And The Walls Came Tumbling Down Read online

  Report No. 2. All states and posi­tions: No change. Redoubt com­pleted. No con­firmed contact yet with intelli­gent forms.

  Dear Zenn. Soon after the third rising of Sol enabled us to set the furnace-lenses to work again we pro­duced enough boltik to finish our redoubt. The last block was fused into place half­way through the diur­nal period, which is very short here. I am relieved that it has been com­pleted without inter­rup­tion. Now that we and our craft have this pro­tec­tion we can face the future with more confi­dence.

  Podas and Eptus have examined more speci­mens. These confirm their earlier views but add little. So far we have not made contact with an intelli­gence here. After our earlier experiences we are not seek­ing it out but are wait­ing for it to come to us.

  As a quali­fication I should add that Podas thinks we almost contacted an intelli­gence during the fourth Sol and still may do so. Eptus, how­ever, dis­agrees with him and on the face of it one would say Eptus was right. What hap-pened was this.

  About the middle of the fourth Sol a cloud of dust was seem to the east of us above the long mark referred to in my last. It was soon evident that the creature res­ponsible for the dust was travelling along this mark to­wards us.

  We observed it with increasing amaze­ment because it was clearly to be seen that this creature supported itself upon four disks. Its body was black and shining; at the front were metal appen­dages which shone like silver.

  It moved at a moderate speed but clearly with dis­com­fort since its disk supports trans­mitted the result of every in­equality of the ground sur­face to its car­cass. Eptus deduces from this that it evolved upon some level sur­face, possibly ice, and is ill adapted to this district.

  That its intention was hostile there could be no doubt for it projected strongly against us. Luckily it was either ill-informed regarding us or was not capable of serious attack, for it operated upon a quite harm­less range. Out of interest we let it come quite close before we turned the beam on it.

  When we did we saw with astonish­ment — and I must admit some con­ster­nation — that noth­ing what­ever resulted. We watched it with growing anxiety as it came on, still keeping close to the line. Two more beams were turned on to it, still with­out effect.

  Podas said, “I don't think it can be sentient. It is coming as if we weren't here at all.” And indeed it was.

  In spite of our defences it conti­nued to come until, with­out slacken­ing speed in the least, it ran right into the side of the redoubt where the front of it was crushed and some pieces fell off.

  We waited some moments, and then when it did not stir again, we left the redoubt to exa­mine it. It appeared to be a com­posite creature. One part had become detached and projected for­ward against the wall by the sudden stop.

  This we found to bear a generic resem­blance to the cyl­inder spoken of in my last report but was unlike it in that it was covered with detach­able tegu­ments. Its forward blunt pro­jec­tion had encountered the side of the redoubt with some force. Possibly this was the cause of its de­ani­ma­tion.

  Podas, investi­gating, found a smaller creature inside the body of the disked creature and un­attached to it. Possibly this is some singular form of par­turi­tion natural to this planet. I could not say. It is hard enough in this crazy place to hang on to one's reason, let alone try to apply it to the utterly un­reason­able.

  Against the idea is the fact that neither of the smaller creatures showed any vestige of disks. Also both of these were covered in tegu­ments which can scarcely be natural — especially in the case of the latter creature, where the tegu­ment seemed designed with the purpose of hamp­ering the hinder limbs — though it may have some other purpose un-guessed.

  The two creatures were brought into the redoubt for closer exami­nation. The parent or host — for Frinctus has put forward the theory that the two we have may be para­sitic upon it — creature was left out­side on account of its size.

  More careful exami­nation showed that our two new specimens were not iden­tical though the differ­ences are of no great impor­tance. The short­ness of the fibres on the blunt pro­jec­tion of one com­pared with those on the other could easily be due to some kind of acci­dent, for instance.

  Podas, who set about opening up the revoltingly squashy body of our first find with scien­tific lack of dis­gust that I can only envy, reports that its inter­nal arrange­ments, while quite in­com­pre­hen­sible to him, are on the same general lines as those of the small cylin­dri­cal creature referred to in my last.

