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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3bd0370 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50872 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50872) diff --git a/old/50872-h.zip b/old/50872-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index acd169a..0000000 --- a/old/50872-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50872-h/50872-h.htm b/old/50872-h/50872-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ca16ed2..0000000 --- a/old/50872-h/50872-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1051 +0,0 @@ -<!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=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Not Fit For Children, by Evelyn E. 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Smith - -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/license - - -Title: Not Fit for Children - -Author: Evelyn E. Smith - -Release Date: January 7, 2016 [EBook #50872] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT FIT FOR CHILDREN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="368" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>NOT FIT FOR CHILDREN</h1> - -<p>By EVELYN E. SMITH</p> - -<p>Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction May 1953.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>Trading with the natives was like taking candy<br /> -from a kid—but which were the natives?</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Ppon lowered himself hastily to the orlop and ran toward me. "Hurry -up, Qan!" he projected on a sub-level, trying to escape my mother's -consciousness. "They're coming! All the others are up already."</p> - -<p>"Who's coming?" my mother wanted to know, but her full interest was -absorbed by her work, and she gave us only the side of her mind. "You -youngsters really must learn to think clearly."</p> - -<p>"Yes'm." Ppon projected suitable youthful embarrassment, but on a lower -level he was giggling. Later I must give him another warning; we young -ones could not yet separate the thought channels efficiently, so it was -more expedient not to try.</p> - -<p>"The <i>zkuchi</i> are coming," I lied glibly, knowing that the old ones -accept inanity as merely a sign of immaturity, "on hundreds of golden -wings that beat faster than light."</p> - -<p>Grandfather removed a part of his mind from his beloved work. "The -<i>zkuchi</i> are purely mythological creatures," he thought crossly. -"You're old enough to know better than that.... Qana," he appealed to -my mother, "why do you let him believe in such nonsense?"</p> - -<p>"The <i>zkuchi</i> are part of our cultural heritage, Father," she -projected gently. "We must not let the young ones forget our heritage. -Particularly if we are to be here for some time."</p> - -<p>"It seems to me you're unnecessarily pessimistic," he complained. "You -know I've never failed you yet. We shall get back, I promise you. It's -just that the transmutation takes time."</p> - -<p>"But it's taken such a long time already," she thought sadly. -"Sometimes I begin to have doubts." Then she apparently remembered that -serious matters should not be discussed before us young ones. As if -we didn't know what was going on. "Run along and play, children," she -advised, "but don't forget to check the atmosphere first."</p> - -<p>Grandfather started to excogitate something about how it would be -better if Ppon went and helped his father while I stayed and did -my lessons—you never seem to escape from lessons anywhere in the -Universe—but we got away before he could finish.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Topside, the others were jumping up and down in their excitement. -Ztul, the half-wit, was so upset he actually <i>spoke</i>: "Hurry, Qan, the -tourists are coming!"</p> - -<p>"Ztul, you must never, <i>never</i> make words aloud!" I thought fiercely. -"The old ones might hear and find out about the game."</p> - -<p>"It's a harmless game," Ppon contributed. "And useful, too. Your -grandfather needs the stuff."</p> - -<p>"Yes," I agreed, "but perhaps the old ones wouldn't see it that way. -They might even stop the game. Adults have funny ideas, and there's no -use asking for trouble."</p> - -<p>There was a chorus of assenting thought from the others. All of us had -our family troubles.</p> - -<p>We got to work. Quickly we arranged the interiors of the shelters which -we had cleverly built out of materials borrowed from below when the old -ones' perceptions were directed elsewhere. The essential structure -of the materials had not been changed and could easily be replaced -when the time came, but there was no use having to give involved -explanations. The old ones never seemed to understand anything.</p> - -<p>At first we had just built the shelters as play huts, but when the -first tourists had misunderstood, we had improved upon the original -misconception. Now we had a regular street full of rude dwellings. -Lucky for us the old ones never came topside.</p> - -<p>As the little spaceship landed, Ppon and I and four of the others were -ready at its door to form a welcoming committee. The rest dispersed to -play villagers. The others took turns alternating the two roles, but I, -of course, was always leader. After all, I'd made up the game.</p> - -<p>Two members of the crew dropped lightly out of the ship and slid a ramp -into place. Then the passengers—there was a sizable group this time, I -noted with satisfaction—came, followed by Sam, the guide, a grizzled -old human. He grinned at us. We were old friends, for he'd been leading -these tours for ten of their Earth years.</p> - -<p>The passengers stopped at the foot of the ramp and Sam ran forward -to face them. By now we were used to the appearance of the human -beings—small, binocular, with smooth, pasty skins—although they had -really frightened us when we first laid eyes on them.