Mike Resnick - Seven Views of Olduvai Gorge

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For F&SF and Axolotl Press @ 22,000 words

SEVEN VIEWS OF OLDUVAI GORGE

by Mike Resnick

The creatures came again last night.

The moon had just slipped behind the clouds when we heard the

first rustlings in the grass. Then there was a moment of utter

silence, as if they knew we were listening for them, and finally

there were the familiar hoots and shrieks as they raced to within

fifty meters of us and, still screeching, struck postures of

aggression.

They fascinate me, for they never show themselves in the

daylight, and yet they manifest none of the features of the true

nocturnal animal. Their eyes are not oversized, their ears cannot

move independently, they tread very heavily on their feet. They

frighten most of the other members of my party, and while I am

curious about them, I have yet to absorb one of them and study it.

To tell the truth, I think my use of absorption terrifies my

companions more than the creatures do, though there is no reason

why it should. Although I am relatively young by my race's

standards, I am nevertheless many millennia older than any other

member of my party. You would think, given their backgrounds, that

they would know that any trait someone of my age possesses must by

definition be a survival trait.

Still, it bothers them. Indeed, it _mystifies_ them, much as

my memory does. Of course, theirs seem very inefficient to me.

Imagine having to learn everything one knows in a single lifetime,

to be totally ignorant at the moment of birth! Far better to split

off from your parent with his knowledge intact in your brain, just

as _my_ parent's knowledge came to him, and ultimately to me.

But then, that is why we are here: not to compare

similarities, but to study differences. And never was there a race

so different from all his fellows as Man. He was extinct barely

seventeen millennia after he strode boldly out into the galaxy

from this, the planet of his birth -- but during that brief

interval he wrote a chapter in galactic history that will last

forever. He claimed the stars for his own, colonized a million

worlds, ruled his empire with an iron will. He gave no quarter

during his primacy, and he asked for none during his decline and

fall. Even now, some forty-eight centuries after his extinction,

his accomplishments and his failures still excite the imagination.

Which is why we are on Earth, at the very spot that was said

to be Man's true birthplace, the rocky gorge where he first

crossed over the evolutionary barrier, saw the stars with fresh

eyes, and vowed that they would someday be his.

Our leader is Bellidore, an Elder of the Kragan people,

orange-skinned, golden fleeced, with wise, patient ways. Bellidore

is well-versed in the behavior of sentient beings, and settles our

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disputes before we even know that we are engaged in them.

Then there are the Stardust Twins, glittering silver beings

who answer to each other's names and finish each other's thoughts.

They have worked on seventeen archaeological digs, but even _they_

were surprised when Bellidore chose them for this most prestigious

of all missions. They behave like life mates, though they display

no sexual characteristics -- but like all the others, they refuse

to have physical contact with me, so I cannot assuage my

curiosity.

Also in our party is the Moriteu, who eats the dirt as if it

were a delicacy, speaks to no one, and sleeps upside-down while

hanging from a branch of a nearby tree. For some reason, the

creatures always leave it alone. Perhaps they think it is dead,

possibly they know it is asleep and that only the rays of the sun

can awaken it. Whatever the reason, we would be lost without it,

for only the delicate tendrils that extend from its mouth can

excavate the ancient artifacts we have discovered with the proper

care.

We have four other species with us: one is an Historian, one

an Exobiologist, one an Appraiser of human artifacts, and one

a Mystic. (At least, I _assume_ she is a Mystic, for I can find no

pattern to her approach, but this may be due to my own

shortsightedness. After all, what I do seems like magic to my

companions and yet it is a rigorously-applied science.)

And, finally, there is me. I have no name, for my people do

not use names, but for the convenience of the party I have taken

the name of He Who Views for the duration of the expedition. This

is a double misnomer: I am not a _he_, for my race is not divided

by gender; and I am not a viewer, but a Fourth Level Feeler.

Still, I could intuit very early in the voyage that "feel" means

something very different to my companions than to myself, and out

of respect for their sensitivities, I chose a less accurate name.

Every day finds us back at work, examining the various

strata. There are many signs that the area once teemed with living

things, that early on there was a veritable explosion of life

forms in this place, but very little remains today. There are a

few species of insects and birds, some small rodents, and of

course the creatures who visit our camp nightly.

Our collection has been growing slowly. It is fascinating to

watch my companions perform their tasks, for in many ways they are

as much of a mystery to me as my methods are to them. For example,

our Exobiologist needs only to glide her tentacle across an object

to tell us whether it was once living matter; the Historian,

surrounded by its complex equipment, can date any object, carbon-

based or otherwise, to within a decade of its origin, regardless

of its state of preservation; and even the Moriteu is a thing of

beauty and fascination as it gently separates the artifacts from

the strata where they have rested for so long.

I am very glad I was chosen to come on this mission.

We have been here for two lunar cycles now, and the work goes

slowly. The lower strata were thoroughly excavated eons ago (I

have such a personal interest in learning about Man that I almost

used the word _plundered_ rather than _excavated_, so resentful am

I at not finding more artifacts), and for reasons as yet unknown

there is almost nothing in the more recent strata.

Most of us are pleased with our results, and Bellidore is

particularly elated. He says that finding five nearly intact

artifacts makes the expedition an unqualified success.

