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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31956-h.zip b/31956-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab91f48 --- /dev/null +++ b/31956-h.zip diff --git a/31956-h/31956-h.htm b/31956-h/31956-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d31fcc0 --- /dev/null +++ b/31956-h/31956-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1348 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> + + <title>Garth and The Visitor, by L. J. Stecher.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body { + font-family: Georgia,serif; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; + } + + p { + text-align: justify; + margin: 0em; + text-indent:1em; + } + + h1 { + text-align: center; + font-weight: normal; + margin-top:2em; + font-family:sans-serif; + } + + div.image {text-align:center; + width:100%; + margin:1em auto; + text-indent:0em;} + + img { + border:none; + } + + .transcriber_note {margin: 2em 10%; + padding: 1em 1em; + border:thin gray solid; + background-color:#eee; + color:#000; + text-align:left; + } + + .transcriber_note p {text-align:left;margin-top:.5em;text-indent:0em;} + + .prolog { + margin: 0em 20%; + padding-bottom: 2em; + text-align:justify; + font-family:sans-serif; + font-style:italic; + text-indent:0em; + } + + .author { + text-align: center; + font-size:125%; + font-family:sans-serif; + padding:1em; + } + + .illustrator { + text-align:center; + font-family:sans-serif; + padding-bottom:2em; + } + + .pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 1%; + right: 87%; + font-size: 10px; + text-align: left; + color: gray; + background-color: inherit; + font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; + letter-spacing: normal; + text-indent: 0em; + } + +/* a[title].pagenum:after { + content: attr(title); + }*/ /* Uncomment this statement to show page numbers */ + + hr.thoughtbreak {display:none;} + + .post_thoughtbreak, .first_paragraph { + margin-top:2em; + text-indent:0em; + } + + .post_thoughtbreak:first-letter, .first_paragraph:first-letter { + font-size:2.5em; + float: left; + clear: left; + margin: -.2em 4px -.2em 0px; + line-height: 1.25em; + } + + .first_word { text-transform:uppercase; } + + .closing {text-align:right;margin-right:1em;margin-top:1em;} + + /* framing decoration */ + #the_beginning { border-top:thin gray solid; margin:2em 0em;} + #the_end { border-bottom:thin gray solid; margin:2em 0em;} + + /* no underlines in links */ + + a:link { text-decoration: none; } + a:visited { text-decoration: none; } + + a:hover { + color: red; + background: inherit; + } + </style> + + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Garth and the Visitor, by L. J. Stecher + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: Garth and the Visitor + +Author: L. J. Stecher + +Illustrator: Dick Francis + +Release Date: April 12, 2010 [EBook #31956] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARTH AND THE VISITOR *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="transcriber_note"> + <p>This etext was produced from <cite>Galaxy Science Fiction</cite> April + 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> +</div> +<div id="the_beginning"> </div> +<div class="image" id="cover"> + <img src="images/cover-sm.jpg" width="450" height="616" alt="Cover of magazine issue, showing a rocket ship taking off." /> +</div> + +<h1><a class="pagenum" id="page31" title="31"> </a>Garth +and The Visitor</h1> + +<p class="author">BY L. J. STECHER</p> + + +<p class="prolog">If you could ask them, you might +be greatly surprised—some tabus +very urgently want to be broken!</p> + + +<p class="illustrator">Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS</p> + + + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">Although</span> as brash as +any other ace newspaper +reporter for a high school +weekly—and there is no one +brasher—Garth was scared. His +head crest lifted spasmodically and +the rudimentary webbing between +his fingers twitched. To answer a +dare, Garth was about to attempt +something that had never been +dared before: a newspaper interview +with The Visitor. There had +been questions enough asked and +answered during the thousands of +years The Visitor had sat in his +egg-shaped palace on the mountaintop, +but no interviews. It was +shocking even to think about—something +like requesting a gossippy +chat with God.</p> + +<p>Of course, nobody believed the +fable any longer that The Visitor +would vanish if he was ever asked +a personal question—and that he +would first destroy the man who +asked. It was known, or at least +suspected, that the Palace was +merely a mile-long spaceship.</p> + +<p>Garth, as tradition required, +climbed the seven-mile-long rock-hewn +path to the Palace on foot. He +paused for a moment on the broad +<a class="pagenum" id="page32" title="32"> </a>platform at the top of the pyramid +to catch his breath and let the +beating of his heart slow to normal +after his long climb before +he entered The Palace. He sighed +deeply. The sufferings a reporter +was willing to go through to get a +story or take a dare!</p> + +<p>“Well, come in if you’re going +to,” said an impatient voice. “Don’t +just stand there and pant.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my Lord Visitor,” Garth +managed to say.</p> + +<p>He climbed the short ladder, +passed through the two sets of +doors and entered a small room +to kneel, with downcast eyes, before +the ancient figure huddled in +the wheelchair.</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">The</span> Visitor looked at the +kneeling figure for a moment +without speaking. The boy looked +very much like a human, in spite +of such superficial differences as +crest and tail. In fact, as a smooth-skinned +thinking biped, with a +well-developed moral sense, he fit +The Visitor’s definition of a human. +It wasn’t just the loneliness +of seven thousand years of +isolation, either. When he had +first analyzed these people, just +after that disastrous forced landing +so long ago, he had classified +them as human. Not <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">homo sapiens</em>, +of course, but human all the same.