A. E. Van Vogt - The battle of forever

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MODYUN WAS feeling quite cynical by the time the speaker,

having finished his talk on the new light that had been cast

on man's history, asked for questions.

There were several questions of the foolish kind—people

did not quite seem to know what to make of the information

that had been imparted. Languidly, Modyun indicated

thought and had attention.

"Are you sure you're not describing some old-style mythol-

ogy?" he asked.

"We can't be sure, of course," was the cautious reply, "but

we think not."

"The picture you give of our remote ancestors," Modyun

persisted, "is one that considerably strains my credulity."

"Ours, also, at first," was the answer. "But the context and

immensity of detail obtained provides verisimilitude."

"It would seem, then, that our ancestors fought like ani-

mals, with a sustained savagery which almost suggests that

they were capable of genuine physical activity."

"That is most certainly what we have discovered."

"And like our animals, they actually walked on their own

legs and did not have to be supported by artificial aids?"

"Exactly," said the speaker.

Modyun was sarcastic. "I envision somebody's delusion."

Faint, agreeing smiles registered on dozens of faces.

"I presume," Modyun continued, "they conceived and bore

their own children."

"Oh, yes," was the reply. "A process of copulation impreg-

nated the female, who thereupon gestated for a period and

then delivered."

All present shuddered as this act was visualized.

"Disgusting," a woman murmured.

Another person said, "I'm afraid this is beginning to be a

little hard to accept. Next thing, you'll be telling us that they

ate their own food."

"Exactly," said the speaker. "Passed it through the alimen-

tary canal, had a method of individual personal digestion,

and passed on the excreta into a dung receiver."

There were a few more questions, but those present were

now fairly alienated; the speaker, Doda, perceived this

through the still-open thought-channel amplifiers by which he

was connected to his "audience." Observing that Modyun was

one of the still connected, Doda indicated in a private

thought: "For some reason, I anticipated that you would be

more interested in these discoveries than the others."

Modyun was amused. "I have a body two feet long, and a

head fourteen inches in diameter. What way could I be inter-

ested in a precontrol human with eight feet of muscle and

bone, capable of supporting his head himself? I perceive you

have in mind my growing to that size as a scientific gesture."

"Our ancestors were more like six feet."

"Yes, but their heads were smaller, you said."

"Perhaps"—Doda's indication had a desperate overtone—

"if a female were to agree to grow large, it might be an inter-

esting experiment for you."

Modyun was instantly in a state of sardonic disbelief.

"That will never happen. Our women are much too refined."

He broke off, ironically, "Why not perform this experiment

on yourself?"

"Because I'm the experimenter. It would take a year to

grow the bodies longer, and then perhaps two years for the

experiment, and then a year to become human again. Some-

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body must supervise."

Modyun was derisive. "Four years! When I want to ruin

any reputation I have for sanity, I'll contact you."

"Don't decide against this right now," Doda pleaded.

"Remember, you are the person who has said that somebody

ought to go outside the barrier occasionally and see what's

happening out there in the world."

"I was only joking," Modyun replied tartly.

"Still, you said it. Still—you thought it."

It was true.

Showed you, thought Modyun ruefully, that somebody was

always listening with his own evaluation and purpose even to

one's most casual comments . . . Unquestionably, Doda had

preselected him for the experiment because he had made

those remarks. Still—there were facts here . . . not to be ig-

nored.

He said, abruptly thoughtful, "Surely, a careful exam-

ination of the archives and of early teaching devices, now dis-

carded, would establish a great deal of this. Such a study

would be necessary for anyone going outside..."

Doda was discreetly silent.

Modyun went on, "That part of it could be interesting."

He thereupon called his insect attendant, and was carried

away.

Three days later Modyun was floating lazily in his private,

sunlit pool. It was where he normally went to absorb the sun-

rays from which he extracted the energy that converted the

air he breathed and the water that he absorbed through his

pores into the nutrient that maintained his body in perfect

perpetual health.

Well, almost perpetual. He was the third generation test-

tube issue inside the barriers. Each of the previous two gener-

ations had survived about fifteen hundred years.

