Earthsmith, Page 3

yes, they ate, but he wasn't very hungry now. As a matter offact, he was ravenously hungry, but he did not relish the idea of goingto some public eating place either with Jorak or alone. His heart beganto beat a little faster when he thought that he might meet Geria if hedid, but then he felt the heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks.He'd hardly know what to say to her, and besides, he knew there wassomething he should remember but couldn't quite. No, he'd skip dinnerthis first day at the school.

  Now he watched Jorak open the door and step into the hallway, and for amoment he heard gay voices and the shuffling of many feet, and Jorak'svoice louder than the rest: "Kard of Shilon! How long has it been? I canremember that day near Raginsdild...."

  Smith turned to the window, and for a long time he sat watching the fatred sun.

  * * * * *

  He got up early and he showered, and then he heard a clicking sound. Twocards had been deposited in a tray from a slot in the wall. At the topof one were the words "Jorak of Gyra," and Smith's name and planet wereprinted on the other. He picked it up and began to read, and then Joraksat up and took the other card.

  "Programs," said Jorak. "Everyone takes transtellar history, of course,and a section or two in the humanities. My electives are Wortan fightingand dream-empathy."

  Smith smiled. "Me too--same program. I suppose we'll be in classtogether, Jorak."

  "Rather stupid," the purple man observed. "They've given you adominant's program. But then, I remember you questioned your receptiveclassification, and the registrar's known to do this on occasion, justto put you in your place. You'll be in Garlonian dancing in a few days,Earthsmith."

  "Well, I sure hope not. I didn't come here to learn how to dance--"

  "Hah! So what? If you're an R you'll learn how to dance and like it.Cook, too. There's no such thing as a misfit at the school, notpermanently. They'll find you out soon enough, Earthsmith. Hmmm, waittill Kard of Shilon finds out what they've put in Wortan. Kard's top manin his sector, and it's just possible they'll pair you off with him.

  "Well, you going to eat this morning? I'd hate to see you in Wortanwithout a good meal in you. But I suppose it really wouldn't help,anyway. Coming, Earthsmith?"

  There weren't any people out in the hall this early, and Smith breathedmore easily when they moved in a direction opposite that of Geria'sroom. Soon they had descended a score of levels, and the moving rampbecame more crowded. Smith tried to ignore the eager hum ofconversation, but it was all around him. He realized he should befeeling that way too. But you couldn't drum up a student's eagerappetite within yourself, not when you didn't feel that way, not whenyour entire planet waited to see how you made out here and you feltunsure of yourself, even in such simple things as eating.

  That part of it at least turned out better than Smith had hoped. Therewere eggs, and while he was sure he would not recognize the fowl if hesaw it, he could at least order his over-light and get somethingfamiliar. And there were long strips of fatty meat which almost couldhave been bacon, except Smith was sure the pig wouldn't be a pig at all.

  And Smith was lost in the hordes of white men, green men, purple, orangeand brown, and no one paid him too much attention. Jorak busied himselfremembering old times with a gruff burly orange man named Kard, whoseplanet was Shilon, and Smith ate in silence. Once he thought he sawGeria far off at another table, but it could have been his imagination,and when he looked again she was gone.

  Home, Smith always had been a quick eater, but now he found himselfpawing at his food. Soon the great dining room began to clear. Jorak andKard leaned back in their chairs, watching Smith.

  Jorak yawned. "How long does it take you to breakfast?"

  "Different rate of digestion on Earth," Kard suggested.

  "Don't be foolish. Earthsmith's in no hurry to attend his first class,so he's loafing. Right, Earthsmith?"

  Smith mumbled something about unfamiliar food under his breath, andJorak said, "Well, no matter. We'll give you another moment or two,Earthsmith. Then we'll have to be going. We all three have transtellarhistory, you know."