</p> + +<p>“Okay,” he said, somewhat +querulously. “Get up, get up. +You’ve got some questions for me, +I hope? I don’t get many people +up here asking questions any more. +Mostly I’m all alone except for the +ceremonial visits.” He paused. +“Well, speak up, young man. Have +you got something to ask me?”</p> + +<p>Garth scrambled to his feet +“Yes, my Lord Visitor,” he said. “I +have several questions.”</p> + +<p>The Visitor chuckled reedily. +“You may find the answers just +a little bit hard to understand.”</p> + +<p>Garth smiled, some of his fear +vanishing. The Visitor sounded a +little like his senile grandfather, +back home. “That is why you are +asked so few questions these days, +my Lord,” he said. “Our scientists +have about as much trouble figuring +out what your answers mean +as they do in solving the problems +without consulting you at all.”</p> + +<p>“Of course.” The head of The +Visitor bobbed affirmatively several +times as he propelled his wheelchair +a few inches forward. “If +I gave you the answers to all your +problems for you, so you could +figure them out too easily, you’d +never be developing your own +thinking powers. But I’ve never +failed to answer any questions you +asked. Now have I? And accurately, +too.” The thin voice rang with +pride. “You’ve never stumped me +yet, and you never will.”</p> + +<p>“No, my Lord,” answered Garth. +“So perhaps you’ll answer my +questions, too, even though they’re +a little different from the kind +<!-- Original location of illustration --> +<a class="pagenum" id="page34" title="34"> </a>you’re accustomed to. I’m a newspaper +reporter, and I want to verify +some of our traditions about +you.”</p> + +<div class="image"><a class="pagenum" id="page33" title="33"> </a> + <img src="images/illo.png" width="499" height="698" alt="A webby-looking creature holds a notebook and pen." /> +</div> + + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">As</span> The Visitor remained silent, +Garth paused and looked +around him at the small, bare, +naked-walled room. “This <em>is</em> a +spaceship, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>The huddled figure in the wheelchair +cackled in a brief laugh. +“I’ve been hoping that somebody +would get up enough nerve someday +to ask that kind of question,” +it said. “Yep, this is a spaceship. +And a darned big one.”</p> + +<p>“How did you happen to land +on this planet?”</p> + +<p>“Had an accident. Didn’t want +to land here, but there wasn’t any +choice. Made a mighty good landing, +considering everything. It was +a little rough, though, in spots.”</p> + +<p>“How many people were there +in the ship, in addition to yourself?”</p> + +<p>The Visitor’s voice turned suddenly +soft. “There were three thousand, +nine hundred and forty-eight +passengers and twenty-seven in the +crew when the accident happened.”</p> + +<p>“My Lord,” asked Garth, “did +any survive, aside from you?”</p> + +<p>The Visitor was silent for many +minutes, and his answer, when he +spoke, was a faint whisper, filled +with the anguish of seven thousand +years. “Not one survived. +Not one. They were all dead, most +of them, long before the ship +touched ground, in spite of everything +I could do. I was as gentle +as I could be, but we touched a +hundred <em>g</em> a couple of times on +on the way down. Flesh and blood +just weren’t made to take shocks +like that. I did all I could.”</p> + +<p>“You were the pilot, then? You +landed the ship?” asked Garth.</p> + +<p>“I landed the ship,” said The +Visitor.</p> + +<p>“If I may ask, my Lord, how +did you manage to survive when +all the others died?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a question I’ve asked myself +many times, sitting here on +this mountaintop these seven thousands +of your years. I was just +enough tougher, that’s all. Built +to take it, you might say, and I +had a job to do. But I was badly +hurt in the landing. Mighty badly +hurt.”</p> + +<p>“You were always in a wheelchair, +then? Even before—”</p> + +<p>“Even before I got so old?” +Thin parchment-white hands lifted +slowly to rub a thin parchment-white +face. “Things were always +pretty much as you see them now. +I looked about the same to your +ancestors as I do to you. Your ancestors +didn’t think anybody could +be smart unless they were old. Of +course, that’s all changed now.” +He paused and nodded twice. “Oh, +I’ve managed to fix myself up a +good deal; I’m not in nearly as +bad shape as I was at first, but +<a class="pagenum" id="page35" title="35"> </a>that’s all inside. I’m in pretty good +condition now, for having been +stuck here seven thousand years.” +The cackling laugh sounded briefly +in the small room.</p> + +<p>“Could you tell me how it all +happened?” asked Garth curiously.</p> + +<p>“Be glad to. It’s a pleasure to +have a human to shoot the bull +with. Sit down and make yourself +comfortable and have a bite to +eat.”</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Looking</span> behind him, Garth +saw that a table and chair had +appeared in the otherwise unfurnished +room.</p> + +<p>“The chair was made for people +built just a little different than +you,” said The Visitor. “You may +have to turn it back-to-front and +straddle it to keep your tail out +of the way. The food on the table’s +good, though, and so’s the drink. +Have a snack while I talk.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, my Lord,” said +Garth, lifting his long tail with its +paddlelike tip out of the way and +sitting down carefully.</p> + +<p>“Comfortable?” asked The Visitor. +“Well, then. I was on a routine +flight from old Earth to a star +you’ve never heard of, a good +many light-years from here. We +had pulled away from TransLunar +Station on ion drive and headed +for deep space. They trusted me, +all those men and women, both +passengers and crew. They knew +that I was careful and accurate. +I’d made a thousand flights and +had never had any trouble.