diff options
Diffstat (limited to '40954-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 40954-0.txt | 525 |
1 files changed, 525 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/40954-0.txt b/40954-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c55a89 --- /dev/null +++ b/40954-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,525 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40954 *** + + POTENTIAL ENEMY + + by Mack Reynolds + +[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Orbit volume 1 +number 2, 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Illustration] + +[Sidenote: CAESAR HAD THE SAME PROBLEM AND NEVER SOLVED IT. LORD +HELP US IF IT JUST CAN'T BE DONE! + +_Alexander the Great had not dreamed of India, nor even Egypt, when he +embarked upon his invasion of the Persian Empire. It was not a matter of +being like the farmer: "I ain't selfish, all I want is the land that +jines mine." It was simply that after regaining the Greek cities of Asia +Minor from Darius, he could not stop. He could not afford to have +powerful neighbors that might threaten his domains tomorrow. So he took +Egypt, and the Eastern Satrapies, and then had to continue to India. +There he learned of the power of Cathay, but an army mutiny forestalled +him and he had to return to Babylon. He died there while making plans to +attack Arabia, Carthage, Rome. You see, given the military outlook, he +could not afford powerful neighbors on his borders; they might become +enemies some day._ + +_Alexander had not been the first to be faced with this problem, nor was +he the last. So it was later with Rome, and later with Napoleon, and +later still with Adolf the Aryan, and still later--_] + + * * * * * + +It isn't travel that is broadening, stimulating, or educational. Not the +traveling itself. Visiting new cities, new countries, new continents, or +even new planets, _yes_. But the travel itself, _no_. Be it by the +methods of the Twentieth Century--automobile, bus, train, or +aircraft--or be it by spaceship, travel is nothing more than boring. + +Oh, it's interesting enough for the first few hours, say. You look out +the window of your car, bus, train, or airliner, or over the side of +your ship, and it's very stimulating. But after that first period it +becomes boring, monotonous, sameness to the point of redundance. + +And so it is in space. + +Markham Gray, free lance journalist for more years than he would admit +to, was en route from the Neptune satellite Triton to his home planet, +Earth, mistress of the Solar System. He was seasoned enough as a space +traveler to steel himself against the monotony with cards and books, +with chess problems and wire tapes, and even with an attempt to do an +article on the distant earthbase from which he was returning for the +_Spacetraveler Digest_. + +When all these failed, he sometimes spent a half hour or so staring at +the vision screen which took up a considerable area of one wall of the +lounge. + +Unless you had a vivid imagination of the type which had remained with +Markham Gray down through the years, a few minutes at a time would have +been enough. With rare exception, the view on the screen seemed almost +like a still; a velvety blackness with pin-points of brilliant light, +unmoving, unchanging. + +But even Markham Gray, with his ability to dream and to discern that +which is beyond, found himself twisting with ennui after thirty minutes +of staring at endless space. He wished that there was a larger number of +passengers aboard. The half-dozen businessmen and their women and +children had left him cold and he was doing his best to avoid them. Now, +if there had only been one good chess player-- + +Co-pilot Bormann was passing through the lounge. He nodded to the +distinguished elderly passenger, flicked his eyes quickly, +professionally, over the vision screen and was about to continue on his +way. + +Gray called idly, "Hans, I thought the space patrols very seldom got out +here." + +"Practically never, sir," the other told him politely, hesitating +momentarily. Part of the job was to be constantly amiable, constantly +watchful of the passengers out here in deep space--they came down with +space cafard at the drop of a hat. Markham Gray reminded Bormann of +pictures of Benjamin Franklin he'd seen in history books, and ordinarily +he didn't mind spending a little time now and then talking things over +with him. But right now he was hoping the old duffer wasn't going to +keep him from the game going on forward with Captain Post and the +steward. + +"Just noticed one on the screen," the elderly journalist told him +easily. + +The co-pilot smiled courteously. "You must have seen a meteorite, sir. +There aren't any--" + +Markham Gray flushed. "I'm not as complete a space neophyte as your +condescending air would indicate, Lieutenant. As a matter of fact, I'll +stack my space-months against yours any day." + +Bormann