He floated there and gazed admiringly at his image in a

sunken mirror. What a noble and handsome head, and de-

lightful tapering body. The tiny arms and legs were partly

hidden in an almost invisible harness.

Yet he could already see the hint of changes—he was

several millimetres longer. For a brain as open to perception

and as sensitive as his, such small transformations were

clearly visible.

Doda had said that there might be a few growing pains,

but these, he said, could be dealt with by properly instructing

the insect scientist-aide, Eket, to inject feeling-reducing drugs

into the meals he would later be taking into his body through

tubes.

That, of course—Doda had pointed out apologetically—

was before he actually reached the stage of eating solid foods.

Modyun shrugged aside the experimenter's concern. He

had made his decision when he learned that the woman

Soodleel had agreed to grow large and had agreed to associ-

ate with any male who did the same . . . There had been a

slight stirring of male interest as this information was given

out, for Soodleel was an extremely feminine creature who

was always welcome in anybody's pool But Doda had

swiftly squelched potential competition by announcing—with

Modyun's permission—that the choice was already made.

Soodleel thereupon said she was glad it was Modyun. She

would follow him into size after one month.

And so here he was—years later.

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He had been carried by Eket himself, and set down in a

little grassy nook a short distance from the highway—which

was beyond a brush-covered embankment out of sight.

A sound of tires on pavement came from over there. The

noise stirred Modyun unexpectedly. He had to brace himself

against a strong urge to jump up and down from an auto-

matic excitement ... a totally unanticipated body response.

He kept consciously restraining his twitching muscles as he

stood watching Eket depart back toward the mountains. The

insect scientist was soon out of sight around an outjut of a

cliff.

Modyun started up the shallow slope, still restraining him-

self and still astonished by what was going on inside his skin.

Reaching the top, he forced a pathway through a screen of

bushes. He came suddenly to the roadside.

Long ago, he had had one of his insect carriers bring him

to this road. And, for a while, he had watched the traffic, the

innumerable cars racing madly along. Almost every machine

carried passengers: a seemingly endless number of animals of

every kind. The variety of creatures had of itself roused in

him a growing wonder. Because he had forgotten how many

types of beast there were. All civilized now for thousands of

years, and living in their man-created mechanical world.

"But where are they all going?" Modyun had finally com-

municated to his insect guide, a huge praying mantis origi-

nally modified for travel over the rough mountain country.

The mantis had no answer except a strictly practical insect-

type answer that was itself a question:

"Sir, why don't we stop a hundred or so of these cars, and

ask each passenger where he is going?"

At the time Modyun had rejected that. It had seemed like

a waste. But now—as he stood watching what seemed to be

exactly the same rushing vehicles—he regretted that he had

been too bored in that previous venture to conduct the sug-

gested interrogation.

No boredom this time. His full-grown body felt warm with

a thousand internal tuggings. Everywhere he looked, stimu-

lation came back to him. It brought—the impulse to jiggle up

and down, to twist and untwist, to move his mouth and wave

his arms.

So much motion out there. The innumerable vehicles . . .

The sound and sight of them reached into his ears and eyes

and found his motor centers undefended.

The effect on him was almost like being out of control. In-

tolerable . . . Modyun indicated muscular inhibition. At

once, all the tremblings and jerkings inside him ceased.

Calm again, he rejected an unoccupied vehicle which

pulled over to him. Moments later, he signalled a car with

four animals in it, and room for two more.

After it had screeched to a halt, Modyun had to run for-

ward to climb aboard. Breathing hard, he sank with a plop

into his seat. He was slightly amazed at what the exertion had

produced, and noted swiftly what the responses in his body

were. Increased heartbeat Rapid lung dilation. Noisy breath

inhalation and exhalation. And internal chemical changes so

numerous that, after following them for a few moments, he

gave up.

Interesting. New. He thought: Those drugs Doda gave me

in my final growth period held me down to a sedate walk.

And, of course, before that was the peaceful, gardenlike envi-

ronment, stimulating only pleasant feelings.

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He grew aware that the other passengers in the car were

eyeing him curiously.