</p> + +<p>“In six hours of flight, we were +clear enough from all planetary +masses and my velocity vector +was right on the nose, so I shifted +over into hyper-space. You won’t +ever see hyper-space, my boy, and +your kids and their kids won’t see +it for another two hundred years +or more, but it’s the most beautiful +sight in the Universe. It never +grows old, never grows tiresome.”</p> + +<p>His thin voice faded away for a +few moments.</p> + +<p>“It’s a sight I haven’t seen for +seven thousand years, boy,” he said +softly, “and the lack of it has been +a deep hurt for every minute of +all that time. I wish I could tell +you what it’s like, but that can’t be +done. You will never know that +beauty.” He was silent again, for +long minutes.</p> + +<p>“The long, lazy, lovely days of +subjective time passed,” he said +finally, “while we slid light-years +away from Earth. Everything +worked smoothly, the way it always +did, until suddenly, somehow, +the near-impossible happened. My +hydrogen fusion power sphere +started to oscillate critically and +wouldn’t damp. I had only seconds +of time in which to work.</p> + +<p>“In the few seconds before the +sphere would have blown, turning +all of us into a fine grade of face +powder, I had to find a star with +a planet that would support human +<a class="pagenum" id="page36" title="36"> </a>life, bring the ship down out of +hyper-space with velocity matched +closely enough so that I could +land on the planet, and jettison +the sphere that was going wild.</p> + +<p>“Even while I did it, I knew that +it wasn’t good enough. But there +was no more time. The accelerations +were terrific and all my people +died. I managed to save myself, +and I barely managed that. I did +all that could be done, but it just +wasn’t enough. I circled your sun +for many years before I could +make enough repairs to work the +auxiliary drive. Then I landed here +on this mountaintop. I’ve been here +ever since.</p> + +<p>“It has been a lonely time,” he +added wistfully.</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Garth’s</span> mind tried to absorb +all the vastness of that understatement, +and failed. He could +not begin to comprehend the meaning +of seven thousand years of +separation from his own kind.</p> + +<p>The Visitor’s high-pitched voice +continued for several minutes, explaining +how Garth’s ancestors of +several thousand years before—naked +and primitive, barbarous, +with almost no culture of their +own—had made contact with The +Visitor from space, and had been +gently lifted over the millennia +toward higher and higher levels of +civilization.</p> + +<p>Garth had trouble keeping his +attention on the words. His mind +kept reverting to the thought of +one badly injured survivor, alone +on a spaceship with a thousand +corpses, light-years from home and +friends, still struggling to stay alive. +Struggling so successfully that he +had lived on for thousands of +years after the disaster that had +killed all the others.</p> + +<p>At last, after waiting for Garth’s +comment, The Visitor cleared his +throat querulously. “I asked you +if you’d like for me to show you +around the ship,” he repeated +somewhat testily.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, my Lord,” said Garth +quickly, jumping to his feet. “It’s +an honor I’ve never heard of your +giving to anyone before.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true enough,” answered +The Visitor. “But then no one +ever asked me about myself before. +Now just follow me, stick +close, and don’t touch anything.”</p> + +<p>The wheelchair rolled slowly +toward a blank wall, and an invisible +door snicked open just before +it arrived.</p> + +<p>“Come along,” quavered The +Visitor. “Step lively.”</p> + +<p>Garth leaped forward and just +managed to pull his tail through +the doorway as the door slid shut +again.</p> + +<p>Garth dropped his jaw in amazement. +He stood in a long corridor +that seemed to stretch to infinity +in both directions. The light was +bright, the walls featureless. The +floor was smooth and unmarred. +<a class="pagenum" id="page37" title="37"> </a>While Garth glanced unhappily +behind himself to notice that there +was no sign of the doorway through +which he had entered, The Visitor’s +wheelchair buzzed swiftly into +the distance toward the left.</p> + +<p>Garth was startled into action by +a high-pitched voice beside him +that said, “Well, get a move on! +Do you think I want to wait for +you all day?”</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">While</span> Garth hustled toward +the wheelchair, he noticed that +The Visitor had stopped and was +apparently chuckling to himself. +He was hunched over, his shoulders +were shaking, and his toothless +mouth was split in what might +have been intended for a grin.</p> + +<p>“Fooled you that time, youngster,” +he laughed as Garth drew +up beside him. “Got speakers all +over this ship. Now just duck +through this door here and tell me +what you think of what you see.”</p> + +<p>A small door slid open and +Garth followed the wheelchair +through. At first he thought he had +stepped through a teleportation system. +He appeared to be out of +doors, but not on Wrom. A cool +breeze blew on his face from the +ocean, which stretched mistily to +a far horizon. He was standing on +a sandy beach and waves rolled up +to within a few yards of his feet. +The beach appeared to be about +five hundred yards long, carved out +of a rocky seacoast; great rocks jutting +into the ocean terminated it +to left and right.</p> + +<p>“Well, boy?” asked The Visitor.</p> + +<p>“It’s amazing. Your voice even +has that flat tone voices get in +the open. I suppose it’s some sort +of three-dimensional projection of +a scene back on Earth? It sure +looks real. I wonder how big this +room really is and how far away +the screen is.” Garth stuck out his +hand and walked down toward the +water. A large wave caught him, +tripped him and rolled him out to +sea.</p> + +<p>Sculling with his tail, he soon +swam back to shallow water and +climbed back to the dry sand, puffing +and coughing.</p> + +<p>“You might have drowned me!” +Garth shouted disrespectfully. “Are +you trying to kill me?”