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Now, you see, folks," Sam bellowed through his megaphone, "the -scientists don't know everything. They said life could not exist out -here in the Asteroid Belt—and, behold, life! They said these little -planets were too small, had too little gravity to hold an atmosphere. -But you just breathe in that air, as pure and fresh and clean as the -atmosphere of our own Earth! Speaking of gravity, you'll notice that -we're walking, not floating. Matter of fact, you'll notice it's even a -little hard to walk; you seem a bit heavier than at home. And they said -there would be hardly any gravity. No, folks, those scientists know a -lot of things, I won't deny that, but they sure don't know everything."</p> - -<p>"Amazing!" a small, bespectacled male passenger said. "I can hardly -believe my own senses!"</p> - -<p>"Watch out for him," Ppon projected to me. "I think he's a scientist of -some kind."</p> - -<p>"Don't teach your ancestor to levitate," I conceptualized back.</p> - -<p>Of course what struck the passengers first was neither the atmosphere -nor the gravity; it was us. They never failed to be surprised, -although the travel folders should have shown them what to expect. -One of the folders had a picture of me, amusingly crude and -two-dimensional, it's true, but not entirely unflattering. I'm not -really purple, just a sort of tender fuchsia, but what could you expect -from the rudimentary color processes they used? Sam had let me have the -original and I always wished I could show it to Mother, but I couldn't -without having to explain where it had come from.</p> - -<p>"They're so cute!" a thin female screamed. "Almost like big squirrels, -really, except for all those arms." Her teeth protruded more than those -of the small rodent she was thinking about, or than mine, for that -matter.</p> - -<p>"Be careful, ma'am," the guide warned her. "They speak English."</p> - -<p>"They do? How clever of them. Why, they must be quite intelligent, -then."</p> - -<p>"They are of a pretty high order of intelligence," the guide agreed, -"although their methods of reasoning have always baffled scientists. -Somehow they seem to <i>sense</i> scientists, think of them as their -enemies, and just clam up entirely."</p> - -<p>"I think they're just simply too cute," she said, gazing at me fondly.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>srrk</i> yourself, madam," I excogitated, confident that humans -were non-telepathic.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She looked a little disturbed, though; I'd better watch myself. After -all, as leader I had to set a good example.</p> - -<p>"This here is Qan," the guide introduced me. "Headman or chief or -something of the tribe. He is always on hand to greet us."</p> - -<p>"Welcome, travelers from a distant star," I intoned, wrapping my -mother's second-best cloak more impressively about me, "to the humble -land of the <i>Gchi</i>. Come in peace, go in peace."</p> - -<p>"Why, he speaks excellent English," the scientist exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"They pick up things very fast," Sam explained.</p> - -<p>"Natives can be very, very shrewd," a stout female commented, clutching -her handbag tightly.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="371" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"And now," Sam said, "we will visit the rude dwellings of this simple, -primitive, but hospitable people."</p> - -<p>"<i>People!</i>" Ppon projected. "You better mind your language, Buster! -People, indeed!"</p> - -<p>"Our friend Qan will lead the way." Sam waved toward me.</p> - -<p>I smiled back at him, but didn't move.</p> - -<p>"Whatsa matter?" he hissed. "Don't you trust me? Your old pal Sam?"</p> - -<p>"No," I whispered back. "Last time I let you pay me at the end of the -tour, the take was $3.75 short."</p> - -<p>He tried another tack. "But look, Qan, it's a hell of a job getting all -those coins together. Why can't you take paper money instead?"</p> - -<p>"What good would paper money do me up here?"</p> - -<p>"What I can't figure out is what good the metal does you up here, -either."</p> - -<p>I beamed. "We eat it."</p> - -<p>Muttering to himself, he walked over to the ship and called one of the -crewmen. They dragged a bag out of the ship's hold. Puffing, they laid -it at my feet. I tossed it to Ztul.</p> - -<p>"Count it," I ordered out loud, "and if there's any missing, no one -leaves this planet alive." I snarled ferociously.</p> - -<p>Everybody laughed. It was part of the act.</p> - -<p>"You will notice," Sam announced as we led the way down the street, -"that the <i>Gchi</i> are all about the same size. No young ones among them. -We don't know whether this is because they reproduce differently from -us, or because they have concealed their offspring."</p> - -<p>"The children must be dear little creatures," the toothy female gushed. -"If even the adults are cute when they're seven or eight feet tall, -the little ones must be simply precious.... Tell me, Chief, do you have -any children?"</p> - -<p>"Don't understand," I grunted. "Concept unfamiliar. Not know what -children is."</p> - -<p>"Funny," remarked the scientist, "he was speaking perfectly good -English before."</p> - -<p>"Watch yourself, kid," Ppon ideated warningly to me.</p> - -<p>"Children are ..." she began and stopped. "They're—well, how do you -reproduce?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ppon, the <i>oosh</i>-head, took it upon himself to answer. "If you'll just -step into my hut, madam, I'll be delighted to show you."</p> - -<p>"If you ask me," the scientist stated, "these are frauds."</p> - -<p>"Whaddya mean frauds?" Sam demanded indignantly.</p> - -<p>"Human beings dressed up as extraterrestrials. They speak too good an -English. Their concepts are too much like ours. Their sense of humor is -equally vul—too similar."