With that, thought of the past receded from the forefront

of bis mind. He eyed them back, with a small, courteous

smile.

"What are you?" asked a catlike male, finally. "I don't re-

call seeing your species before."

The speaker bore a faint resemblance to a South American

jaguar.

Modyun was about to reply that he was a man, when the

import of the other's remark penetrated. Man, the ruler of

the planet was—unknown.

It's true, he thought, that we do live a withdrawn existence,

with our insect attendants and carriers and our household an-

imals. And we ourselves have been uninterested in the animal

and insect civilization that existed beyond the barrier.

But that that outside world had ceased to be aware of him

and his fellows was another matter entirely. That was cer-

tainly not part of the original programming .. . The realiza-

tion stopped Modyun from naturally uttering the truth about

himself. Before he could decide what he should say, a minus-

cule, modified hippopotamus—a slim, eight-foot-long being

who even seemed to have a little bit of a neck—who was sit-

ting in the front seat, said, with a shrug, "He's an ape.

There's lots of his type in Africa."

A swift objection came from the foxlike animal who sat in

the rear seat beside Modyun. "I've seen lots of apes. There's

a resemblance, but it's not the same."

"For God's sake," said the hippopotamus-man. "Apes are

not one species like you and me. There are different breeds,

and they don't look like each other."

That seemed to dispose of the argument, for the foxman

stroked his jaw but said nothing more.

Well, thought Modyun tolerantly. An ape, eh? Why not?

It was a casual, of-the-moment acceptance. The failure of

the programming that prevented these animal-men from

recognizing him as a human being was puzzling, but it was

something to inquire into. The reason for it might even make

an interesting report when he returned behind the barrier.

So he settled down to play the role of ape, and to engage

in a friendly discussion with a hippopotamus-man, fox-man,

jaguar-man, and a darkly handsome being who presently

identified himself as a grizzly bear.

All of these animal people were between seven and eight

feet hi height They had had their bodies modified to a semi-

human form. Each had hands, and sat erect—and of course

was capable of walking erect

In a dull way, being in a car with them was kind of inter-

esting. Modyun leaned back in his seat, gazed out at rapidly

moving countryside and felt a stirring inside him. Excite-

ment? He dismissed that at once. Yet he analyzed that his

body was having its own reactions, and he presumed that hu-

man beings had not been able in the long ago days to realize

that such low-level stimulations were exactly that—purely

physical and chemical.

He remembered again what the praying mantis had said

that last time—about asking the motivation of a hundred ani-

mal people. So, now, he said it: "Where are you going?"

He suppressed an impulse to add the words "so fast." But

the fact was that all the cars were scooting along like

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mechanical demons at a speed that was in excess of the origi-

nal programming on such matters. Evidently the computers

which handled these details had had their data altered. Up-

ward.

By whom? Modyun wondered.

All four of his fellow passengers—they told him—had

been to a training school to learn the operation of a big

spaceship. And they were now going into the city of Hulee to

await takeoff. He gathered that they had become buddies in

camp. Their attitude toward each other was intimate, even af-

fectionate—and, after the preliminary brief curiosity, ex-

cluded him. Which was fine with Modyun.

He felt far beyond such trivial matters. As the four dis-

cussed details of their training and talked of the forthcoming

journey into space, his attention drifted. Presently, he saw

that the hurtling car was entering a city. Swiftly the buildings

became more numerous. They climbed hills, and were fleet-

ingly visible beyond a distant river. Soon the city was every-

where around him. Large and small buildings glittered in the

noon sun.

As he watched, he was aware that his body was again ex-

periencing a sense of stimulation. Had he not known better

he might have unknowingly accepted that he himself was ex-

cited. Have to watch out for that. . . Strong tendency of self

to identify with body feelings.

The city of Hulee, he thought. Well, here I am. The first

human being to come outside the barrier in about 3500 years.

There was—he had to admit it—a certain greatness about

that.

"WHERE DO you want to go?" one of the animals asked.

It took a moment for Modyun to realize that the bear-man

was addressing him. He emerged from his reverie and said he

didn't know. "I'm new here. Just"—he spoke glibly—"ar-

rived from Africa. Where do you suggest?"