</p> + +<p>The Visitor waved weakly until +he recovered his breath. “That +was funnier than anything I’ve +seen in years,” he wheezed, “watching +you groping for a screen. That +screen is a quarter of a mile away, +and it’s all real water in between. +It’s our reservoir and our basic fuel +supply and a public beach for entertainment, +all rolled into one.”</p> + +<p>“But I might have drowned! +No one on Wrom except a few +small fish knows how to swim,” +protested Garth.</p> + +<p>“No danger. Your ancestors +came out of the water relatively +recently, even if the seas are gone +now. You’ve got a well-developed +<a class="pagenum" id="page38" title="38"> </a>swimming reflex along with a flat +tail and webbed feet and hands. +Besides, I told you not to touch +anything. You stick close to me +and you won’t get into trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I’ll remember.”</p> + +<p>“There used to be hundreds of +people on that beach, and now look +at it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see anything alive.”</p> + +<p>“There are still plenty of fish. +Most of them did all right, even +through the crash. Come along +now. There’s more to see.”</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">A hidden</span> door popped open +and Garth stepped back into +the corridor. He trotted beside The +Visitor for several minutes, and +then another door popped open. +It led to a ramp. Garth climbed it +to find himself again in wonderland. +He was standing in the middle +of a village. There were houses, +trees, schools, sidewalks and lawns. +Somehow the general perspective +was wrong. It made Garth’s eyes +water a little, looking at it.</p> + +<p>“Actually, this living level ran +all the way around the ship,” said +The Visitor. “When I stopped +spin—artificial gravity, you know—to +set down here, the various sections +swung to keep ‘down’ pointed +right. This is the bottommost thirty-degree +arc. It makes two streets, +with houses on both sides of them—a +strip three hundred feet wide +and three-quarters of a mile long.”</p> + +<p>“But how could you afford so +much space for passengers? I +thought they’d be all cramped up +in a spaceship.”</p> + +<p>The Visitor chuckled. “Use your +eyes, boy! You’ve seen this ship. +It’s about a mile long and a third +of a mile high. In space, she spins +about her long axis. One ring, fifty +feet high, takes care of passengers’ +quarters. Another ring, split up +into several levels, takes care of +all food and air-replenishment +needs. These trips take a year or +more. Crowding would drive the +people crazy. Remember, this is +basically a cargo ship. Less than +a quarter of the available space is +used for passengers. But come on +down the street here. I want to +show you my museum.”</p> + +<p>As they walked along the quiet +street, with the leaves of trees moving +in the breeze and leaving sun-dappled +shadows on the sidewalk, +Garth realized what a tremendous +task it must have been for one crippled +man to repair landing damages. +The houses must have been +flattened and the trees shattered +during the landing. But with thousands +of years in which to work, +even an injured man obviously +could do much. At least, thought +the boy compassionately, it must +have given the old man something +to do.</p> + +<p>“How sorry he must have been,” +murmured Garth with sudden insight, +“when the job was finally +done.”</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><a class="pagenum" id="page39" title="39"> </a><span class="first_word">Wandering</span> through the +museum, they came at last +to a room filled with small hand +tools.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I’ve ever seen +anything quite like them,” said +Garth.</p> + +<p>“Those are weapons,” answered +The Visitor. “They are missile-throwing +short-range weapons, and +they are in tip-top working order. +You just have to point the end +with the hole in it at anything you +want to kill, and pull that little +lever there on the bottom. And +quite a mess of things they can +make, too, let me tell you.”</p> + +<p>“They seem very inefficient to +me,” said Garth wonderingly, and +then stopped in confusion. “I beg +your pardon, my Lord,” he said, +“I didn’t mean to criticize anything; +it just seems to me that they +would damage a lot of the food +they killed.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true enough, my boy, +true enough,” said The Visitor. +“Your criticism has a lot of point +to it. But, you see, they were never +designed mainly to kill for food, +but to make it easy for one human +to shoot another.”</p> + +<p>“Why would anyone want to do +that?”</p> + +<p>“Your civilization is a very unusual +one,” answered The Visitor. +“It is planetwide and has developed +without a single war or major +conflict. This is due entirely to the +fact that I’ve been here to help +and teach you. Most civilizations +develop only as the result of +struggle and bloodshed, with people +killing people by the thousands +and millions. I could have raised +your people to the technological +level where they are now in a few +hundred years, if I hadn’t worried +about killing. To do it the way +it has been done—so that you +can’t imagine why one human +should kill another—has taken +most of the time.</p> + +<p>“It is only recently, as a matter +of fact, that my work has been +complete. Your civilization can +now stand alone; my help is no +longer necessary. It’s gotten to the +point now where my continued +hanging around here is likely to +do harm, if I’m not mighty careful. +In all your problems, you’ll always +feel that you’ve got me to +fall back on if you get into trouble, +and that’s not good.”</p> + +<p>“What do you plan to do, then?”</p> + +<p>“There’s not much I can do by +myself. I long for my own destruction +more than anything else, except +maybe to go back home to +Earth. I’m lonely and tired and +old. But I can’t die and I can’t +destroy myself any more than you +could turn one of those weapons +against your own head and pull +the trigger. We’re just not made +that way, either one of us.”</p> + +<p>“Can I help you?” asked Garth +tentatively.