"We have read your minds, earthmen," Chomby said. "We understand the
civilization from the mental pictures you carry in your minds. You have
great brains, but skilled as they are they are nothing in comparison
with ours. It was not your brain that made your world, but your love
of security. You feared wild beasts, so you killed them. You feared
hunger, so you stored food. You built weapons to defend yourself
against enemies. You sought out new worlds in fleeing from dangers of
the old. If your race had not known fear, it would have never done
these things."
"Men died to win that security," Cappy replied. "That wasn't cowardice,
was it?"
"They died fighting, which meant that they hoped to win. Their chance
of victory was more attractive than the insecurity that would come
with defeat," Chomby replied. "My people wish to keep you here. We
want to learn more about the emotion called fear that has made your
civilization so great."
"You'll never keep us!" growled Cappy. His hand automatically touched
the gun on his shoulder.
"That is the fear I speak of," Chomby said. "You would rather die than
be a prisoner. In a different way Terryhall has the same emotion. But
he does not risk so recklessly. He would rather avoid the situation
that makes fighting necessary. He is a brave man, too, Cappyupjohn, but
in a different way."
"He's yellow!" Cappy said vehemently. "He's worse than no help at all."
The earthmen rested, but they were not left alone. Chomby seemed
always to be near. Although Chomby insisted the earthmen were not
prisoners, he made it plain they would not be allowed to leave for a
time.
"We must study you," he said. "In turn, you may study us."
"I'm warning you, Chomby," Cappy roared. "We'll stand just so much of
this thing. We'll stay until we've studied you enough, but when we want
to go, we're going--or we'll die trying."
"That time is not here," Chomby said, wrinkling his lips again.
* * * * *
The icy mental probing of the Mercurians grew familiar to Terry and
Cappy. There was nothing the earthmen could think of that these eerie,
repulsive-looking creatures did not understand. That the Mercurians
read Terry's thoughts so easily was often embarrassing, for Terry knew
that they were aware of his repugnance toward them, as well as Terry's
distrust and fear.
But Chomby and his people seemed to accept Terry's opinion of them
understandingly. Not one of them made a move to remove either Terry's
or Cappy's guns.
After a first period of mental probing Chomby urged the earthmen to
instruct the Mercurians in some simple crafts. Now the earthmen enjoyed
the sense of superiority that previously had been a monopoly of the
Mercurians. The simplest pieces of handiwork were almost beyond, the
Mercurians. The hands of these creatures, without thumbs and with
stiff fingers, were clumsy. Weaving was an arduous task. Construction
of a simple, primitive thatched dwelling was attempted and abandoned,
when Cappy found that it would require months to complete. It was not
because the Mercurians did not understand what had to be done--they
knew this the instant the terrestrials pictured the idea in their
minds. But the tasks were nearly impossible for the Mercurians.
Terry taught a few of the creatures to write, but the rest could not
master the process, although every one of them had learned to read by
watching Terry's mind at work.
Cappy grew more contemptuous of the Mercurians as he watched their
bungling efforts at the simplest human arts.
"We haven't anything to be afraid of from these creatures, Terry," he
said.
Terry shook his head.
"They've got brains, Cappy. They know everything we know and a lot
of things we don't. They read us like a book. They know our thoughts
before we know them ourselves."
"It isn't thought that wins battles. It's power. Oh, brains help, but
only when used in the application of the proper weapons. Why with our
guns and fists we probably could lick this whole village. I'm sure they
haven't coordination enough to fight hand-to-hand with us singly."
"But they're too smart to let us out-maneuver them," Terry said.
"There's a principle that seems to work in society that makes me afraid
of these Mercurians. In the history of our own planet, it has always
been the brains which exploited the brawn among men. People who thought
of things usually took ascendancy over those who tried to progress
by the sweat of their brow. For instance, everyone knows Columbus
discovered America, but who knows the name of the man who built the
ships he sailed in? LeCompton designed the first successful spacecraft,
but the name of the man who tooled the intricate parts of its mechanism
and made it successful has been completely forgotten."
"You mean we're likely to become slaves of these--these Zombies?"
"Since we came to this village they've changed," Terry said. "These
Zombies--as you call them--are learning fear. They see their world,
lashed by cold and hot winds, freezing and roasting, as an insecure
place. A violent storm might burn up their food supply, or freeze their
crops. For the first time they've seen fear as a safeguard to their
future. Now they want to build. They want places to store food; homes
to protect them from cold. They want means of transportation, to escape
uninhabitable spots. They know the value of fear, but they cannot
conquer it because they are physiologically incapable of conquering
their environment. When they realize this--if they don't realize it
already--they'll force us to conquer their environment for them. Every
earthman unfortunate enough to land on Mercury will become a slave--"
"Great Scott, Terry!" Cappy exclaimed. "I believe you are right. Your
fear has been warning us all along to get out of this place. Get your
gun ready, we're going back to the space ship--"
The light from the entrance of the cave was blotted out. Chomby stood
before them, followed by a horde of his fellow beings.
"You recognized fear too late, Cappyupjohn," Chomby said.
The two earthmen tried to level their guns, but the Mercurians attacked
too quickly. The leathery fists struck home and the guns slipped from
the earthmen's grasps.
* * * * *
A transformation occurred in front of the row of caves in the basalt
cliff. Windbreaks appeared in the openings in the wall. Rude machines
were set up to build houses of stone and covered passages from cave to
cave. From the fibrous ferns Terry constructed rude looms for weaving
cloth. Stone mills for grinding the pulpy fruit of the Mercurian trees
into flour were designed.
How long the two earthmen had been prisoners on Mercury they had no way
of telling, for there was neither night nor day, nor seasons in the
twilight zone. But the Earth had disappeared over the south horizon
and reappeared in the north and Cappy estimated that two-thirds of the
Mercurian year of 88 days had passed.
"We won't be here another year," Terry said.