said soothingly, "It's not that, sir. You've just made a +mistake. If a ship was within reasonable distance, the alarms would be +sounding off right now. But that's not all, either. We have a complete +record of any traffic within a considerable distance, and I assure you +that--" + +Markham Gray pointed a finger at the lower left hand corner of the +screen. "Then what is that, Lieutenant?" he asked sarcastically. + +The smile was still on the co-pilot's face as he turned and followed the +direction of the other's finger. The smile faded. "I'll be a _makron_!" +he blurted. Spinning on his heel, he hurried forward to the bridge, +muttering as he went. + +The older man snorted with satisfaction. Actually, he shouldn't have +been so snappy with the young man; he hated to admit he was growing +cranky with age. He took up his half completed manuscript again. He +really should finish this article, though, space knew, he hadn't enough +material for more than a few paragraphs. Triton was a barren satellite +if he'd ever seen one--and he had. + +He had almost forgotten the matter ten minutes later when the ship's +public address system blurted loudly. + +BATTLE STATIONS! BATTLE STATIONS! ALL CREW MEMBERS TO EMERGENCY +STATIONS. ALL PASSENGERS IMMEDIATELY TO THEIR QUARTERS. BATTLE STATIONS! + +Battle Stations? + +Markham Gray was vaguely familiar with the fact that every Solar System +spacecraft was theoretically a warcraft in emergency, but it was +utterly fantastic that-- + +He heaved himself to his feet, grunting with the effort, and, +disregarding the repeated command that passengers proceed to their +quarters, made his way forward to the bridge, ignoring the hysterical +confusion in passengers and crew members hurrying up and down the ship's +passageways. + +It was immediately obvious, there at the craft's heart, that this was no +farce, at least not a deliberate one. Captain Roger Post, youthful +officer in command of the _Neuve Los Angeles_, Lieutenant Hans Bormann +and the two crew members on watch were white-faced and shaken, +momentarily confused in a situation which they had never expected to +face. The two officers stood before the bridge vision screen watching, +wide-eyed, that sector of space containing the other vessel. They had +enlarged it a hundred-fold. + +At the elderly journalist's entrance, the skipper had shot a quick, +irritated glance over his shoulder and had begun to snap something; he +cut it off. Instead, he said, "When did you first sight the alien ship, +Mr. Gray?" + +"_Alien?_" + +"Yes, alien. When did you first sight it? It is obviously following us +in order to locate our home planet." There was extreme tension in the +captain's voice. + +Markham Gray felt cold fingers trace their way up his back. "Why, why, I +must have noticed it several hours ago, Captain. But ... an _alien_!... +I...." He peered at the enlarged craft on the screen. "Are you sure, +Captain? It seems remarkably like our own. I would say--" + +The captain had spun back around to stare at the screen again, as though +to reassure himself of what he had already seen. + +"There are no other ships in the vicinity," he grated, almost as though +to himself. "Besides that, as far as I know, and I should know, there +are no Earth craft that look exactly like that. There are striking +similarities, I'll admit, to our St. Louis class scouts, but those jets +on the prow--there's nothing like them either in existence or +projected." + +His voice rose in an attempt to achieve decisiveness, "Lieutenant +Bormann, prepare to attack." + +Suddenly, the telviz blared. + +_Calling the Neuve Los Angeles. Calling the Neuve Los Angeles. Be +unafraid. We are not hostile._ + +There was quiet on the bridge of the earth ship. Screaming quiet. It was +seemingly hours before they had recovered even to the point of staring +at one another. + +Hans Bormann gasped finally, unbelievingly, "How could they possibly +know the name of our ship? How could they possibly know the Amer-English +language?" + +The captain's face was white and frozen. He said, so quietly that they +could hardly make it out, "That's not all. Our alarms still haven't been +touched off, and our estimators aren't functioning; we don't know how +large they are nor how far away. It's unheard of--.Somehow they've +completely disrupted our instruments." + + * * * * * + +Markham Gray followed the matter with more than average interest, after +their arrival at the New Albuquerque spaceport. Not that average +interest wasn't high. + +Finally man had come in contact with another intelligence. He had been +dreading it, fearing it, for decades; now it was here. Another life form +had conquered space, and, seemingly, had equipment, in some respects at +least, superior to humanity's. + +The court martial of Captain Roger Post had been short and merciless. +Free access to the trial had been given to the press and telviz systems, +and the newscasts