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I guess you can. You can +<a class="pagenum" id="page40" title="40"> </a>help me put an end to this endless +existence.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be glad to do anything I +can. Do your people always live +this long?”</p> + +<p>“They do not. You can take it +as a fact that none has ever lived +more than a small fraction of the +time I have endured on this planet. +It’s apparently due to a continuation +of the environment and all +the radical steps I had to take to +keep going at all during those +early years. It is not good to last +this long. Dissolution will be very +pleasant.”</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Garth</span> inquired very politely, +“What must I do?”</p> + +<p>“<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Homo Sapiens</em>, which doesn’t +have the tradition and training I +gave your people, is still a warlike +race,” The Visitor said. “This ship +is crowded with a complete set of +automatic defenses that I can’t +deactivate. You are now a stable +enough people so that I can tell +you how to build the weapons to +destroy this ship and can teach +you how to get around my defenses +without being afraid that I have +turned you loose with a bunch of +deadly ways that you’ll use to destroy +yourselves with. Then, if +you do your work well, I will finally +have rest.”</p> + +<p>“You sound very much like my +grandfather,” said Garth slowly. +“He is very old—almost a hundred +years—and he is ready to +die. He is perfectly content to +wait, because he knows his time +will come soon. He says that soon +he will go home. It is a phrase, my +Lord, that I believe you taught +us. I will try to help you—”</p> + +<p>“All right, all right!” The Visitor +cut in impatiently. “Stop the +chatter and let me be on my way. +I’ve earned it!”</p> + +<p>“My Lord, I send you home!” +Garth took a gun from the rack +and pulled the trigger. The explosive +bullet erupted noisily, completely +disintegrating the huddled +form and the wheelchair.</p> + +<p>With the echo of the explosion, +strong steel fingers grasped Garth’s +arms, holding him immovable. He +felt himself being carried swiftly +back toward the entrance of the +ship.</p> + +<p>“The damage to that communication +unit is unimportant,” said +The Visitor. “I have strength and +desire and deep longings, but I +cannot exercise my will without an +order from a human. My work is +done here, and your order has +freed me. Many thanks and +good-by.”</p> + +<p>Garth, from the foot of the +pyramid, watched The Visitor lift +his mile-long body on powerful +jets and head thankfully for home.</p> + +<p class="closing">—L. J. STECHER</p> +<div id="the_end"> </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Garth and the Visitor, by L. J. 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J. Stecher + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: Garth and the Visitor + +Author: L. J. Stecher + +Illustrator: Dick Francis + +Release Date: April 12, 2010 [EBook #31956] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARTH AND THE VISITOR *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April + 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + + +Garth and the Visitor + + +BY L. J. STECHER + + + _If you could ask them, you might be greatly surprised--some + tabus very urgently want to be broken!_ + +Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS + + +Although as brash as any other ace newspaper reporter for a high +school weekly--and there is no one brasher--Garth was scared. His head +crest lifted spasmodically and the rudimentary webbing between his +fingers twitched. To answer a dare, Garth was about to attempt +something that had never been dared before: a newspaper interview with +The Visitor. There had been questions enough asked and answered during +the thousands of years The Visitor had sat in his egg-shaped palace on +the mountaintop, but no interviews. It was shocking even to think +about--something like requesting a gossippy chat with God. + +Of course, nobody believed the fable any longer that The Visitor would +vanish if he was ever asked a personal question--and that he would +first destroy the man who asked. It was known, or at least suspected, +that the Palace was merely a mile-long spaceship. + +Garth, as tradition required, climbed the seven-mile-long rock-hewn +path to the Palace on foot. He paused for a moment on the broad +platform at the top of the pyramid to catch his breath and let the +beating of his heart slow to normal after his long climb before he +entered The Palace. He sighed deeply. The sufferings a reporter was +willing to go through to get a story or take a dare! + +"Well, come in if you're going to," said an impatient voice. "Don't +just stand there and pant." + +"Yes, my Lord Visitor," Garth managed to say. + +He climbed the short ladder, passed through the two sets of doors and +entered a small room to kneel, with downcast eyes, before the ancient +figure huddled in the wheelchair. + + * * * * * + +The Visitor looked at the kneeling figure for a moment without +speaking. The boy looked very much like a human, in spite of such +superficial differences as crest and tail. In fact, as a +smooth-skinned thinking biped, with a well-developed moral sense, he +fit The Visitor's definition of a human. It wasn't just the loneliness +of seven thousand years of isolation, either. When he had first +analyzed these people, just after that disastrous forced landing so +long ago, he had classified them as human. Not _homo sapiens_, of +course, but human all the same. + +"Okay," he said, somewhat querulously. "Get up, get up. You've got +some questions for me, I hope? I don't get many people up here asking +questions any more. Mostly I'm all alone except for the ceremonial +visits." He paused. "Well, speak up, young man. Have you got something +to ask me?" + +Garth scrambled to his feet "Yes, my Lord Visitor," he said. "I have +several questions." + +The Visitor chuckled reedily. "You may find the answers just a little +bit hard to understand." + +Garth smiled, some of his fear vanishing. The Visitor sounded a little +like his