  Eptus is anxious to open the other for con­fir­ma­tion but Podas is against it. He says that we shall learn nothing more from it than from the other and that further­more it is not entirely inactive. It inflates and deflates in a most curious rhythmic manner which interests him. As it is Podas' depart­ment, the matter rests there for the moment.

  Meanwhile, Orkiss, our chief mathe­ma­tician, who had out of curiosity been exam­in­ing the supposed parent creature out­side, returned to say that in his opinion it is not a creature at all but an arti­fact. Podas went back with Mm to look at it again and now concurs. Eptus reserves his opinion.

  Podas has also tentatively suggested that our second specimen — the one with its nether limbs webbed by the odd tegu­ment — may possibly be the vessel for an intelligence of some sort, since it was inside the arti­fact. To his Eptus objects strongly.

  How, he asks, can any form of intelli­gence recog­niz­able as such be expected from a sloppy collec­tion of in­num­er­able tubes slung on a hardened lime frame­work? Further, says he, reason pre­supposes at least the ability to compre­hend a straight line. This type of creature has not a straight line in its make-up.

  It is pudgy and squashy and would be almost amor­phous but for its frame­work. Clearly it is not of a nature that could compre­hend a straight line — and if it cannot do that it follows that it can­not be capable of mathe­matical nor, there­fore, logical think­ing. Which, I must say, sounds to me a very reason­able argu­ment.

  Podus replies that there are certainly straight lines in the construction of the arti­fact out­side. Eptus says, if it is an arti­fact. Podas main­tains that it defin­itely is an arti­fact and the exis­tence of a creature which is just a sack full of tubes is riot reason­able in itself, let alone that it should generate reason.

  And that, for the moment, is how things stand.

  Report No. 3. All states and posi­tions (except casualty) —No change. Casualty — one lost.

  Little progress to report. One intel­ligent being of a kind has been dis­covered. Contact with it is not yet established. The term ‘intelligent’ is here to be under­stood tech­ni­cally as being the power to influence reflexes to some extent.

  Both ratio­cination and percep­tion are so restricted in the speci­men observed as to make it appear un­likely that this can be the most advanced form here. The crea­ture is hostile and has caused one casualty — Althis, engineer. Contact with more intelligent forms is still awaited.

  Dear Zenn. Too much of the good things of life presents almost as many problems as too little. The temp­ta­tion of such a wealth of easily assim­il­able silicates has proved too much for several of our party. A dozen have succumbed to it and indulged in what can only be described as an orgy of gor­man­dizing a little west of our posi­tion.

  When discovered, they had already created a pit of some size and had increased them­selves beyond possi­bility of their re-entering the redoubt. So there they will have to stay and take their chance. I drew the atten­tion of the rest to the result of such in­temper­ance with, I hope, salutary effect. We shall see.

  Meanwhile Podas has turned out to be astonish­ingly justi­fied in some of his deduc­tions. Eptus is a trifle piqued about this and doggedly insists upon apply­ing reason in what seems to me — and to Podas — an un­reason­able way.

  As I pointed out to him, this is by no means a reason­able planet. After what we have seen
of it I, for one, would be by no means surprised to find that two and two make seven by the local rules. To this Eptus obsti­nately asserts that reason is absolute and uni­versal and there­fore must hold good on even the craziest planet. All I can say to that is that it just doesn't look that way from here.

  Podas' second specimen — the one taken from the disked artifact — after lying for some time doing nothing percep­tible beyond expan­sion and con­trac­tion, then began for no dis­cover­able reason to show signs of re-ani­ma­tion. It moved a little.

  Then we observed that small flaps in the tegu­ment —the permanent, not the dis­pens­able tegu­ment — covering the blunt projec­tion were drawn back, un­cover­ing a kind of lenses made, seemingly, of liquid. For a short while no more happened. But it was then that we realized that it did have intelli­gence of a kind.