had carried it in its entirety, partially to stress to +the public mind the importance of the situation, and partially as a +warning to other spacemen. + +Post had stood before the raised dais upon which were seated SupSpaceCom +Michell and four other high-ranking officers and heard the charge +read--failure to attack the alien craft, destroy it, and thus prevent +the aliens--wherever they might be from--returning to their own world +and reporting the presence of man in the galaxy. + +Markham Gray, like thousands of others, had sat on the edge of his chair +in the living room of his small suburban home, and followed the trial +closely on his telviz. + +SupSpaceCom Michell had been blunt and ruthless. He had rapped out, +bitingly, "Roger Post, as captain of the _Neuve Los Angeles_, why did +you not either destroy the alien craft, or, if you felt it too strong +for your ship, why did you not blast off into space, luring it away from +your home planet?" + +Post said hesitantly, "I didn't think it necessary, sir. His attitude +was--well, of peace. It was as if we were two ships that had met by +chance and dipped their flags in the old manner and passed on to their +different destinations. They even were able to telviz us a message." + +The SupSpaceCom snapped, "That was undoubtedly a case of telepathy. The +alien is equipped in some manner to impose thoughts upon the human +brain. You _thought_ the telviz was used; actually the alien wasn't +speaking Amer-English, he was simply forcing thoughts into your minds." + +Markham Gray, watching and listening to this over his set, shook his +head in dissatisfaction. As always, the military mind was dull and +unreceptive. The ridiculousness of expecting Post to blast off into +space in an attempt to fool the other craft in regard to his home +planet was obvious. The whole affair had taken place within the solar +system; obviously the alien would know that one of Sol's nine major +planets was mankind's home. Finding out which one wouldn't be too +difficult a job. + +Roger Post was saying hesitantly, "Then it is assumed that the alien +craft wasn't friendly?" + +SupSpaceCom Michell indicated his disgust with an impatient flick of his +hand. "Any alien is a potential enemy, Post; that should be elementary. +And a potential enemy is an enemy in fact. Even though these aliens +might seem amiable enough today, how do we know they will be in the +future--possibly in the far future? There can be no friendship with +aliens. We can't afford to have neighbors; we can't afford to be +encircled by enemies." + +"Nor even friends?" Captain Post had asked softly. + +Michell glared at his subordinate. "That is what it amounts to, Captain; +and the thing to remember is that they feel the same way. They must! +They must seek us out and destroy us completely and as quickly as +possible. By the appearance of things, and partially through your +negligence, they've probably won the first round. They know our +location; we don't know theirs." + +The supreme commander of Earth's space forces dropped that point. "Let +us go back again. When you received this telepathic message--or whatever +it was--what was your reaction? Did it seem friendly, domineering, or +what?" + +Roger Post stood silent for a moment. Finally he answered, "Sir, I still +think it was the telviz, rather than a telepathic communication, but +the ... the tone of voice seemed to give me the impression of pitying." + +"Pitying!" Michell ejaculated. + +The captain was nervous but determined. "Yes, sir. I had the distinct +feeling that the being that sent the message felt sorry for us." + +The SupSpaceCom's face had gone red with indignation. + + * * * * * + +It was three years before another of the aliens was sighted. Three +hurried, crowded, harassed years during which all the Solar System's +resources were devoted to building and arming a huge space fleet and +rushing space defenses. The total wars of the Twentieth Century paled in +comparison to the all out efforts made to prepare for this conflict. + +The second view of the alien ship was similar to the first. This, time +the _Pendleton_, a four-man scout returning to the Venus base after a +patrol in the direction of Sirius, held the intruder in its viewer for a +full five minutes. Once again, no estimation of its distance nor size +could be made. All instruments pertaining to such detection seemed to +fail to function properly. + +And again the alien had sent a message--seemingly, at least, by telviz. +_We are no danger to you, mankind. Seek your destiny in peace. Your +troubles are from within._ + +The _Pendleton_ would have attempted to follow the strange craft, but +her fuel tanks were nearly dry and she had to proceed to Venus. Her +captain's report made a sensation. + +In a way, the whole business had been a good thing for Markham Gray. As +a free lancing journalist, he'd had a considerable advantage. First, he +was more than