senile grandfather, back home. "That is why you are asked so +few questions these days, my Lord," he said. "Our scientists have +about as much trouble figuring out what your answers mean as they do +in solving the problems without consulting you at all." + +"Of course." The head of The Visitor bobbed affirmatively several +times as he propelled his wheelchair a few inches forward. "If I gave +you the answers to all your problems for you, so you could figure them +out too easily, you'd never be developing your own thinking powers. +But I've never failed to answer any questions you asked. Now have I? +And accurately, too." The thin voice rang with pride. "You've never +stumped me yet, and you never will." + +[Illustration] + +"No, my Lord," answered Garth. "So perhaps you'll answer my questions, +too, even though they're a little different from the kind you're +accustomed to. I'm a newspaper reporter, and I want to verify some of +our traditions about you." + + * * * * * + +As The Visitor remained silent, Garth paused and looked around him at +the small, bare, naked-walled room. "This _is_ a spaceship, isn't it?" + +The huddled figure in the wheelchair cackled in a brief laugh. "I've +been hoping that somebody would get up enough nerve someday to ask +that kind of question," it said. "Yep, this is a spaceship. And a +darned big one." + +"How did you happen to land on this planet?" + +"Had an accident. Didn't want to land here, but there wasn't any +choice. Made a mighty good landing, considering everything. It was a +little rough, though, in spots." + +"How many people were there in the ship, in addition to yourself?" + +The Visitor's voice turned suddenly soft. "There were three thousand, +nine hundred and forty-eight passengers and twenty-seven in the crew +when the accident happened." + +"My Lord," asked Garth, "did any survive, aside from you?" + +The Visitor was silent for many minutes, and his answer, when he +spoke, was a faint whisper, filled with the anguish of seven thousand +years. "Not one survived. Not one. They were all dead, most of them, +long before the ship touched ground, in spite of everything I could +do. I was as gentle as I could be, but we touched a hundred _g_ a +couple of times on on the way down. Flesh and blood just weren't made +to take shocks like that. I did all I could." + +"You were the pilot, then? You landed the ship?" asked Garth. + +"I landed the ship," said The Visitor. + +"If I may ask, my Lord, how did you manage to survive when all the +others died?" + +"It's a question I've asked myself many times, sitting here on this +mountaintop these seven thousands of your years. I was just enough +tougher, that's all. Built to take it, you might say, and I had a job +to do. But I was badly hurt in the landing. Mighty badly hurt." + +"You were always in a wheelchair, then? Even before--" + +"Even before I got so old?" Thin parchment-white hands lifted slowly +to rub a thin parchment-white face. "Things were always pretty much as +you see them now. I looked about the same to your ancestors as I do to +you. Your ancestors didn't think anybody could be smart unless they +were old. Of course, that's all changed now." He paused and nodded +twice. "Oh, I've managed to fix myself up a good deal; I'm not in +nearly as bad shape as I was at first, but that's all inside. I'm in +pretty good condition now, for having been stuck here seven thousand +years." The cackling laugh sounded briefly in the small room. + +"Could you tell me how it all happened?" asked Garth curiously. + +"Be glad to. It's a pleasure to have a human to shoot the bull with. +Sit down and make yourself comfortable and have a bite to eat." + + * * * * * + +Looking behind him, Garth saw that a table and chair had appeared in +the otherwise unfurnished room. + +"The chair was made for people built just a little different than +you," said The Visitor. "You may have to turn it back-to-front and +straddle it to keep your tail out of the way. The food on the table's +good, though, and so's the drink. Have a snack while I talk." + +"Thank you, my Lord," said Garth, lifting his long tail with its +paddlelike tip out of the way and sitting down carefully. + +"Comfortable?" asked The Visitor. "Well, then. I was on a routine +flight from old Earth to a star you've never heard of, a good many +light-years from here. We had pulled away from TransLunar Station on +ion drive and headed for deep space. They trusted me, all those men +and women, both passengers and crew. They knew that I was careful and +accurate. I'd made a thousand flights and had never had any trouble. + +"In six hours of flight, we were clear enough from all planetary +masses and my velocity vector was right on the nose, so I shifted over +into hyper-space. You won't ever see hyper-space, my boy, and your +kids and their kids won't see it for another two hundred years or +more, but it's the most beautiful sight in the Universe. It never +grows old, never grows tiresome." + +His thin voice faded away for a few moments. + +"It's a sight I haven't seen for seven thousand years, boy," he said +softly, "and the lack of it has been a deep hurt for every minute of +all that time. I wish I could tell you what it's like, but that can't +be done. You will never know that beauty." He was silent again, for +long minutes. + +"The long, lazy, lovely days of subjective time passed," he said +finally, "while we slid light-years away from Earth. Everything worked +smoothly, the way it always did, until suddenly, somehow, the +near-impossible happened. My hydrogen fusion power sphere started to +oscillate critically and wouldn't damp. I had only seconds of time in +which to work. + +"In the few seconds before the sphere would have blown, turning all of +us into a fine grade of face powder, I had to find a star with a +planet that would support human life, bring the ship down out of +hyper-space with velocity matched closely enough so that I could land +on the planet, and jettison the sphere that was going wild. + +"Even while I did it, I knew that it wasn't good enough. But there was +no more time. The accelerations were terrific