</p> - -<p>"You and your big mouth!" I projected to Ppon.</p> - -<p>"Look who's thinking!" he excogitated back. I could see I'd have to -give him a mind-lashing later.</p> - -<p>It was up to me to save the situation. "If you would like to examine me -more closely, sir," I addressed the scientist, "you will see that I -am not a human being."</p> - -<p>He approached me dubiously.</p> - -<p>"Closer," I said, looking him in the eye, as I bared my teeth and -growled. "I have five eyes, sir, and you will notice that I am looking -at you with each one of them. I have seven arms, sir—" here I reached -out to grab him "—and you will notice that they are all living tissue."</p> - -<p>"No, you couldn't be a human being," he agreed, backing away as soon as -I released my grip, "but the whole thing is ... odd. Very odd."</p> - -<p>"If anthropologists on Earth can't explain all the customs of the -primitives there," Sam tried to placate him, "how can we explain the -behavior of extraterrestrials? Let's go into some of the houses. The -chief has kindly given us his permission to look around."</p> - -<p>"Our houses are your houses," I stated, bowing graciously.</p> - -<p>As always, the tourists grew extremely enthusiastic about the -furniture in our simple dwellings. "What lovely—er—things you have," -squirrel-tooth commented. "What are they used for?"</p> - -<p>"Well, the <i>pryu</i> is for the <i>mrach</i>, of course," I explained glibly, -"and the <i>wrooov</i> is much used for <i>cvrking</i> the <i>budz</i>, although the -<i>ywrl</i> is preferred by the less discriminating.</p> - -<p>"Oh," she said. "How I should love to have one of the—'<i>wroov</i>' I -think it was you said, for my very own. I wonder whether...."</p> - -<p>By a curious coincidence, Hsoj arrived at this point, carrying a tray -full of things and stuff.</p> - -<p>"Artifacts!" he shouted. "Nice artifacts! Who wants to buy artifacts?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>All the tourists did. They were pretty good artifacts, if I do say -so myself. I'd made them out of the junk I rescued from our dustbins -before the disintegration unit got to work. Honestly, I can't -understand how the old ones can complain about our being wasteful and -then go and throw away all sorts of perfectly useful things.</p> - -<p>"You must pay the natives in metal," the guide explained. "They accept -only coins."</p> - -<p>"Why?" the stout female wanted to know. "Do they really eat metal?"</p> - -<p>"I doubt it. One of them ate a couple of pounds of Earth candy a -tourist gave him last time and he seemed to enjoy it without ill -effects."</p> - -<p>"Without ill effects!" Ppon excogitated. "You should have seen Ztul -afterward, boy!"</p> - -<p>"Look, Mac." A short fat human offered Hsoj a small silver coin and -then five larger brown ones. "Which would you rather have?"</p> - -<p>"Them." Hsoj pointed unhesitatingly to the brown coins.</p> - -<p>A smile rippled covertly through the tourists.</p> - -<p>"They're a simple and child-like people, but really so good-natured," -Sam footnoted.</p> - -<p>All of us gave simple good-natured smiles as Hsoj accepted the gift of -the brown coins.</p> - -<p>"Keep up the good work," I projected. "We can use all the copper we can -get."</p> - -<p>"You like metal, dear?" a female asked Hsoj. She unfastened a belt from -around her waist. "Would you take this in exchange for some of your -pretty things?"</p> - -<p>"Say 'yes,'" I conceptualized. "That's steel. Old and worthless to her, -but not to us."</p> - -<p>"I know, I know," Hsoj ideated impatiently. "What makes you think -you're the only one who knows anything?"</p> - -<p>Never had we got such a big haul before, because everybody seemed to -have all sorts of metal stuff on him that he valued less than coins.</p> - -<p>Now came the sad part of the spiel. "Remember, folks, these simple, -honest individuals you see before you are but the scanty remnants of a -once-proud race who spanned the skies. For their ancestors must have -been godlike indeed to have erected such edifices as that commanding -structure over there." Sam pointed to the portable atmosphere machine -which was set up several <i>yebil</i> away to give our playground proper -air. "Once glorious, now fallen into ruin and decay."</p> - -<p>"You're going to catch <i>muh</i> from the old ones," Ppon ideated, "when -they find out you haven't been keeping the machine clean."</p> - -<p>"Don't be a silly <i>oosh</i>," I thought back with a mental grin. "I'm -using the atmosphere machine to create atmosphere."</p> - -<p>"You're getting to be as stupid as a human," he thought in disgust.</p> - -<p>"May we go inside?" the scientific passenger asked Sam.</p> - -<p>"No, indeed," I said hastily. "It is our temple, sacred to the gods. No -unbeliever may set foot in it."</p> - -<p>"What are the basic tenets of your religion?" the scientist wanted to -know.</p> - -<p>"We do not talk about it," I said with dignity. "It is tabu. Bad form."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"And now," announced the guide, glancing at his watch, "we have just -time for the war dance before we leave for Vesta."</p> - -<p>"Against whom are they planning a war?" asked a small passenger, -turning pale.</p> - -<p>"It's a vestigial ritual," Sam explained quickly, "dating back to the -days when there were other—er—when there was somebody to fight. Just -an invocation to the gods ... general stuff like that ... nothing to be -afraid of. Isn't it so, Qan?"</p> - -<p>"Quite so," I replied, folding all my arms across my mother's cloak. -"Come in peace, go in peace. Our motto."</p> - -<p>We started the dance. It wouldn't have got us a passing mark in first -grade, where we'd learned it <i>rffi</i> ago, but our version of the dance -of the <i>zkuchi</i> was plenty good enough for the tourists.</p> - -<p>"If I ever visit Earth, <i>Janna</i> forbid," I thought to Ppon as we -executed an intricate caracole, "I'm going to wear earplugs all the -time."