usually informed on space travel and the problems relating +to it, second, he had been present at--in fact, had made himself--the +first sighting of the aliens. + +His articles were in continuous demand in both magazines and newspaper +supplements; editors clamored for additional material from his +voco-typer. There was but one complaint against his copy--it wasn't +alarmist enough, sensational enough. Humanity had been whipped into a +state of hysteria, an emotional binge, and humanity loved it. + +And it was there that Markham Gray refused to go along. He had agreed +with poor Captain Post, now serving a life sentence in the Martian +prison camps; there had been no sign of hostility from the alien craft. +It was man who was preparing for war--and Gray knew of no period in +history in which preparations for war did not eventually culminate in +one. + +So it was not really strange that it was he the aliens chose to contact. + +It came in the early hours of the morning. He awakened, not without a +chill of fear, the sound of his telviz set in his ears. He had left it +turned off, he knew that. He shook his head to clear it, impatient of +the fact that with advancing years it was taking an increasing time to +become alert after sleep. + +He had not caught the message. For a brief moment he thought the sound +had been a dream. + +Then the telviz spoke again. The screen was blank. It said, _You are +awake, Mr. Gray?_ + +He stared at it, uncomprehending. + +He said, "I ... I don't understand." Then, suddenly, he did understand, +as though by an inspired revelation. Why they were able to speak +Amer-English. Why their ship looked like a Terran one. Why they had been +able to 'disrupt' the Earth ships instruments. + +He said haltingly, "Why are you here?" + +_We are familiar with your articles. You alone, Mr. Gray, seem at least +to seek understanding. Before we left, we felt it our duty to explain +our presence and our purpose--that is, partially._ + +"Yes," he said. Then, in an attempt to check the conclusion at which he +had just arrived, he added, "You are going from the Solar +System--leaving your home for a new one?" + +There was a long silence. + +Finally: _As we said, we were going to explain partially our presence +and purpose, but obviously you know more than we had thought. Would you +mind revealing the extent of your knowledge?_ + +Gray reached to the foot of the bed and took up his night robe; partly +because it was chilly, partly to give himself time to consider his +answer. Perhaps he shouldn't have said that. He was alone in this small +house; he had no knowledge of their intentions toward him. + +But he had gone too far now. He said, "Not at all. I am not sure of +where we stand, but things should be much clearer, shortly. First of +all, your spaceships are tiny. Probably less than ten pounds." + +_About four, Mr. Gray._ + +"Which explains why our instruments did not record them; the instruments +weren't disrupted, your ships were really too small to register. That's +where we made our first mistake. We assumed, for no valid reason, that +you were approximately our own size. We were willing to picture you as +non-human and possessing limbs, organs, and even senses different from +ours; but we have pictured 'aliens', as we've been calling you, as +approximately our own size. Actually, you must be quite tiny." + +_Quite tiny, Markham Gray. Although, of course, the way we think of it +is that you are quite huge._ + +He was becoming more confident now; widely awake, it was less strange to +hear the words come from his commonplace home model telviz set. "Our +second mistake was in looking for you throughout space," he said softly. + +There was hesitation again, then, _And why was that a mistake, Markham +Gray?_ + +Gray wet his lips. He might be signing his death warrant, but he +couldn't stop now. "Because you are not really 'aliens,' but of Earth +itself. Several facts point that way. For instance, your ships are +minute models of Earth ships, or, rather, of human ships. You have +obviously copied them. Then, too, you have been able to communicate with +humans too easily. An alien to our world would have had much more +trouble. Our ways, our methods of thinking, are not strange to you." + +_You have discovered a secret which has been kept for many centuries, +Markham Gray._ + +He was more at ease now; somehow there was no threat in the attitude of +the other. Gray said, "The hardest thing for me to understand is why it +_has_ been kept a secret. Obviously, you are a tiny form of Earth life, +probably an insect, which has progressed intellectually as far beyond +other insect forms as man beyond other mammals. Why have you kept this +a secret from humans?" + +_You should be able to answer that yourself, Mr. Gray. As we developed, +we were appalled by the only other form of life on our planet with a +developed intelligence. Why, not even your own kind is safe from