Be It Ever Thus

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  _Men have fought and died for life and liberty since the beginning of time, and they will continue the fight until time finally comes to an end. Here is a thoroughly readable story about just such a situation--a story which could well be a forecast of the chilling future of your children and ours._

  be it ever thus

  _by ... Robert Moore Williams_

  The planet's natives were so similar to their conquerors that no one could tell them apart--except for their difference in thinking.

  This was Graduation Day. The senior class from the Star Institute ofAdvanced Science was scheduled to go through the Museum of the Conqueredand observe the remnants of the race that had once ruled this planet.There were many such museums maintained for the purpose of allowing thepeople to see the greatness their ancestors had displayed in conqueringthis world and also to demonstrate how thorough and how complete thatconquest had been. Perhaps the museums had other reasons for existing,but the authorities did not reveal these reasons. Visiting such a museumwas part of the exercises of every graduating class.

  Billy Kasker arrived early, to take care of all last minute problems forMr. Phipper, the instructor who would take the group through the museum,and to make certain that all of the members of the graduating class knewwhat they were supposed to do on the trip. Billy Kasker was classpresident. A handsome, husky youth, accommodating, generous, andthoughtful to a fault. He was well liked both by the faculty and thestudents. He was pleasant to everybody, even to Joe Buckner, who calledhim "teacher's pet" and sneeringly remarked that he had been electedclass president as a result of a superb job of boot-licking.

  Even such remarks as these had not disturbed Bill Kasker. He still actedas if Joe Buckner was his best friend.

  "Are we all here, Billy?" the instructor called.

  "All here, sir," Billy Kasker answered.

  "Very well. Let's start to the museum. As we go through you may ask anyquestions you wish. However, I must insist you stay close to me and notwander from the group. We will be in no danger, you understand--thecreatures living in the museum have had their fangs pulled mosteffectively--but even so we must not take chances."

  The instructor led off. He was a fussy little person in a shiny blackcoat and a soft hat that was too big for him. No matter how much paperhe stuffed inside the brim, the hat never seemed to fit right. Peeringthrough glasses that were always threatening to fall off, he moved awayfrom the Star Institute toward the nearby museum. The class of eightgirls and nine boys followed him.

  "Why do we have to go through this old museum?" Joe Buckner complained."We already know everything about it."

  "It's the rule," Billy Kasker answered. "The faculty thinks we shouldsee the situation at first hand. Then we will have a betterunderstanding of it."

  Joe Buckner grunted disdainfully. "You're always sucking in with the bigshots and telling everybody what they say."

  "You asked me. I tried to tell you." Billy Kasker's voice was stillpleasant. If a slight glint appeared in his eyes, it remained there foronly a second.

  The museum was an open area many miles long. It was enclosed by a high,electrically charged fence along which guard towers were placed atregular intervals. There was only one gate, to which the instructor ledthe class. A captain, resplendent in a brilliant uniform, came out ofthe guard house to greet them.

  "The graduating class from the Star Institute, eh? Good. We had noticethat you were coming. Guard, bring Mr. Phipper a _Thor_ gun, then openthe gates." The last was spoken in a brisk tone to the guard who hadfollowed the captain.

  The _Thor_ gun was brought immediately. It was a small weapon, with abelt and holster. The captain took it from the holster. Watching, BillyKasker had the impression that the weapon was made of glittering, spunglass. It had a short, heavy barrel in which tiny instruments werevisible. Billy Kasker watched very closely.

  "Do you know how to use it?" the captain asked.

  "Oh, yes," the instructor answered.

  "Is it so dangerous in there that we need a _Thor_ gun?" Susan Sidwellsaid. Susan had majored in ionic chemistry and had graduated with highhonors.

  "No, it isn't dangerous at all," the instructor answered hastily. "Theweapon is worn merely for the sake of tradition."

  "No danger at all, young lady," the captain said. "Nothing to worryabout. Not while you've got this, anyhow." He patted the _Thor_ gunwhich the instructor was buckling to his waist.

  The gates were open. The instructor in the lead, the group passedthrough. Billy Kasker brought up the rear. Joe Buckner was directlyahead of him.

  They went first to see the wreckage of the city--shattered walls,tumbled buildings, streets with rubble still piled in them. Weeds andcreeping vines grew over the broken bones of this city as if they wereattempting to hide the ugly scars.

  The instructor adjusted his voice to the proper tone. He had made thissame speech to many graduating classes and he knew exactly what he wasgoing to say.

  "You understand, of course, that this part of the old city was almostcompletely destroyed in our attack of the year 4021 After Yevbro, or theyear 1967, according to the way the natives reckoned time on thisplanet. This part of it has been allowed to remain the way our shipsleft it, as an example of the effectiveness of our weapons."

  His voice gave the impression that he was personally participating inthat attack and was enjoying the destruction that had taken place. Hestood straight, squared his shoulders and breathed deeply.

  "What happened to the natives who lived here?" Billy Kasker asked.