  We could feel its mind, which had apparently been absent or in some way diffused before, coales­cing into some sort of form. Quite suddenly it raised its cylin­dri­cal main mass to the verti­cal on the rounded lower end — where, in this species, there is no tapered projec­tion.

  Immediate reflex concern filled its mind at the absence of the detach­able tegu­ments Podas had removed when exam­in­ing it. This concern, how­ever, was quickly replaced by another — an urgent fear of falling. It turned its lenses down­ward. There was imme­diate chaos in its mind but the domi­nant question seemed to be — why did it not drop to the ground some little dis­tance beneath?

  Well, why should it? It was supported on a solid block of boltik, which in turn rested on the solid boltik floor. This it presently dis­covered for itself by sliding one of its slender upper pro­jec­tions over the sur­face. At this its con­fusion grew rather than diminished.

  Then we made the surprising discovery that its lenses were ex­tra­ordi­narily defec­tive. Their range was so limited that they were quite in­sen­si­tive not only to boltik but to all our other materials, inclu­ding our­selves! It had no means of detecting them or us except by touch.

  Consequently, what it was now asking itself was how it came to be sus­pended above the ground in the middle of a desert. It gave a long look at the damaged arti­fact out­side.

  It took hold of a part of itself, apparently with the inten­tion of proving its own exis­tence to itself.

  Hostility is evidently instinc­tive to this species. Its weapon is concealed some­where within it and is projected from an ori­fice a little below the lenses. It takes the form of a slot or a rough circle accord­ing to the force employed. It began to use it now, fortu­nately on a low power and register which caused us no more than a slight dis­com­fort.

  It moved one of its lower pro­jec­tions and found the edge of the block. Thence it felt down­ward to the floor. Assured by touch that that existed it put down the match­ing pro­jec­tion — but instead of bring down the other pair of pro­jec­tions, it remained balanced upon two!

  At this point Eptus com­plained that he must be suffer­ing from hallu­ci­na­tions. The creature was so mani­festly top-heavy that it was against reason for it to remain stable in the posi­tion in which he now saw it.

  We agreed in principle, but pointed out that we were seeing the same thing, so that we must accept its reality in spite of reason. Eptus declared that Podas must have over­looked a gyroscope some­where in the tangle of tubes.

  The creature remained vertical but station­ary for a moment. It then began to make its way, by an ungainly swaying of its weight from one pro­jection to the other, towards the disked arti­fact.

  Not being able to perceive the wall of the redoubt it encountered it some­what suddenly and with natural surprise. It continued its mani­fes­ta­tions of hos­tility as it felt about the boltik sur­face in bewilder­ment. Then, dis­couraged, it turned back.

  It was at that moment that it saw for the first time the other speci­men which Podas' inves­tiga­tions had reduced to a rather disorderly condi­tion.

  It stopped. Its lenses widened. The slot below them also widened. In that instant we learned how terrible the attack of these creatures can be. Although it could not see us it must have sensed in some way that we were there — we could feel its aware­ness of danger — so it gave its weapon full power.

  By misfortune, I think, rather than by design, it had the range of one of us exactly. Poor Althis, the engi­neer, was shattered in a twinkling and fell in a pile of dust. Simul­taneously a fissure occurred in one of the interior walls of the redoubt.

  Luckily the sharp report of Althis' dis­inte­gration startled the creature. It ceased the attack momen­tarily and stood looking round to see whence the sound had come. Before it could renew its attack we took action, holding the creature in such a way that it could not use its weapon.

  Podas, with great presence of mind, cast a shape of boltik and cooled it — for we have found that the sub­stance of these creatures cal­cines at quite low tem­pe­ra­tures — and then fitted it to the creature in such a way that it could not open its slot and was thus virtually dis­armed.

  It is true that this did not pacify it, for it con­tinued to attempt to use its weapon, but its power was reduced to mere nuisance value. When we released it, it struck at us with its upper projections although it could not see us.

