"That is a sign that the winning side is closer to the best form of
social co-operation."
"And when they reach that norm, then what?"
"They never reach," said Charalas. "Their struggles cause each of them
to rise above the norm, and then they swing like the pendulum below the
norm. It is a long, damped cycle."
"A damped cycle must eventually cease."
"Not when you constantly change the norm," said Charalas. "The norm
of prehistoric times is vastly different from the present. Our norm
is different than the future norm. Men advance in knowledge and in
responsibility, and they resent, bitterly, being judged on laws and
rules set up to control their forefathers. City Indilee was the object
of ridicule some hundred kilodays ago because some jurist tried to
invoke a rule against flying less than five thousand noads above the
city."
"I've read about that," smiled Guy, reading it from Charalas' mind. "At
the time, we'd been landing on the building stages for thirty kilodays."
"Right. Another thing, Elanane. Some day anarchy will be the government
of man. But not until man has learned to control himself as an
individual, to respect the rights of others, and to follow the common
wish. Until then we will have government."
"Which brings us back to the original question. You said Ertene is
stale."
* * * * *
"I mean it. Elanane--are we capable of running ourselves?"
"Obviously."
"Then we shouldn't fear a test of fire."
"Our ability to keep out of the fight should be answer enough."
"Any coward can keep from fighting by hiding. Perhaps these Terrans are
right."
"Right? Is it right to destroy the people of Pluto with their way of
living in comfort?"
"Yes. We do not mind killing cattle for food, do we?"
"Yes, but--"
"No, Elanane, it is no different."
"Then how about the ones used by the Terrans for medical experiments?"
"Justified. Up to a certain point a race may experiment to good
advantage on the lower primates. Eventually, there is little to be
known, since the more delicate investigations must be carried out on
higher levels of intelligence."
"These denizens of the outer moon of one of their planets were not of
high intelligence."
"Wrong," said Charalas. "They are of a high order of intelligence. It
is their knowledge that is low. They have the capability. Yet, Elanane,
we have the fundamental law of the survival of the fittest. In warring
upon Mars, weapons and sciences are unloosed which out-strip the
advances made in medicine. Nothing is said against Terra for fighting
against Mars. They are traditional enemies.
"To return to the denizens of Titan. These semi-intelligent natives
are like swine wearing diamonds. They evolved in a society in which
they had no native enemy. They were not forced to become intelligent
in order to live--if they had but one single enemy, they would have
evolved into first-rate civilization ages ago. There has been no
forward step on Titan for ten thousand Terran years. They will never
make an advance. Even if offered the sciences of the inner system, they
would shrug them off and revert back to their semi-savagery."
"I've been told that three generations of schooling would make them
suitable allies for Terra," objected Guy.
Charalas shook his head. "Wrong. Mankind on Terra rose because he
was ambitious--he still is. Titan is not ambitious and never will
be. They have no reason to work, and will not. Terrans--and early
Ertinians--fought their way upward because they had to in order to
live. Therefore, Elanane, the Titanians fall under the classification
of those whose lives are only to support intelligence."
"Um," said Guy. "Then Terra is not the black race they've been painted?"
"Not by a jugful. Nothing was said of downtrodden races of the
past--why balk at downtrodden races of the present?"
"But they should help--"
"Helping anyone is possible only when they want to be helped. The
Titanians are not even grateful for the comforts given to them by
Terra."
"Comforts?" sneered Guy. "The comfort of being vivisected?"
* * * * *
"Terra is not a vampire race," smiled Charalas. "Terra tried to raise
their level and failed because of their lassitude. They didn't give a
hoot. Terra tried to conduct their experiments on a gentle basis; small
experiments such as testing vaccines and antibodies--all, mind, on
Titanians who were ill. They had no chance of danger, and a good chance
of living. Titan had nothing to lose; either the vaccines would work
and save the victim, or would not work and the victim would receive the
best care possible anyway. Terra offered to pay royally. Titan didn't
even care for that. They didn't care for payment; didn't care for
comfort; didn't care that some of their members died.
"And," added Charalas pointedly, "they do not care now, when Terra uses
a few of them for medical purposes."
"How many?"
"There are one hundred million Titanians. Terra takes perhaps one
thousand per year. And a goodly portion of these are ill already. Terra
developed their limb-grafting method out of them, and that alone is
worth their trouble."
"That puts a new face on it," said Guy.
"As for their new find--Mephisto. Mephisto might have received good
friendship. The Mephistans were absolutely alien to Terrans. Mephisto
has nothing that Terra really needs, that Terra couldn't exchange for.
Terra has items that Mephisto could have had, too, thus completing the
cycle. Mephisto's atmosphere is unsuited for Terrans and vice versa.
Their body chemistry would have been poisonous to each other. Here,
then, we have a condition whereby two alien races could have lived in
peace together. Yet Mephisto, not knowing the entire story, thought
Terra a rapacious, vampire race. They, the utter fools, sought Martian
assistance."
"That's what I'd have done."
"Not smart," smiled Charalas. "Never, never get between traditional
enemies, Elanane. You become an innocent bystander that goes down
before the steam roller of a spite battle. That, plus the traditional
system of both planets."
"What's that?"
"Never fight your battles on the home ground--it spoils it badly. Fight
your battles all over some poor innocent's land and leave the homeland
unscarred. Also dirty, Elanane, but Nature is a dirty fighter."
"So you think Terra is all right fundamentally?"
"Obviously. Nature will not permit any unsuitable system to obtain.
Given a few hundred years and Terra will see eye to eye with Mars
against some other system."
"Perhaps against Ertene--?"
"I hope not," said Charalas fervently. "Yet they have some attributes
we need."
"Have they anything we need?"
"They have the verve, the ambition, and unbeatability of youth. We,
Elanane, are stodgy and slow and old."
"That doesn't please me too much."
"That's too bad. It's true. Look, Elanane, how long is our history
compared to theirs?"
"Several hundred times as long, I believe."
"Not quite several hundred, Elanane. But long enough--far long enough
to prove my statement. How does their scientific culture compare?"
"Somewhat less--"
"Equal! Or better perhaps!"
"Oh no."
"Oh yes. The two are divergent to the nth power, but their development
is as high as ours is. Now, Elanane, they've come up alone, driven only
by Mars and other exigencies. Mars came with them. We, Elanane, came up
by slyly taking bits of culture from this system and that system as we
came along.
"Be that as it may," added Charalas. "The question I ponder is this:
_How do we know we're so right?_"