  The instructor frowned. "Oh, they were killed." At first he was a littleirritated at the question, then again satisfaction came back into hisvoice.

  "They got what was coming to them for trying to resist our sky ships,"Joe Buckner said.

  "Oh, yes, they deserved their fate." The instructor hitched the _Thor_gun a little higher on his hip.

  Billy Kasker was silent.

  "We will go next to the fields, then to the factory section--such of asthere is--then to that part of the city which we have allowed thenatives to rebuild. Come."

  The class moved out of the city. Here they saw their first natives. Cladmostly in rags--many of them bent and stooped, some of them showing themarks of hunger--they were a quiet people who kept strictly out of theway of the class group. But except for the clothing and the marks ofhunger, they were identical in appearance with their conquerors.

  "Why, they look just like us!" Joe Buckner said indignantly. He soundedoutraged at the resemblance.

  "There are many differences," the instructor said quickly. "Note theirclothing, how poorly made it is. They make it themselves out of the woolof some kind of animal--deer, I believe, or bear."

  "Sheep," Billy Kasker corrected.

  "Oh, yes, sheep is the name of the animal. Thank you, Billy."

  "You're welcome, sir."

  "But they oughtn't to look like _us_!" Joe Buckner continued.

  "There are chemical differences," Susan Sidwell said. "Once, in thelaboratory, we analyzed their blood. The color was different for onething. They also have a much different metabolism."

  "But suppose one of them escaped from the museum and got into our partof the world. How would we know he wasn't one of us, if he put on ourclothes?" Joe Buckner sounded outraged.

  "That is one purpose our bracelets serve," the instructor answered. "Avery good question, Joe. As you know, each of us receives a bracelet atbirth, which is slipped over the hand and onto the wrist. Made of_plasticum_, which cannot be cut by any method, the bracelet has theunique property of expanding in size as the wearer grows. It cannot beremoved except by cutting
off the arm of the wearer." He laughed as ifhe had made a good joke. "But I am sure no one would ever think of doingthat. The bracelet carries the serial number assigned to each of us."

  He held up his arm, exhibiting the gleaming circle of _plasticum_ on hiswrist. To him--to all of them--it was a badge of honor, a mark thatproved one belonged to a superior race. "If one of the natives escaped,the absence of a bracelet would disclose his identity at once. We wouldtake measures to have him eliminated."

  "I see," Joe Buckner said. He sounded mollified. "How would we eliminatehim?"

  "I believe it is customary to use a _Thor_ gun in such cases--a largecaliber which will disintegrate him instantly. The model I have willonly blast a hole a few inches in diameter."

  "I'm going to be a _Thorgunman_," Joe Buckner said with suddenenthusiasm.

  "Good!" the instructor said. "That is a very fine calling. If I had mylife to live over again--" He sighed for lost opportunities.

  At the announcement of his ambition, Joe Buckner rose higher in theopinion of the class.

  "Observe how they make their living," the instructor continued.

  The class saw the natives at work tilling the soil. The technique usedhere was very crude but mildly interesting. They used plows and harrowsfor loosening the soil, devices that were pulled by large animals.

  "_Horses_, I believe they call the animals. Of course, we don't allowthem to have power-drawn equipment."

  "It's not at all like the way we obtain our food," Billy Kasker saidthoughtfully.

  "Oh, no," the instructor answered. "We synthesize our foods. As a matterof fact, they are _required_ to grow their food. That way, they have tospend so much time finding something to eat that they can't causetrouble." He grinned as if something in the idea pleased him.

  "Serves them right," Joe Buckner said.

  The natives working in the fields seemed not to see the class. When thegroup came near, they stopped talking and worked harder.

  "Scared to talk when we're around," Joe Buckner said. "They're yellow!"

  "Now for the factory section," the instructor said.

  The factories were small and unimpressive. Working here with very crudetools and with no power equipment, the natives were making farmmachinery.

  "Why don't we give them better tools?" Billy Kasker asked.

  "What have they got coming?" Joe Buckner exclaimed. "They lost, didn'tthey?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "If you had your way you'd be sucking in and helping the side that lost.Pretty soon you'd discover _you_ had lost!"

  "Hardly that," Billy Kasker replied. "But it seems more human--"

  "_Human?_ That's a laugh!" Joe Buckner slapped his thighs and roaredwith laughter.

  "Come along," the instructor said.

  "Look--there are children playing games!" Susan Sidwell observed."Horrible-looking little brats, aren't they?" She pointed to a group ofbrown-skinned youngsters playing some kind of a game that involved aball and a club. One threw the ball, the second struck at it with theclub.

  "What a stupid way to play," Joe Buckner said.

  * * * * *

  As soon as the young natives saw the graduating group coming, theystopped their game and ran away. They seemed very frightened.

  "The young ones fear us," the instructor explained. "The older ones fearus too, but they don't show it so much." He watched the fleeingyoungsters with every evidence of great inward satisfaction.

  Billy Kasker's lips closed in a thin straight line.

  "Now we will go to the rebuilt section."