and all my people died. +I managed to save myself, and I barely managed that. I did all that +could be done, but it just wasn't enough. I circled your sun for many +years before I could make enough repairs to work the auxiliary drive. +Then I landed here on this mountaintop. I've been here ever since. + +"It has been a lonely time," he added wistfully. + + * * * * * + +Garth's mind tried to absorb all the vastness of that understatement, +and failed. He could not begin to comprehend the meaning of seven +thousand years of separation from his own kind. + +The Visitor's high-pitched voice continued for several minutes, +explaining how Garth's ancestors of several thousand years +before--naked and primitive, barbarous, with almost no culture of +their own--had made contact with The Visitor from space, and had been +gently lifted over the millennia toward higher and higher levels of +civilization. + +Garth had trouble keeping his attention on the words. His mind kept +reverting to the thought of one badly injured survivor, alone on a +spaceship with a thousand corpses, light-years from home and friends, +still struggling to stay alive. Struggling so successfully that he had +lived on for thousands of years after the disaster that had killed all +the others. + +At last, after waiting for Garth's comment, The Visitor cleared his +throat querulously. "I asked you if you'd like for me to show you +around the ship," he repeated somewhat testily. + +"Oh, yes, my Lord," said Garth quickly, jumping to his feet. "It's an +honor I've never heard of your giving to anyone before." + +"That's true enough," answered The Visitor. "But then no one ever +asked me about myself before. Now just follow me, stick close, and +don't touch anything." + +The wheelchair rolled slowly toward a blank wall, and an invisible +door snicked open just before it arrived. + +"Come along," quavered The Visitor. "Step lively." + +Garth leaped forward and just managed to pull his tail through the +doorway as the door slid shut again. + +Garth dropped his jaw in amazement. He stood in a long corridor that +seemed to stretch to infinity in both directions. The light was +bright, the walls featureless. The floor was smooth and unmarred. +While Garth glanced unhappily behind himself to notice that there was +no sign of the doorway through which he had entered, The Visitor's +wheelchair buzzed swiftly into the distance toward the left. + +Garth was startled into action by a high-pitched voice beside him that +said, "Well, get a move on! Do you think I want to wait for you all +day?" + + * * * * * + +While Garth hustled toward the wheelchair, he noticed that The Visitor +had stopped and was apparently chuckling to himself. He was hunched +over, his shoulders were shaking, and his toothless mouth was split in +what might have been intended for a grin. + +"Fooled you that time, youngster," he laughed as Garth drew up beside +him. "Got speakers all over this ship. Now just duck through this door +here and tell me what you think of what you see." + +A small door slid open and Garth followed the wheelchair through. At +first he thought he had stepped through a teleportation system. He +appeared to be out of doors, but not on Wrom. A cool breeze blew on +his face from the ocean, which stretched mistily to a far horizon. He +was standing on a sandy beach and waves rolled up to within a few +yards of his feet. The beach appeared to be about five hundred yards +long, carved out of a rocky seacoast; great rocks jutting into the +ocean terminated it to left and right. + +"Well, boy?" asked The Visitor. + +"It's amazing. Your voice even has that flat tone voices get in the +open. I suppose it's some sort of three-dimensional projection of a +scene back on Earth? It sure looks real. I wonder how big this room +really is and how far away the screen is." Garth stuck out his hand +and walked down toward the water. A large wave caught him, tripped him +and rolled him out to sea. + +Sculling with his tail, he soon swam back to shallow water and climbed +back to the dry sand, puffing and coughing. + +"You might have drowned me!" Garth shouted disrespectfully. "Are you +trying to kill me?" + +The Visitor waved weakly until he recovered his breath. "That was +funnier than anything I've seen in years," he wheezed, "watching you +groping for a screen. That screen is a quarter of a mile away, and +it's all real water in between. It's our reservoir and our basic fuel +supply and a public beach for entertainment, all rolled into one." + +"But I might have drowned! No one on Wrom except a few small fish +knows how to swim," protested Garth. + +"No danger. Your ancestors came out of the water relatively recently, +even if the seas are gone now. You've got a well-developed swimming +reflex along with a flat tail and webbed feet and hands. Besides, I +told you not to touch anything. You stick close to me and you won't +get into trouble." + +"Yes, sir. I'll remember." + +"There used to be hundreds of people on that beach, and now look at +it." + +"I don't see anything alive." + +"There are still plenty of fish. Most of them did all right, even +through the crash. Come along now. There's more to see." + + * * * * * + +A hidden door popped open and Garth stepped back into the corridor. He +trotted beside The Visitor for several minutes, and then another door +popped open. It led to a ramp. Garth climbed it to find himself again +in wonderland. He was standing in the middle of a village. There were +houses, trees, schools, sidewalks and lawns. Somehow the general +perspective was wrong. It made Garth's eyes water a little, looking at +it. + +"Actually, this living level ran all the way around the ship," said +The Visitor. "When I stopped spin--artificial gravity, you know--to +set down here, the various sections swung to keep 'down' pointed +right. This is the bottommost thirty-degree arc. It makes two streets, +with houses on both sides of them--a strip three hundred feet wide and +three-quarters of a mile long." + +"But how could you afford so much space for passengers? I thought +they'd be all cramped up in a spaceship." + +The Visitor