They discussed the matter gravely, ignoring him. Finally,

the fox-man said, and his voice held a note of surprise that

they hadn't thought of it before. "Why don't we take him

with us?"

And that was the decision.

"We can show him the whole gazoo," said the hippopot-

amus-man. "Might be kind of fun to see, for example, what

kind of females he takes up with."

Modyun remembered Soodleel. "I've got my own female

coming," he said.

"That's even better," said the jaguar-man. "We can watch

how apes make love," There must have been an odd ex-

pression on Modyun's face, for his slightly slit eyes widened

innocently. "You won't mind, will you?"

Modyun himself could see no objection, but he had an in-

tuition that Soodleel might object. Just before his departure,

she and he had gone in to observe one of his animal couples

go through the sex act. Soodleel, of course, was not yet fully

grown at the time, and perhaps her reaction had reflected the

irritable state of her body. But she had been rather strange

about the whole thing.

Smiling at the memory, he explained smoothly that female

apes sometimes objected to observers.

The four males stared at him, first in astonishment, then

with an almost uniform contempt. The jaguar-man said, "For

God's sake, you mean to tell us you apes let your females tell

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you what to do."

He looked at his companions with a sly expression. "I can

see we're going to have to train this fellow how to be a

male." He was calm now, superior. He reached over and

patted Modyun's arm. "Don't worry, sir. You stick with us

and we'll soon have you in a normal condition."

At this point, for the first time, the quartet of animal-men

introduced themselves. The jaguar-man was Dooldn, the

bear-man was Roozb, the fox-man was Narrl, and the hippo-

potamus-man was Ichdohz.

Having given their names, the creature-men waited expect-

antly. Modyun hesitated. All in a rush, memory had come of

what these names meant, and how they had come about. In

identifying animals, men had simply assigned each so many

letters of the alphabet: five letters for animals of North

America, six for South America, seven for Africa, and so on.

The computers that had been programmed to name individu-

als had been instructed not to use all of one letter for a

name. Thus there was no animal named Aaaaa or Bbbbb.

But except for that the madnesses of alphabetical progression

had been allowed free play. In that name sweepstake, his

companions had come out rather well. Without exception

their names were pronounceable.

What momentarily bothered Modyun was that men had

chosen a slightly different way of naming themselves. So his

name, Modyun, would instantly identify him as human being

... to anyone who understood the formula.

Yet his hesitation was brief. He saw at once that by chang-

ing the y in Modyun to i, he would retain the pronunciation

and avoid the human identification, and by adding an n, he

could establish himself as being a seven letter animal from

Africa. At least, he could establish it until he presented the

letter combination to a computer.

Which didn't really matter. After all, ft would be ridiculous

to maintain this fiction of being an ape for very much longer.

His modified name was accepted without question. And so

he was Modiunn ... for a few more hours. Or minutes.

Dooldn, the jaguar-man, thereupon informed him that he

and his companions were heading for the center of the city.

Doodln said, "You understand the lodgings system here. I

presume it's the same all over the world."

"Yes, I understand it," said Modyun curtly.

As he climbed out of the car a few minutes later, he real-

ized he was nettled. Did he understand how these cities were

operated! He who was of the race that had created the auto-

matic cities and the automatic countryside—in short, the

whole gazoo.

Nevertheless, as the car drove off, and the four animal-men

walked rapidly across the wide street, it took Modyun a few

moments to realize that they were heading toward a moving

sidewalk.

Of course, he thought then, chiding himself.

Old memories were stirring, and the city began to look

more familiar. He recalled that the residential area was struc-

tured to take care of transients in one sector, and then pro-

gressively larger permanent families, and finally there were a

few luxury places reserved for human beings.

The journey on the moving sidewalk ended after a block

and a half. The jaguar-man pointed up a hillside, said, "Hey,

there's a whole street of unoccupieds. Let's get settled, and

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then go out and have something to eat."

Modyun was the last to make the four-way transition from

the fast to the medium-fast to the slow, and finally to the

street. His companions headed up the bill, and he followed at

a slower pace, undecided. Should he continue this deception?