</p> - -<p>The dance finished.</p> - -<p>"Now everybody get together!" Sam shouted, clapping his hands to round -up his charges. "We are about to leave little <i>Gchik</i>."</p> - -<p>"He should only know what <i>gchik</i> means," Ppon sniggered mentally.</p> - -<p>"Little <i>Gchik</i> is barren, dying, its past glories all but forgotten," -Sam almost sobbed, "but still its simple, warm-hearted inhabitants -carry on bravely...."</p> - -<p>"Couldn't we <i>do</i> something for them?" suggested the stout female.</p> - -<p>Everybody murmured assent. This contingency arose all too often—a -result of our being just too lovable.</p> - -<p>"No one can help us," I said in a deep voice, pulling the cloak over -my face. The <i>idzik</i> feathers trimming it tickled like crazy. "We must -dree our own weird alone. Besides, the air of <i>Gchik</i> has a deleterious -effect upon human beings if they're exposed to it for longer than four -hours."</p> - -<p>There was a mad scramble to reach the ship.</p> - -<p>"Stand by the atmosphere machine, Hsoj," I instructed, "to poison a -little air in case anybody wants to take a sample."</p> - -<p>The scientist actually did, in a little bottle he seemed to have -brought along for the purpose; but he got off the "asteroid" as rapidly -as the rest of them, after that.</p> - -<p>We watched the spaceship dwindle to a silver mote in the distance.</p> - -<p>"Whew," Ppon thought, sinking to the surface. "That war dance sure -takes a lot out of a fellow."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then he conceptualized indignantly as he—as well as the rest of -us—floated off the top level. "Somebody's cut the gravity!"</p> - -<p>"Must be Grandfather," I mentalized. "I suppose he thinks we've been -out long enough, so he's warning us, just as if we were a bunch of -infants. I guess we'd better go inside, though. Let's not forget to -turn off the atmosphere, fellows. It uses too much energy and the old -ones won't let us play topside any more."</p> - -<p>"You know everything, don't you, Qan?" Ppon sneered.</p> - -<p>I ignored him. "Pretty good haul," I excogitated as I hefted the bags -of metal. "Here, Ztul, catch!"</p> - -<p>"You always make me carry everything!" he complained.</p> - -<p>Grandfather caught us as we lowered ourselves from the airlock. I -figured he must have been getting suspicious or otherwise he'd never -have left his beloved engines.</p> - -<p>"What's this you youngsters have?" he wanted to know, pouncing on -our bags. "Metal, eh? I suppose you were going to make another fake -meteorite out of it for me, were you?"</p> - -<p>"I thought you wanted metal, Grandfather," I sulked. He could have been -more appreciative.</p> - -<p>"Certainly I want metal. You know I need it to get the drive working -again. But what I want to know is where you got it from. I'd think you -stole it, but how could even little <i>muhli</i> like you steal out here in -space?"</p> - -<p>"They have always brought you metal from time to time, Father," Mother -projected, coming out as she overthought us. "So clever of them, I -always thought."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I've been thinking that their encountering so many meteorites -was a singularly curious coincidence. And they were curious meteorites, -too. I suppose the young ones made them themselves."</p> - -<p>"But out of what, Father? You know we don't have any spare metal on -the ship. That's why you haven't been able to get the repairs finished -before. Where else could they get the metal but from meteorites?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know where they get their metal from, but certainly not from -meteorites. These pieces here are artifacts. Look, the metal has been -more or less refined and roughly formed into shapes with crude designs -upon them. Tell me the truth, Qan, where did you get these?"</p> - -<p>"Some people gave them to us," I replied sullenly.</p> - -<p>"People?" asked my mother. "What are people?"</p> - -<p>"Natives of this solar system. They call themselves people."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!" my grandfather interjected. "It's just another one of your -fantasies. You know what the astronomers say—none of the planets of -this little system is capable of supporting life."</p> - -<p>"They come from the third planet," I persisted, trying to keep from -disgracing myself by <i>fllwng</i> in front of the other young ones. "There -is life there. All of us have seen them. Besides, there is the metal."</p> - -<p>My companions chorused agreement.</p> - -<p>"You see, Father," my mother smiled, stroking my head with three hands, -"the wise ones are not always right."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>My grandfather nodded his head slowly. "It is not impossible, I -suppose. I hope it is true that these—people <i>gave</i> you and your -friends the metal, Qan."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, Grandfather," I thought anxiously. "Of their own free will."</p> - -<p>"Well—" he continued, not altogether convinced—"this lot should be -enough to repair the engines. Perhaps, when we take off, we should have -a look at the youngsters' third planet on the way home."</p> - -<p>"But this trip has taken such a long time already, Father," my mother -protested. "Almost a <i>rff</i>; the young ones have missed nearly two -semesters of school. And Qan has been getting some very peculiar -ideas—from those <i>people</i>, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"But if there is some sort of intelligent life," Grandfather thought, -"it's our duty to visit it. Next time we need to stop the ship for -repairs, it might be more convenient to put in at this third planet -instead of just hanging out there in space. And the young ones say the -natives seem to be friendly."