Earthsmith

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  EARTHSMITH

  By Milton Lesser

  [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories ofScience and Fantasy January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover anyevidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: Nobody at the Interstellar Space School had ever heard ofEarth so naturally they treated Smith with contempt--or was it an innatefear?...]

  Someone in the crowd tittered when the big ungainly creature reached thehead of the line.

  "Name?"

  The creature swayed back and forth foolishly, supporting the bulk of hisweight first on one extremity and then on the other. His face which hada slight rosy tint anyway got redder.

  "Come, come. Planet? Name?" The registrar was only a machine, but theregistrar could assume an air of feminine petulance. "We want to keepthe line moving, so if you will please--"

  The creature drew a deep breath and let the two words come out in arush. "Earth, Smith," he said. Being nervous, he could not modulate hisvoice. Unable to modulate his voice, he heard the words come out toodeep, too loud.

  "Did you hear that voice?" demanded the man who had tittered. "On a coldwet night they say the karami of Caulo boom like that. And look atEarthsmith. Just look at him. I ask you, what can they accept at theschool and still call it a school? Hey you, Earthsmith, what courseswill you take?"

  "I don't know," the creature confessed. "That's what I'm here for. Idon't even know what they teach at the school."

  "He doesn't know." More tittering.

  The registrar took all this in impassively, said: "What planet,Earthsmith?"

  The creature was still uncomfortable. "Earth. Only my name is notEarthsmith. Smith--"

  The titterer broke into a loud guffaw. "Earthsmith doesn't even knowwhat planet he's from. Good old Earthsmith." He was a small thin man,this titterer, with too-bright eyes, vaguely purple skin, and awell-greased shock of stiff green hair.

  Smith squared his wide shoulders and looked into the colored lights ofthe registrar. "It's a mistake. My name is Smith."

  "What planet, Smith?"

  "Earth. The planet Earth." Smith had a rosy, glistening bald head and ahairless face. A little bead of sweat rolled into his left eye and madehim blink. He rubbed his eye.

  "Age?" The machine had a way of asking questions suddenly, and Smithjust stared.

  "Tell me your age. Age. How old are you?"

  Smith wanted to sit down, only there were no chairs. Just the room withits long line of people behind him, and the machine up front. Theregistrar.

  "I'm twenty-seven."

  "Twenty-seven what?"

  "You asked me my age. I'm twenty-seven years old, and three months."

  Except for the clicking of the machine, there was a silence. The voiceof the machine, feminine again, seemed confused when it spoke. "I cannotcorrelate years, Smith of Earth. How old are you?"

  It wasn't an ordeal, really, but Smith felt more uncomfortable everymoment. Was the machine making fun of him? If it were, then it had anally in the crowd, because the man who had tittered was laughing again,the green shock of hair on his head bobbing up and down.

  "Earthsmith doesn't even know how old he is. Imagine."

  The machine, which was more feminine than not, asked Smith how far theplanet Earth was from its primary, and what the orbital speed of theplanet was. Smith told her, but again the terminology was not capable ofcorrelation.

  "Unclassified as to age, Smith. It's not important. I wonder, are youdominant or receptive?"

  "I'm a man. Male. Dom--"

  "That doesn't matter. Smith, tell me, how long has it been since anyonefrom the planet Earth has attended the school?"

  Smith said he didn't know, but, to his knowledge, no one from Earth hadever been here. "We don't get around much any more. It's not that wecan't. We just go and then we don't like it, so we come back to Earth."

  "Well, from the looks of you I would say you are a receptive. Verydefinitely receptive, Smith." Given sufficient data, the registrar couldnot be wrong. Given sufficient data the registrar could tell youanything you wanted to know, provided the answer could be arrived atfrom the data itself. "The male and female distinction no longer holds,of course. On some planets the female is dominant, on some she's not.It's generally according to the time of colonization, Smith. When wasEarth colonized?"

  "It wasn't."

  "What do you mean, it wasn't?"

  "We were always there. We colonized the rest of the galaxy. Long ago."

  The registrar clicked furiously, expressed itself still more femininelythis time. "Oh, that planet! You certainly are the first, Smith. Thevery first here at the school. Room 4027, dominant companion." Neutervoice again. "That's all, Smith of Earth. Next."

  The vaguely purple-skinned man stood before the registrar, winked at theflashing lights. "You know, now I can see what they mean when we're toldof a missing link in the chain between man and animal. OldEarthsmith...."

  "Name?" said the machine.

  The man pointed at Smith, shook with silent laughter. The back ofSmith's head, which could not properly be called bald because he hadnever had any hair on it, was very red.

  "Name's Jorak."

  "Planet?" demanded the fully neuter machine.

  * * * * *

  There was the red star, a monstrous blotch of crimson swollen andbrooding on the horizon and filling a quarter of the sky. There was thefleck of white high up near the top of the red giant, its white-dwarfcompanion in transit. These were the high jagged crags, falling offsuddenly to the sundered, frothy sea with its blood-red sun-track fadingto pink and finally to gray far away on either side.

  Smith watched the waves break far below him, and he almost stumbled whensomeone tapped his shoulder.

  "That was mean of the man named Jorak." She might have been a woman ofEarth, except that she was too thin, cast in a too-delicate mould. Yetbeautiful.

  Smith shrugged, felt the heat rise to his face and knew that he musthave looked like a mirror for the red sun.

  "Is that really a blush, Smith? Are you blushing?"

  He nodded. "I can't help it. I--"

  "Don't be foolish. I don't want you to stop. I think it looks nice."

  Smith rubbed his pate, watched the hot wind blow the girl's yellow hairabout her face. "They tell me my great great grandfather had a littlefringe of hair around his head. I've seen pictures."

  "How nice--"

  "If you're trying to make fun of me, please go away. It wasn't nice, itwas ugly. Either you have hair or you don't. The men of Earth used tohave it, long ago. The women still do."

  She changed the subject. "I'll bet you think this place is ugly, Smith."

  Smith shook his head. "No, it's stark. If you like things that way, itisn't really ugly. But Earth is a planet of green rolling hills and softrains and--you're making fun of me."

  "You say that again and I'll take it as an insult." She smiled. "We haveour green rolling hills on Bortinot, only it's cold. I like it herebecause it's warm. And, of course, I have a lot to learn at school."

  "Would you think I'm stupid if I ask you what?"

  "No. And you were really serious in there when you said you didn't knowwhat they teach."

  "How could I know? I'm the first student here from Earth. Every fiveyears--say, twenty times during the course of one lifetime--we get theapplication. This time the government finally decided someone should go.Me."

  "Well, they teach just about everything that could be of value in atranstellar culture."

  "What?"

  "Things like ast
rogation and ethics--"

  "I caught the school express at a Denebian planet. Someone told me therethat the school is decadent."

  She smiled up at him. "Deneb is a slothful place, then. It is true thatthe school never stands still, changing its courses to meet the demandsof a changing society. If Deneb cannot keep pace with the changes, thatcould explain the feeling. Right now they'll be concentrating in dreamsand dream-empathy, in some of the newer Garlonian dances, Sarchiancooking for the receptives and Wortan fighting for the dominants. Quitea virile program, Smith, provided