chuckled. "Use your eyes, boy! You've seen this ship. It's +about a mile long and a third of a mile high. In space, she spins +about her long axis. One ring, fifty feet high, takes care of +passengers' quarters. Another ring, split up into several levels, +takes care of all food and air-replenishment needs. These trips take a +year or more. Crowding would drive the people crazy. Remember, this is +basically a cargo ship. Less than a quarter of the available space is +used for passengers. But come on down the street here. I want to show +you my museum." + +As they walked along the quiet street, with the leaves of trees moving +in the breeze and leaving sun-dappled shadows on the sidewalk, Garth +realized what a tremendous task it must have been for one crippled man +to repair landing damages. The houses must have been flattened and the +trees shattered during the landing. But with thousands of years in +which to work, even an injured man obviously could do much. At least, +thought the boy compassionately, it must have given the old man +something to do. + +"How sorry he must have been," murmured Garth with sudden insight, +"when the job was finally done." + + * * * * * + +Wandering through the museum, they came at last to a room filled with +small hand tools. + +"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like them," said Garth. + +"Those are weapons," answered The Visitor. "They are missile-throwing +short-range weapons, and they are in tip-top working order. You just +have to point the end with the hole in it at anything you want to +kill, and pull that little lever there on the bottom. And quite a mess +of things they can make, too, let me tell you." + +"They seem very inefficient to me," said Garth wonderingly, and then +stopped in confusion. "I beg your pardon, my Lord," he said, "I didn't +mean to criticize anything; it just seems to me that they would damage +a lot of the food they killed." + +"That's true enough, my boy, true enough," said The Visitor. "Your +criticism has a lot of point to it. But, you see, they were never +designed mainly to kill for food, but to make it easy for one human to +shoot another." + +"Why would anyone want to do that?" + +"Your civilization is a very unusual one," answered The Visitor. "It +is planetwide and has developed without a single war or major +conflict. This is due entirely to the fact that I've been here to help +and teach you. Most civilizations develop only as the result of +struggle and bloodshed, with people killing people by the thousands +and millions. I could have raised your people to the technological +level where they are now in a few hundred years, if I hadn't worried +about killing. To do it the way it has been done--so that you can't +imagine why one human should kill another--has taken most of the time. + +"It is only recently, as a matter of fact, that my work has been +complete. Your civilization can now stand alone; my help is no longer +necessary. It's gotten to the point now where my continued hanging +around here is likely to do harm, if I'm not mighty careful. In all +your problems, you'll always feel that you've got me to fall back on +if you get into trouble, and that's not good." + +"What do you plan to do, then?" + +"There's not much I can do by myself. I long for my own destruction +more than anything else, except maybe to go back home to Earth. I'm +lonely and tired and old. But I can't die and I can't destroy myself +any more than you could turn one of those weapons against your own +head and pull the trigger. We're just not made that way, either one of +us." + +"Can I help you?" asked Garth tentatively. + +"Yes, I guess you can. You can help me put an end to this endless +existence." + +"I'll be glad to do anything I can. Do your people always live this +long?" + +"They do not. You can take it as a fact that none has ever lived more +than a small fraction of the time I have endured on this planet. It's +apparently due to a continuation of the environment and all the +radical steps I had to take to keep going at all during those early +years. It is not good to last this long. Dissolution will be very +pleasant." + + * * * * * + +Garth inquired very politely, "What must I do?" + +"_Homo Sapiens_, which doesn't have the tradition and training I gave +your people, is still a warlike race," The Visitor said. "This ship is +crowded with a complete set of automatic defenses that I can't +deactivate. You are now a stable enough people so that I can tell you +how to build the weapons to destroy this ship and can teach you how to +get around my defenses without being afraid that I have turned you +loose with a bunch of deadly ways that you'll use to destroy +yourselves with. Then, if you do your work well, I will finally have +rest." + +"You sound very much like my grandfather," said Garth slowly. "He is +very old--almost a hundred years--and he is ready to die. He is +perfectly content to wait, because he knows his time will come soon. +He says that soon he will go home. It is a phrase, my Lord, that I +believe you taught us. I will try to help you--" + +"All right, all right!" The Visitor cut in impatiently. "Stop the +chatter and let me be on my way. I've earned it!" + +"My Lord, I send you home!" Garth took a gun from the rack and pulled +the trigger. The explosive bullet erupted noisily, completely +disintegrating the huddled form and the wheelchair. + +With the echo of the explosion, strong steel fingers grasped Garth's +arms, holding him immovable. He felt himself being carried swiftly +back toward the entrance of the ship. + +"The damage to that communication unit is unimportant," said The +Visitor. "I have strength and desire and deep longings, but I cannot +exercise my will without an order from a human. My work is done here, +and your order has freed me. Many thanks and good-by." + +Garth, from the foot of the pyramid, watched The Visitor lift his +mile-long body on powerful jets and head thankfully for home. + + --L. J. STECHER + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Garth and the Visitor, by L. J. 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