</p> - -<p>"I'd like to see Sam's face when he comes back and finds his 'asteroid' -gone," I conceptualized.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Ppon agreed, with the edge of his mind, but his main channel was -turned in another direction. "That is the end of this game now, you -know. In the next game <i>I</i> shall be leader."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes?" I thought back. "I'm the leader and I'm staying leader, -because I am the biggest and cleverest."</p> - -<p>"Children!" my mother protested, distressed. "I'm afraid you've picked -up some really unpleasant concepts from those dreadful natives."</p> - -<p>"Come, come, Qana," Grandfather ideated, "we mustn't be intolerant."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps not," she replied with heat, "and I know the natives probably -don't know any better, but I am not going to have my young one or -anyone else's contaminated. Visit the third planet if you wish, but not -this time. You'll have to make a special trip for it. I'm not going to -let you stop off there while the young ones are aboard. It's obviously -no fit place for children."</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Fit for Children, by Evelyn E. 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Smith - -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/license - - -Title: Not Fit for Children - -Author: Evelyn E. Smith - -Release Date: January 7, 2016 [EBook #50872] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT FIT FOR CHILDREN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - NOT FIT FOR CHILDREN - - By EVELYN E. SMITH - - Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction May 1953. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Trading with the natives was like taking candy - from a kid--but which were the natives? - - -Ppon lowered himself hastily to the orlop and ran toward me. "Hurry -up, Qan!" he projected on a sub-level, trying to escape my mother's -consciousness. "They're coming! All the others are up already." - -"Who's coming?" my mother wanted to know, but her full interest was -absorbed by her work, and she gave us only the side of her mind. "You -youngsters really must learn to think clearly." - -"Yes'm." Ppon projected suitable youthful embarrassment, but on a lower -level he was giggling. Later I must give him another warning; we young -ones could not yet separate the thought channels efficiently, so it was -more expedient not to try. - -"The _zkuchi_ are coming," I lied glibly, knowing that the old ones -accept inanity as merely a sign of immaturity, "on hundreds of golden -wings that beat faster than light." - -Grandfather removed a part of his mind from his beloved work. "The -_zkuchi_ are purely mythological creatures," he thought crossly. -"You're old enough to know better than that.... Qana," he appealed to -my mother, "why do you let him believe in such nonsense?" - -"The _zkuchi_ are part of our cultural heritage, Father," she -projected gently. "We must not let the young ones forget our heritage. -Particularly if we are to be here for some time." - -"It seems to me you're unnecessarily pessimistic," he complained. "You -know I've never failed you yet. We shall get back, I promise you. It's -just that the transmutation takes time." - -"But it's taken such a long time already," she thought sadly. -"Sometimes I begin to have doubts." Then she apparently remembered that -serious matters should not be discussed before us young ones. As if -we didn't know what was going on. "Run along and play, children," she -advised, "but don't forget to check the atmosphere first." - -Grandfather started to excogitate something about how it would be -better if Ppon went and helped his father while I stayed and did -my lessons--you never seem to escape from lessons anywhere in the -Universe--but we got away before he could finish. - - * * * * * - -Topside, the others were jumping up and down in their excitement. -Ztul, the half-wit, was so upset he actually _spoke_: "Hurry, Qan, the -tourists are coming!" - -"Ztul, you must never, _never_ make words aloud!" I thought fiercely. -"The old ones might hear and find out about the game." - -"It's a harmless game," Ppon contributed. "And useful, too. Your -grandfather needs the stuff." - -"Yes," I agreed, "but perhaps the old ones wouldn't see it that way. -They might even stop the game. Adults have funny ideas, and there's no -use asking for trouble." - -There was a chorus of assenting thought from the others. All of us had -our family troubles. - -We got to work. Quickly we arranged the interiors of the shelters which -we had cleverly built out of materials borrowed from below when the old -ones' perceptions were directed elsewhere. The essential structure -of the materials had not been changed and could easily be replaced -when the time came, but there was no use having to give involved -explanations. The old ones never seemed to understand anything. - -At first we had just built the shelters as play huts, but when the -first tourists had misunderstood, we had improved upon the original -misconception. Now we had a regular street full of rude dwellings. -Lucky for us the old ones never came topside. - -As the little spaceship landed, Ppon and I and four of the others were -ready at its door to form a welcoming committee. The rest dispersed to -play villagers. The others took turns alternating the two roles, but I, -of course, was always leader. After all, I'd made up the game. - -Two members of the crew dropped lightly out of the ship and slid a ramp -into place. Then the passengers--there was a sizable group this time, I -noted with satisfaction--came, followed by Sam, the guide, a grizzled -old human. He grinned at us. We were old friends, for he'd been leading -these tours for ten of their Earth years. - -The passengers stopped at the foot of the ramp and Sam ran forward -to face them. By now we were used to the appearance