All the others have worked tirelessly since our arrival. Now

it is almost time for me to perform my special function, and I am

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very excited. I know that my findings will be no more important

that the others', but perhaps, when we put them all together, we

can finally begin to understand what it was that made Man what he

was.

"Are you..." asked the first Stardust Twin.

"...ready?" said the second.

I answered that I was ready, that indeed I had been anxious

for this moment.

"May we..."

"...observe?" they asked.

"If you do not find it distasteful," I replied.

"We are...

"...scientists," they said. "There is..."

"...very little..."

"...that we cannot view..."

"...objectively."

I ambulated to the table upon which the artifact rested. It

was a stone, or at least that is what it appeared to be to my

exterior sensory organs. It was triangular, and the edges showed

signs of work.

"How old is this?" I asked.

"Three million..."

"...five hundred and sixty-one thousand..."

"...eight hundred and twelve years," answered the Stardust

Twins.

"I see," I said.

"It is much..."

"...the oldest..."

"...of our finds."

I stared at it for a long time, preparing myself. Then I

slowly, carefully, altered my structure and allowed my body to

flow over and around the stone, engulfing it, and assimilating its

history. I began to feel a delicious warmth as it became one with

me, and while all my exterior senses had shut down, I knew that I

was undulating and glowing with the thrill of discovery. I became

one with the stone, and in that corner of my mind that is set

aside for Feeling, I seemed to sense the Earth's moon looming low

and ominous just above the horizon...

* * *

Enkatai awoke with a start just after dawn and looked up at

the moon, which was still high in the sky. After all these weeks

it still seemed far too large to hang suspended in the sky, and

must surely crash down onto the planet any moment. The nightmare

was still strong in her mind, and she tried to imagine the

comforting sight of five small, unthreatening moons leapfrogging

across the silver sky of her own world. She was able to hold the

vision in her mind's eye for only a moment, and then it was lost,

replaced by the reality of the huge satellite above her.

Her companion approached her.

"Another dream?" he asked.

"Exactly like the last one," she said uncomfortably. "The

moon is visible in the daylight, and then we begin walking down

the path..."

He stared at her with sympathy and offered her nourishment.

She accepted it gratefully, and looked off across the veldt.

"Just two more days," she sighed, "and then we can leave this

awful place."

"It is not such a terrible world," replied Bokatu. "It has

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many good qualities."

"We have wasted our time here," she said. "It is not fit for

colonization."

"No, it is not," he agreed. "Our crops cannot thrive in this

soil, and we have problems with the water. But we have learned

many things, things that will eventually help us choose the proper

world."

"We learned most of them the first week we were here," said

Enkatai. "The rest of the time was wasted."

"The ship had other worlds to explore. They could not know we

would be able to analyze this one in such a short time."

She shivered in the cool morning air. "I hate this place."

"It will someday be a fine world," said Bokatu. "It awaits

only the evolution of the brown monkeys."

Even as he spoke, an enormous baboon, some 350 pounds in

weight, heavily muscled, with a shaggy chest and bold, curious

eyes, appeared in the distance. Even walking on all fours it was a

formidable figure, fully twice as large as the great spotted cats.

"_We_ cannot use this world," continued Bokatu, "but someday

_his_ descendants will spread across it."

"They seem so placid," commented Enkatai.

"They _are_ placid," agreed Bokatu, hurling a piece of food

at the baboon, which raced forward and picked it up off the

ground. It sniffed at it, seemed to consider whether or not to

taste it, and finally, after a moment of indecision, put it in its

mouth. "But they will dominate this planet. The huge grass-eaters

spend too much time feeding, and the predators sleep all the time.

No, my choice is the brown monkey. They are fine, strong,

intelligent animals. They have already developed thumbs, they

possess a strong sense of community, and even the great cats think

twice about attacking them. They are virtually without natural

predators." He nodded his head, agreeing with himself. "Yes, it is

they who will dominate this world in the eons to come."

"No predators?" said Enkatai.

"Oh, I suppose one falls prey to the great cats now and then,

but even the cats do not attack when they are with their troop."

He looked at the baboon. "That fellow has the strength to tear all

but the biggest cat to pieces."

"Then how do you account for what we found at the bottom of

the gorge?" she persisted.

"Their size has cost them some degree of agility. It is only

natural that one occasionally falls down the slopes to its death."

"Occasionally?" she repeated. "I found seven skulls, each

shattered as if from a blow."

"The force of the fall," said Bokatu with a shrug. "Surely

you don't think the great cats brained them before killing them?"

"I wasn't thinking of the cats," she replied.

"What, then?"

"The small, tailless monkeys that live in the gorge."

Bokatu allowed himself the luxury of a superior smile. "Have

you _looked_ at them?" he said. "They are scarcely a quarter the

size of the brown monkeys."

"I _have_ looked at them," answered Enkatai. "And they, too,

have thumbs."

"Thumbs alone are not enough," said Bokatu.

"They live in the shadow of the brown monkeys, and they are

still here," she said. "_That_ is enough."

"The brown monkeys are eaters of fruits and leaves. Why

should they bother the tailless monkeys?"

"They do more than not bother them," said Enkatai. "They

avoid them. That hardly seems like a species that will someday

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Mike Resnick - Seven Views of Olduvai Gorge

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