your +bloodlust. The lesser animals on Earth have been either enslaved by +man--or slaughtered to extinction. And even your fellows in the recent +past were butchered; man killed man wholesale. Do you blame us for +keeping our existence a secret? We knew that the day humans discovered +there was another intelligence on Earth they would begin making plans to +dominate or, even more likely, to destroy us. Our only chance was to +find some refuge away from Earth. That is why we began to search the +other stars for a planet similar to this and suitable to our form of +life._ + +"You could have fought back, had we attempted to destroy you," Gray said +uncomfortably. + +The next words were coldly contemptuous. _We are not wanton killers, +like man. We have no desire to destroy._ + +Gray winced and changed the subject. "You have found your new planet?" + +_At last. We are about to begin transportation of our population to the +new world. For the first time since our ancestors became aware of the +awful presence of man on the Earth, we feel that we can look forward to +security._ + +Markham Gray remained quiet for a long time. "I am still amazed that you +were able to develop so far without our knowledge," he said finally. + +There was an edge of amusement in the answering thought. _We are very +tiny, Mr. Gray. And our greatest efforts have always been to keep from +under man's eyes. We have profited greatly, however, by our suitability +to espionage; little goes on in the human world of which we don't know. +Our progress was greatly aided by our being able to utilize the science +that man has already developed. You've noted, for instance, how similar +our space ships are to your own._ + +Gray nodded to himself. "But I'm also impressed by the manner in which +you have developed some mechanical device to duplicate human speech. +That involved original research." + +_At any rate, neither man nor we need dread the future any longer. We +have escaped the danger that overhung us, and you know now that we are +no alien enemies from space threatening you. We wish you well, mankind; +perhaps the future will see changes in your nature. It is in this +friendly hope that we have contacted humanity through you, Mr. Gray._ + +The elderly journalist said quietly, "I appreciate your thoughtfulness +and hope you are correct. Good luck to you in your new world." + +_Thank you, Markham Gray, and goodbye._ + +The set was suddenly quiet again. + + * * * * * + +Markham Gray stood before the assembled Military Council of the Solar +System. He had told his story without interruption to this most powerful +body on Earth. They listened to him in silence. + +When he had finished, he waited for their questions. The first came from +SupSpaceCom Michell. He said, thoughtfully, "You believe their words to +be substantially correct, Gray?" + +"I believe them to be entirely truthful, your excellency," the +journalist told him sincerely. + +"Then they are on the verge of leaving the Earth and removing to this +other planet in some other star system?" + +"That is their plan." + +The SupSpaceCom mused aloud. "We'll be able to locate them when they +blast off en masse. Their single ships are so small that they missed +being observed, but a mass flight we'll be able to detect. Our cruisers +will be able to follow them all the way, blasting them as they go. If +any get through to their new planet, we'll at least know where they are +and can take our time destroying it." + +The President of the Council added thoughtfully, "Quite correct, +Michell. And in the early stages of the fight, we should be able to +capture some of their ships intact. As soon as we find what kind of +insect they are, our bacteriologists will be able to work on a method to +eliminate any that might remain on Earth." + +Markham Gray's face had paled in horror. "But why?" he blurted. "Why not +let them go in peace? All they've wanted for centuries is to escape us, +to have a planet of their own." + +SupSpaceCom Michell eyed him tolerantly. "You seem to have been taken +in, Mr. Gray. Once they've established themselves in their new world, we +have no idea of how rapidly they might develop and how soon they might +become a threat. Even though they may be peaceful today, they are +potential enemies tomorrow. And a potential enemy _is_ an enemy, who +must be destroyed." + +Gray felt sickness well through him "But ... but this policy.... What +happens when man finally finds on his borders a life form more advanced +than he--an intelligence strong enough to destroy rather than be +destroyed?" + +The tolerance was gone now. The SupSpaceCom said coldly, "Don't be a +pessimistic defeatist, Gray." + +He turned to the admirals and generals of his staff. "Make all +preparations for the attack, gentlemen." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Potential Enemy, by Mack Reynolds + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40954 *** |