  In doing so it cut its soft tegu­ment on Eptus and left a smear of its red liquid upon him. The sight of this moving as he moved seemed to worry it a great deal. Find­ing that its soft members suffered in this way when they encountered us, it desisted and turned its atten­tion to trying to rid itself of Podus' frame in order to attack us again.

  This was, of course, far beyond its feeble power and in a short time it began to feel its way round the interior of the redoubts, apparently seeking for a way out and still making suppressed attempts to use its weapon.

  It seemed also to have damaged its lenses in some way, for liquid from them was run­ning down towards its slot. Its mind was so confused and disturbed that such thought processes as we could discern were by no means rational.

  This was still going on when the approach of another disked arti­fact similar to the first was reported. It held to the mark in the same way but when it reached a point close behind the other it stopped. A part of it opened and a crea­ture similar to our first speci­men (i.e. the bifurcated, not the webbed type) emerged. It looked at the first arti­fact with obvious curiosity and peered within it.

  Meanwhile, our speci­men within the redoubt had also noticed the creature's approach. It tried to move to­wards it but was, of course, held back by the redoubt wall. It stood there, obviously trying to bring its weapon into use against one of its own kind, which puzzled us very much.

  Presently the creature out­side looked up and saw the one inside. For a moment we expected an attack. Its lenses widened quite remarkably, its slot dropped wide open — but oddly enough nothing came from it imme­diately. When it did it was sur­prisingly weak and harm­less.

  “We should catch it before it attacks,” Eptus advised.

  “It may not attack — unless we give it reason,” Podas replied.

  “Reason — bah!” said Eptus, irritably.

  A sudden confusion came over our speci­men. It picked up a piece of the tegu­ment which Podas had removed and held it against itself.

  The creature outside cleared its mind some­what and began to project thoughts at the other. We found that when it made this direct form of address we could follow it con­cisely.

  It said, “What a shame you're not real, honey. If mirages are like this, I've wasted my time on bathing beaches.”

  Why it said this we do not under­stand. But we observed the very curious fact that though its mind was by no means hostile it was making low-power aggression with its slot. We also observed that our speci­men did not receive the message. It was, in fact, simul­taneously putting out a confused plea for help which the other was not receiving — or was only faintly aware of.

  “This is curious indeed,” said Podas. “There seem
s to be no com­pre­hen­sion between the two — and ours is struggling hard to use its weapon, yet with no aggres­sive intent in its mind. Is it possible that these weapons have the secondary purpose of com­mu­ni­ca­tion?”

  “In this place any­thing is possible and every­thing is unlikely,” said Eptus. “I have reached the state where I am prepared to believe that they normally com­mu­ni­cate by batter­ing one another to death if you claim that it is so.”

  The creature outside approached and encountered the wall of the redoubt. It rubbed the part of itself that had made contact, and exploded the wall with both upper pro­jec­tions. Its mind was full of astonish­ment.

  Meanwhile the creature inside appeared to be trying to push itself through the wall. Finding that futile, it started to make signs with its pro­jections. It indicated itself, the arti­fact and the first speci­men.

  When the outside creature saw the first speci­men, which, as I have said Podas had left in a very untidy state, its mind hardened remark­ably. It stepped back, and took some­thing out of a slit in its tegu­ment. It extended this object towards the redoubt. There was a crack — not dissimilar to the sound of a person dis­inte­grating and there­fore on a harm­less range.

  Something hit the wall and fell. The creature moved forward and picked up a round flat splash of metal. One could sense that it was extremely puzzled. Then it put its projec­tions against the wall and felt care­fully all the way along the rock on one side to that on the other.

  It was dismayed. It shifted the tegu­ment on its blunt projection and tried to aid its thoughts by stimu­lating the surface exposed. It went back to its arti­fact and returned hold­ing a squat cylinder. This proved to contain a black viscous sub­stance which it daubed on our wall. The marks are still there. From our side they appear so:

  WAIT! I'LL BE BACK.