  They walked on.

  "One of the natives is following us," Susan Sidwell suddenly said.

  Turning, the group saw that a member of the conquered race was comingalong the street behind them. He was dressed all in brown--his hat, hisshirt, his pants.

  The instructor put his hand on the butt of the _Thor_ gun.

  The native walked past the group without seeming to see it. He waswhistling between his teeth. He walked on ahead of them, turned down analley, and disappeared. The instructor took his hand off the _Thor_ gun.

  "He wasn't really following us; he wouldn't dare. Does anybody have anyquestions?" He looked brightly around the group.

  "Yes, I have," Joe Buckner said. "Why don't we just kill all of thesenatives? They're not any good to us."

  The instructor smiled slyly. "I'll tell you a little secret about that.It's awfully hard to kill _all_ of any race. No matter how thoroughlyyou do the job, a few always manage to escape. Then they breed andincrease in spite of everything you do.

  "After we had conquered this planet we had trouble catching all of thenatives. They were the most cantankerous, persistent race you canimagine. So these museums were set up, to lure them in here. Weannounced that these places would be set aside and that they would notbe bothered as long as they remained in the museums. All in all, we madethe museums rather attractive places, hoping that--"

  "I see the plan!" Joe Buckner said glowingly. "After you got them allinto the museums--_blooie!_--knock all of them off at once!"

  The instructor smiled. He looked as pleased as if he had thought of theidea himself. A little stir of applause ran through the group as theyexpressed their gratitude to their rulers for making this world safe forthem.

  "Why haven't they been killed before now?" Billy Kasker asked. "Thesemuseums were opened over forty years ago. Surely--"

  "I don't know about that," the instructor answered. "I think probablyour rulers are waiting for a propitious time, or perhaps for an incidentthat will give them an excuse to carry out their plan."

  "I hope they don't wait too long," Joe Buckner said. "Golly, I want tobe a _Thorgunner_ and get in on the mop-up when it comes!"

  The group stirred, seemed to look forward to the day of the finalslaughter.

  "Any other questions?" the instructor asked.

  "I have one," Billy Kasker said hesitantly. "It doesn't exactly haveanything to do with our trip through the museum--it's something I ranacross in a book--but I don't quite understand it, and I wondered--"

  "Go right ahead, Billy. What do you have on your mind?"

  "Well, ah, did--did you ever hear of a _changeling_? I know it's a kindof a silly question but--"

  "A _changeling_?" The instructor frowned.

  "I think it comes out of a fairy story or something like that," BillyKasker said.

  "Oh, yes. Now I recall the word." The instructor's face lighted. "It's astory about the fairies taking one child from its crib and substitutinganother for it. The substituted child was called a _changeling_. Orperhaps some poor mother, wishing to give her child a better chance,stole the child of a rich mother and put her child in its place. Ireally don't remember too much about it."

  "Thank you, sir. You have explained it very lucidly."

  The instructor beamed.

  Joe Buckner sniffed. "Asking a question, then telling the instructor hehas explained it very clearly when you didn't even ask a sensiblequestion in the first place--that's what I call sucking in! Who everheard of a _changeling_?"

  The group moved on. They came to the section of the city that had beenrepaired. The streets had been cleared of the rubble, houses had beenrebuilt, and here and there little touches of green grass showed wherean attempt to add a touch of beauty had been made.

  They saw very few of the natives. Far ahead of them they occasionallyglimpsed a native slipping furtively out of the way. Behind them, alwaysat a distance, heads occasionally poked around corners at them.

  "They're very cowardly," the instructor said.

  "Where's Billy Kasker?" Susan Sidwell suddenly asked.

  The group halted. Billy Kasker was no longer following them. A littlestir of consternation ran through them as they realized the classpresident was missing.

  "Billy! Billy!" the instructor called.

  There was no answer.

  "I just don't understand this. He knows he should remain with us."

  "Maybe s
ome of these horrible natives grabbed him!" Susan Sidwell said.The group was startled--and suddenly afraid.

  * * * * *

  The instructor took a deep breath. "I have a _Thor_ gun. I'll go findhim. Joe, you are in charge of the group until I return. All of youremain in the middle of the street and don't move."

  The instructor went back along the street. He was exasperated and alittle alarmed. If anything happened to Billy, how could he explain thematter to the gate captain or to Billy's parents?

  "Billy!" he called again and again.

  Suddenly he had an answer from an alley.

  "Here, sir--here I am. Are you looking for me? I'm sorry, sir." Billyhimself appeared in the alley.

  Reassured at the sight of the youth, but angry, the instructor movedinto the alley. "What is the meaning of this? You have alarmed all ofus."

  "I'm awfully sorry, sir. But I saw something back here that interestedme, and I stopped to take a look. I hope you will forgive me." Hismanner was so contrite and his chagrin so complete that the instructorhad no choice but to forgive him.

  "Of course, Billy. But you mustn't do anything like this again. It mightbe dangerous."

  "I won't, sir. I promise. But I wonder, since you are