  Smith knew it all too well. Gyra and Bortinot and Shilon were so manynames to him and he silently cursed Earth's provincial histories. Forthose here at the school, the three names and a hundred others might bemagical stepping stones to the culture, the lore, the history of agalaxy--but all Smith knew now was that Jorak came from Gyra, and sosome of Gyra's people at least must be purple, that Geria came fromBortinot where the women were D and the men were R and where the womenlooked like those of Earth, that Kard, finally, came from a place thatbore the name Shilon, where some of the men at least were orange. ButShilon could have been anyplace from the hub to the fringe, Gyra mightswim dizzily out near Ophiuchus or it might be the new culture name forone of Earth's near neighbors. And Bortinot--he wished he knew moreabout Bortinot.

  * * * * *

  The instructor of transtellar history was a little fat man with a roundgold face and green eyes that blinked too much. He wore the tight blackuniform of the instructor and his green armband proclaimed his subjectto be history. He smiled too much, too vacantly, as if he had beenpracticing it a long time and now forgot what it really meant.

  "Greetings!" he cried jovially, after everyone had been seated on thelong low benches around the room. "I bring you history. No one is totalk unless I tell him to. Everyone is to listen unless I tell him notto. Clear?" He smiled.

  No one said anything.

  "Excellent. History encompasses thousands of years and countless cubicparsecs. Only the big things count. We will forget the little things.Little things belong to little people and we of the school are the eliteof a transtellar culture. Questions?"

  There were none.

  "Good, because I have some. What would you say was the first event ofimportance? Luog of Panden, talk."

  Said green-skinned Luog, a very young Pandenian: "You mean ever?"

  "I would have specified had I meant otherwise. Yes, ever. Talk, Luog ofPanden."

  "Well--"

  "Halt a moment, please. Who thinks the question is a relative one whichcannot properly be answered? I clair it is Brandog of Hulpin."

  An albino woman three seats down from Smith flushed. "I am sorry," shesaid.

  "Who told you to talk now? This is not Hulpin, Brandog. The course isintensive. You must concentrate. Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.No extraneous thoughts." The instructor smiled. "Luog of Panden, talk."

  Smith felt the little beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Theinstructor could read minds--and how many of these others could? Theyjust sat there as if it were the most natural thing in the world....

  Only Brandog of Hulpin seemed ruffled, and it would be many momentsbefore her albino skin looked again like soft alabaster. But no oneseemed to notice. Luog was saying, "--exodus from the prehistoric Sirianworlds to the first culture in the Denebian system, the Var one. Morethan ten thousand Vars ago."

  "Satisfactory for a Receptive, Luog of Panden," the instructor smiled."The Dominants would go back a bit further and talk of the Sirian wars,but that much is a matter of opinion, since the wars are largelymythical, anyway. And so we have set the stage for history. We have--"

  * * * * *

  Smith wanted to get up indignantly and tell the instructor, tell themall, what the most glorious epochs of history really were. You wouldfind it in the museums of earth, on the plaques and in the statues andon the old old records of Earth. There was a lot Smith wanted to tellthem because there was so much only he could tell them, so much they hadforgotten.

  But he merely sat and stared politely at the black-uniformed instructor.You don't show yourself as a provincial--what was the word?--rube, notwhen your culture, while temporarily the oldest, is in a lot of ways themost neophite of them all.

  You just sat and stared, looking interested.

  The instructor's voice cut into his thoughts, "Earth of Smith--"

  "Smith of E
arth," he said, automatically.

  "I did not tell you to talk, Smith of Earth. And if your card says Earthof Smith, how am I to know? A mistake, yes--but an understandable one.I'm a historian, and I have heard of neither planet. Where is thisEarth? Talk, Smith!"

  He stood up, although it wasn't really necessary, and he could feel hisknees trembling slightly. "Earth is a few parsecs from Sirius, andSirius I think you know."

  "I know Sirius. Now talk!"

  "What is it you want me to say? I don't feel much like talking--"

  "Yet you speak so loud that the room fairly rocks with it. I wanted youto tell us why you did not agree with the answer