He had spoken to Charalas, to the nurses, to the groundkeepers, and to
the scientists who came to learn of him and from him. He had told them
of Terra and of the Solar System. He had explained the other worlds in
detail and his own interpretation of those other cultures.
And still they depicted Terra in no central light. Terra did not
dominate the panel. It vied with the other nine planets and their
satellites for the prominence it should have held.
What was wrong?
Knowing that he would have favored Ertene for the anatomical reasons
alone, Guy worried. Had his word-picture been so poor that Ertene gave
the other planets their place in the panel in spite of the natural
longing to place their own kind above the rest?
"I should think--" he started haltingly, but Charalas stopped him.
"Guy Maynard, you must understand that Ertene is neutral. Perhaps the
first neutral you've ever seen. Believe that, Guy, and be warned that
Ertene is capable of making her own, very discerning decision."
Guy did not answer. He knew something else, now. Ertene was not going
to be easily convinced that Sol was the place for them. She was
neutral, yes, but there was something else.
Ertene had the wanderlust!
For eons, Ertene had passed in her unseen way through the galaxy. She
had seen system after system, and the lust for travel was upon her.
Travel was her life, and had been for hundreds of generations.
Her children had been born and bred in a closed system, free from
stellar bonds. Their history was a vast storehouse of experience such
as no other planet had ever had. Every generation brought them to
another star and each succeeding generation added to the wisdom of
Ertene as it extracted or tried to extract some bit of knowledge from
each system through which Ertene passed.
With travel her natural life, the wandering planet would be loath to
cease her transient existence.
Like a man who has spent too many years in bachelorhood, flitting like
a butterfly from lip to lip, Ertene had become inured to a single
life. It would take a definite attraction to swerve her from her
self-sufficiency.
These things came to Maynard as he stood in thought. He knew then that
his was no easy job. Not the simple proposition of asking Ertene to
join her own kind in an orbit about Sol. Not the mere signing of a pact
would serve. Not the Terran-shaded history of the worlds of Sol with
the Terran egotism that did not admit that Terra could possibly be
wrong.
Ertene must be made to see the attractiveness of living in Maynard's
little universe. It must be made more attractive than the interesting
possibilities offered by the unknown worlds that lie ahead on her
course through the galaxy.
All this plus the natural reticence of Ertene to become involved in a
system that ran rife with war. The attractiveness of Sol must be so
great that Ertene would remain in spite of war and alien hatred.
And Maynard knew in his heart that he was not the one to sway them
easily. Part of his mind felt akin to their desire to roam. Even
knowing that he would not live on Ertene to see the next star he wanted
to go with them in order that his children might see it.
And yet his honor was directed at the service of Terra. His sacred oath
had been given to support and strive to the best interest of Terra and
Sol.
He put away the desire to roam with Ertene and thought once more of
the studying he must do to convince Ertene of the absolute foolishness
of continuing in their search for a more suitable star than Sol about
which to establish a residence.
* * * * *
Maynard turned to Charalas and saw that the elderly doctor had been
watching him intently. Before he could speak, the Ertinian said: "It is
a hard nut to crack, lad. Many have tried but none have succeeded. Like
most things that are best for people, they are the least exciting and
the most formal, and people do not react cheerfully to a formal diet."
Maynard shook his head. "But unlike a man with ulcers, I cannot
prescribe a diet of milk lest he die. Ertene will go on living no
matter whether I speak and sway them or whether I never say another
word. I am asked to convince an entire world against their will. I can
not tell them that it is the slightest bit dangerous to go on as they
have. In fact, it may be dangerous for them to remain. In all honesty,
I must admit that Terra is not without her battle scars."
Charalas said, thoughtfully: "Who knows what is best for civilization?
We do not, for we _are_ civilization. We do as we think best, and if it
is not best, we die and another civilization replaces us in Nature's
long-time program to find the real survivor."
He faced the panel and said, partly to himself and partly to Guy:
"Is it best for Ertene to go on through time experimenting? Gathering
the fruits of a million civilizations bound forever to their stellar
homes because of the awful abyss between the stars? For the planets
all to become wanderers would be chaos.
"Therefore is it Nature's plan that Ertene be the one planet to gather
unto herself the fruit of all knowledge and ultimately lie barren
because of the sterility of her culture? Are we to be the sponge for
all thought? If so, where must it end? What good is it? Is this some
great master plan? Will we, after a million galactic years, reach a
state where we may disseminate the knowledge we have gained, or are we
merely greedy, taking all and giving nothing?
"What are we learning? And, above all, are we certain that Ertene's
culture is best for civilization? How may we tell? The strong and best
adapted survive, and since we are no longer striving against the lesser
forces of Nature on our planet, and indeed, are no longer striving
against those of antisocial thought among our own people--against whom
or what do we fight?
"Guy Maynard, you are young and intelligent. Perhaps by some whimsy
of fate you may be the deciding factor in Ertene's aimlessness. We
are here, Guy. We are at the gates to the future. My real reason for
bringing you to the Center of Ertene is to have you present your case
to the Council."
He took Guy's arm and led him through the door at the end of the
corridor. They went into the gilt-and-ivory room with the vast
hemispherical dome and as the door slowly closed behind them, Guy
Maynard, Terran, and Charalas, Ertinian, stood facing a quarter-circle
of ornate desks behind which sat the Council.
Obviously, they had been waiting.