of the human -beings--small, binocular, with smooth, pasty skins--although they had -really frightened us when we first laid eyes on them. - - * * * * * - -"Now, you see, folks," Sam bellowed through his megaphone, "the -scientists don't know everything. They said life could not exist out -here in the Asteroid Belt--and, behold, life! They said these little -planets were too small, had too little gravity to hold an atmosphere. -But you just breathe in that air, as pure and fresh and clean as the -atmosphere of our own Earth! Speaking of gravity, you'll notice that -we're walking, not floating. Matter of fact, you'll notice it's even a -little hard to walk; you seem a bit heavier than at home. And they said -there would be hardly any gravity. No, folks, those scientists know a -lot of things, I won't deny that, but they sure don't know everything." - -"Amazing!" a small, bespectacled male passenger said. "I can hardly -believe my own senses!" - -"Watch out for him," Ppon projected to me. "I think he's a scientist of -some kind." - -"Don't teach your ancestor to levitate," I conceptualized back. - -Of course what struck the passengers first was neither the atmosphere -nor the gravity; it was us. They never failed to be surprised, -although the travel folders should have shown them what to expect. -One of the folders had a picture of me, amusingly crude and -two-dimensional, it's true, but not entirely unflattering. I'm not -really purple, just a sort of tender fuchsia, but what could you expect -from the rudimentary color processes they used? Sam had let me have the -original and I always wished I could show it to Mother, but I couldn't -without having to explain where it had come from. - -"They're so cute!" a thin female screamed. "Almost like big squirrels, -really, except for all those arms." Her teeth protruded more than those -of the small rodent she was thinking about, or than mine, for that -matter. - -"Be careful, ma'am," the guide warned her. "They speak English." - -"They do? How clever of them. Why, they must be quite intelligent, -then." - -"They are of a pretty high order of intelligence," the guide agreed, -"although their methods of reasoning have always baffled scientists. -Somehow they seem to _sense_ scientists, think of them as their -enemies, and just clam up entirely." - -"I think they're just simply too cute," she said, gazing at me fondly. - -"Ah, _srrk_ yourself, madam," I excogitated, confident that humans -were non-telepathic. - - * * * * * - -She looked a little disturbed, though; I'd better watch myself. After -all, as leader I had to set a good example. - -"This here is Qan," the guide introduced me. "Headman or chief or -something of the tribe. He is always on hand to greet us." - -"Welcome, travelers from a distant star," I intoned, wrapping my -mother's second-best cloak more impressively about me, "to the humble -land of the _Gchi_. Come in peace, go in peace." - -"Why, he speaks excellent English," the scientist exclaimed. - -"They pick up things very fast," Sam explained. - -"Natives can be very, very shrewd," a stout female commented, clutching -her handbag tightly. - -"And now," Sam said, "we will visit the rude dwellings of this simple, -primitive, but hospitable people." - -"_People!_" Ppon projected. "You better mind your language, Buster! -People, indeed!" - -"Our friend Qan will lead the way." Sam waved toward me. - -I smiled back at him, but didn't move. - -"Whatsa matter?" he hissed. "Don't you trust me? Your old pal Sam?" - -"No," I whispered back. "Last time I let you pay me at the end of the -tour, the take was $3.75 short." - -He tried another tack. "But look, Qan, it's a hell of a job getting all -those coins together. Why can't you take paper money instead?" - -"What good would paper money do me up here?" - -"What I can't figure out is what good the metal does you up here, -either." - -I beamed. "We eat it." - -Muttering to himself, he walked over to the ship and called one of the -crewmen. They dragged a bag out of the ship's hold. Puffing, they laid -it at my feet. I tossed it to Ztul. - -"Count it," I ordered out loud, "and if there's any missing, no one -leaves this planet alive." I snarled ferociously. - -Everybody laughed. It was part of the act. - -"You will notice," Sam announced as we led the way down the street, -"that the _Gchi_ are all about the same size. No young ones among them. -We don't know whether this is because they reproduce differently from -us, or because they have concealed their offspring." - -"The children must be dear little creatures," the toothy female gushed. -"If even the adults are cute when they're seven or eight feet tall, -the little ones must be simply precious.... Tell me, Chief, do you have -any children?" - -"Don't understand," I grunted. "Concept unfamiliar. Not know what -children is." - -"Funny," remarked the scientist, "he was speaking perfectly good -English before." - -"Watch yourself, kid," Ppon ideated warningly to me. - -"Children are ..." she began and stopped. "They're--well, how do you -reproduce?" - - * * * * * - -Ppon, the _oosh_-head, took it upon himself to answer. "If you'll just -step into my hut, madam, I'll be delighted to show you." - -"If you ask me," the scientist stated, "these are frauds." - -"Whaddya mean frauds?" Sam demanded indignantly. - -"Human beings dressed up as extraterrestrials. They speak too good an -English. Their concepts are too much like ours. Their sense of humor is -equally vul--too similar." - -"You and your big mouth!" I projected to Ppon. - -"Look who's thinking!" he excogitated back. I could see I'd have to -give him a mind-lashing later. - -It was up to me to save the situation. "If you would like to examine me -more closely, sir," I addressed the scientist, "you will see that I -am not a human being." - -He approached me dubiously. - -"Closer," I said, looking him in the eye, as I bared my teeth and -growled. "I have five eyes, sir, and you will notice that I am looking -at you with each one of them. I have seven arms, sir--" here I reached -out to grab him "--and you will notice that they are all living tissue." - -"No, you couldn't be a human being," he agreed, backing away as soon as -I released my grip, "but the whole thing is ... odd. Very odd." - -"If anthropologists on Earth can't explain all the customs of the -primitives there," Sam tried to placate him, "how can we explain the -behavior of extraterrestrials? Let's go into some of the houses. The -chief has kindly given us his permission to look around." - -"Our houses are your houses," I stated, bowing graciously. - -As always, the tourists grew extremely enthusiastic about the -furniture in our simple dwellings. "What lovely--er--things you have," -squirrel-tooth commented. "What are they used for?" - -"Well, the _pryu_ is for the _mrach_, of course," I explained glibly, -"and the _wrooov_ is much used for _cvrking_ the _budz_, although the -_ywrl_ is preferred by the less discriminating. - -"Oh," she said. "How I should love to have one of the--'_wroov_' I -think it was you said, for my very own. I wonder whether...." - -By a curious coincidence, Hsoj arrived at this point, carrying a tray -full of things and stuff. - -"Artifacts!" he shouted. "Nice artifacts! Who wants to buy artifacts?" - - * * * * * - -All the tourists did. They were pretty good artifacts, if I do say -so myself. I'd made them out of the junk I rescued from our dustbins -before the disintegration unit got to work. Honestly, I can't -understand how the old ones can complain about our being wasteful and -then go and throw away all sorts of perfectly useful things. - -"You must pay the natives in metal," the guide explained. "They accept -only coins." - -"Why?" the stout female wanted to know. "Do they really eat metal?" - -"I doubt it. One of them ate a couple of pounds of Earth candy a -tourist gave him last time and he seemed to enjoy it without ill -effects." - -"Without ill effects!" Ppon excogitated. "You should have seen Ztul -afterward, boy!" - -"Look, Mac." A short fat human offered Hsoj a small silver coin and -then five larger brown ones. "Which would you rather have?" - -"Them." Hsoj pointed unhesitatingly to the brown coins. - -A smile rippled covertly through the tourists. - -"They're a simple and child-like people, but really so good-natured," -Sam footnoted. - -All of us gave simple good-natured smiles as Hsoj accepted the gift of -the brown coins. - -"Keep up the good work," I projected. "We can use all the copper we can -get." - -"You like metal, dear?" a female asked Hsoj. She unfastened a belt from -around her waist. "Would you take this in exchange for some of your -pretty things?" - -"Say 'yes,'" I conceptualized. "That's steel. Old and worthless to her, -but not to us." - -"I know, I know," Hsoj ideated impatiently. "What makes you think -you're the only one who knows anything?" - -Never had we got such a big haul before, because everybody seemed to -have all sorts of metal stuff on him that he valued less than coins. - -Now came the sad part of the spiel. "Remember, folks, these simple, -honest individuals you see before you are but the scanty remnants of a -once-proud race who spanned the skies. For their ancestors must have -been godlike indeed to have erected such edifices as that commanding -structure over there." Sam pointed to the portable atmosphere machine -which was set up several _yebil_ away to give our playground proper -air. "Once glorious, now fallen into ruin and decay." - -"You're going to catch _muh_ from the old ones," Ppon ideated, "when -they find out you haven't been keeping the machine clean." - -"Don't be a silly _oosh_," I thought back with a mental grin. "I'm -using the atmosphere machine to create atmosphere." - -"You're getting to be as stupid as a human," he thought in disgust. - -"May we go inside?" the scientific passenger asked Sam. - -"No, indeed," I said hastily. "It is our temple, sacred to the gods. No -unbeliever may set foot in it." - -"What are the basic tenets of your religion?" the scientist wanted to -know. - -"We do not talk about it," I said with dignity. "It is tabu. Bad form." - - * * * * * - -"And now," announced the guide, glancing at his watch, "we have just -time for the war dance before we leave for Vesta." - -"Against whom are they planning a war?" asked a small passenger, -turning pale. - -"It's a vestigial ritual," Sam explained quickly, "dating back to the -days when there were other--er--when there was somebody to fight. Just -an invocation to the gods ... general stuff like that ... nothing to be -afraid of. Isn't it so, Qan?" - -"Quite so," I replied, folding all my arms across my mother's cloak. -"Come in peace, go in peace. Our motto." - -We started the dance. It wouldn't have got us a passing mark in first -grade, where we'd learned it _rffi_ ago, but our version of the dance -of the _zkuchi_ was plenty good enough for the tourists. - -"If I ever visit Earth, _Janna_ forbid," I thought to Ppon as we -executed an intricate caracole, "I'm going to wear earplugs all the -time." - -The dance finished. - -"Now everybody get together!" Sam shouted, clapping his hands to round -up his charges. "We are about to leave little _Gchik_." - -"He should only know what _gchik_ means," Ppon sniggered mentally. - -"Little _Gchik_ is barren, dying, its past glories all but forgotten," -Sam almost sobbed, "but still its simple, warm-hearted inhabitants -carry on bravely...." - -"Couldn't we _do_ something for them?" suggested the stout female. - -Everybody murmured assent. This contingency arose all too often--a -result of our being just too lovable. - -"No one can help us," I said in a deep voice, pulling the cloak over -my face. The _idzik_ feathers trimming it tickled like crazy. "We must -dree our own weird alone. Besides, the air of _Gchik_ has a deleterious -effect upon human beings if they're exposed to it for longer than four -hours." - -There was a mad scramble to reach the ship. - -"Stand by the atmosphere machine, Hsoj," I instructed, "to poison a -little air in case anybody wants to take a sample." - -The scientist actually did, in a little bottle he seemed to have -brought along for the purpose; but he got off the "asteroid" as rapidly -as the rest of them, after that. - -We watched the spaceship dwindle to a silver mote in the distance. - -"Whew," Ppon thought, sinking to the surface. "That war dance sure -takes a lot out of a fellow." - - * * * * * - -Then he conceptualized indignantly as he--as well as the rest of -us--floated off the top level. "Somebody's cut the gravity!" - -"Must be Grandfather," I mentalized. "I suppose he thinks we've been -out long enough, so he's warning us, just as if we were a bunch of -infants. I guess we'd better go inside, though. Let's not forget to -turn off the atmosphere, fellows. It uses too much energy and the old -ones won't let us play topside any more." - -"You know everything, don't you, Qan?" Ppon sneered. - -I ignored him. "Pretty good haul," I excogitated as I hefted the bags -of metal. "Here, Ztul, catch!" - -"You always make me carry everything!" he complained. - -Grandfather caught us as we lowered ourselves from the airlock. I -figured he must have been getting suspicious or otherwise he'd never -have left his beloved engines. - -"What's this you youngsters have?" he wanted to know, pouncing on -our bags. "Metal, eh? I suppose you were going to make another fake -meteorite out of it for me, were you?" - -"I thought you wanted metal, Grandfather," I sulked. He could have been -more appreciative. - -"Certainly I want metal. You know I need it to get the drive working -again. But what I want to know is where you got it from. I'd think you -stole it, but how could even little _muhli_ like you steal out here in -space?" - -"They have always brought you metal from time to time, Father," Mother -projected, coming out as she overthought us. "So clever of them, I -always thought." - -"Yes, but I've been thinking that their encountering so many meteorites -was a singularly curious coincidence. And they were curious meteorites, -too. I suppose the young ones made them themselves." - -"But out of what, Father? You know we don't have any spare metal on -the ship. That's why you haven't been able to get the repairs finished -before. Where else could they get the metal but from meteorites?" - -"I don't know where they get their metal from, but certainly not from -meteorites. These pieces here are artifacts. Look, the metal has been -more or less refined and roughly formed into shapes with crude designs -upon them. Tell me the truth, Qan, where did you get these?" - -"Some people gave them to us," I replied sullenly. - -"People?" asked my mother. "What are people?" - -"Natives of this solar system. They call themselves people." - -"Nonsense!" my grandfather interjected. "It's just another one of your -fantasies. You know what the astronomers say--none of the planets of -this little system is capable of supporting life." - -"They come from the third planet," I persisted, trying to keep from -disgracing myself by _fllwng_ in front of the other young ones. "There -is life there. All of us have seen them. Besides, there is the metal." - -My companions chorused agreement. - -"You see, Father," my mother smiled, stroking my head with three hands, -"the wise ones are not always right." - - * * * * * - -My grandfather nodded his head slowly. "It is not impossible, I -suppose. I hope it is true that these--people _gave_ you and your -friends the metal, Qan." - -"Oh, yes, Grandfather," I thought anxiously. "Of their own free will." - -"Well--" he continued, not altogether convinced--"this lot should be -enough to repair the engines. Perhaps, when we take off, we should have -a look at the youngsters' third planet on the way home." - -"But this trip has taken such a long time already, Father," my mother -protested. "Almost a _rff_; the young ones have missed nearly two -semesters of school. And Qan has been getting some very peculiar -ideas--from those _people_, I suppose." - -"But if there is some sort of intelligent life," Grandfather thought, -"it's our duty to visit it. Next time we need to stop the ship for -repairs, it might be more convenient to put in at this third planet -instead of just hanging out there in space. And the young ones say the -natives seem to be friendly." - -"I'd like to see Sam's face when he comes back and finds his 'asteroid' -gone," I conceptualized. - -"Yes," Ppon agreed, with the edge of his mind, but his main channel was -turned in another direction. "That is the end of this game now, you -know. In the next game _I_ shall be leader." - -"Oh, yes?" I thought back. "I'm the leader and I'm staying leader, -because I am the biggest and cleverest." - -"Children!" my mother protested, distressed. "I'm afraid you've picked -up some really unpleasant concepts from those dreadful natives." - -"Come, come, Qana," Grandfather ideated, "we mustn't be intolerant." - -"Perhaps not," she replied with heat, "and I know the natives probably -don't know any better, but I am not going to have my young one or -anyone else's contaminated. Visit the third planet if you wish, but not -this time. You'll have to make a special trip for it. I'm not going to -let you stop off there while the young ones are aboard. It's obviously -no fit place for children." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Fit for Children, by Evelyn E. Smith - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT FIT FOR CHILDREN *** - -***** This file should be named 50872.txt or 50872.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/7/50872/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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