It seemed a little futile. Nonetheless, like the others, he was

presently standing before a set of buttons. He pushed the cor-

rect ones, spelling out his ape name.

Waited, then, for the door computer to open the door.

The computer refused to accept him. "You are not a

properly identified person," it said.

A timeless period went by while Modyun did nothing, did

not react, did not even consider what the machine had said.

There was confusion inside him, a feeling he had never had

before. And in a way that was a reaction, but it was brand

new to him. So it was not a conscious thing, and it was not

his mind being aware of a response of his body.

The fantastic thing was that the overall confusion affected

his thought as well...

He began to come to. And his first awareness was purely

observational. There in front of him was the mechanism

beside the door of the apartment: the buttons he had pushed,

the little triangulated metal grille below—from which the

voice of the computer had spoken the incredible words.

Off to one side he could see a long line of sterile apartment

buildings exactly like the one which he had selected to be his

home. Well, not exactly apartments. They were all one-story

high, and they spread down the entire block like a terrace.

Each separate unit had its little set of steps leading up to a

small porch, and, he presumed—though he could not clearly

make out what was beside the doors further along—that each

porch had its little set of alphabetical buttons and its speaker

system behind a grille.

In a way, it was a drab world that he gazed upon. Yet,

how else provide housing for millions? True, if his ancestors

had had the same sort of tolerant attitude toward animal-men

that he had, they might well not have considered beauty, but

only utility.

But since cleanliness was useful, they had provided auto-

matic cleaning systems for each dwelling and for the city. So

than the plastic wall and the plastic door and the stainless

metal grille fairly shone, so clean were they. And the steps

looked washed and scrubbed, and the sidewalk below showed

not a speck of dirt.

He was still sort of vaguely observing the details of the

world around him when it occurred to Modyun what it was

that had affected him so enormously.

Rejection.

I've been rejected.

In his entire lifetime of several hundred years, nobody had

ever done that to him before. The impact of it had struck a

mind that had no barriers except a philosophy of the futility

of things—and particularly of effort. Nothing was worth do-

ing, really. So bodies had feelings, and minds didn't It was

the nature of a human being that he could be aware when his

body had a feeling. It had been the destiny of human beings

that they could choose to ignore the feelings of their bodies.

And for many moments now, he had not been able to do

that. As he realized the astonishing truth of his deep disturb-

ance—realized it again—Modyun grew aware that his body

was in a state of irritation.

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Consciousness of a physical feeling was like a signal. All in

an instant his mind returned to its normal state: separate

from the body, calm once more, but curious. He said,

"What's the problem? I have a name of correct length and

correct coding for an ape from Africa. What makes me unac-

ceptable?"

"The individual of that name—Modiunn—is at present in

Africa, registered as being in residence at a specific address."

The irritation was stronger. Somehow, his body seemed

slightly less controllable. It took a moment for Modyun to re-

alize what it was that was so bothersome to his body. In the

old days, computers could have been programmed to handle

such details, but they hadn't been. No human being had ever

worried about a particular animal, where he was, or even

what happened to him.

So he said now in a dangerous tone, "Since when has the

location of a particular animal been of concern to a com-

puter?"

"Are you questioning my right to refuse you admission?"

asked the computer.

"I," said Modyun from his height of human being, "am

questioning how come you know where another Modiunn is,

and I want to know who interrelated you with a computer in

South Africa."

The computer said that it had been interrelated with all

other computers on the planet for 3453 years, 11 hours, 27

minutes, and 10 seconds. Since it was answering, Modyun

surmised that it had never been programmed against such

questions as he was asking.

He parted his lips to continue his sharp inquiry, when he

realized that his body was experiencing a sickish sensation.

He perceived then that the elapsed time bothered some deep-

feeling nerve and visceral area inside him. Exactly how long

man had been behind the barrier, he did not know, after all

he was third generation. But he divined from the information

centers hi his brain that the computers had been repro-

grammed within a few years after man's withdrawal.

Who could have done it?

He made one more attempt. "You refuse to open this door

for me?"

"It's impossible," was the reply. "I'm an automatic, and

you don't qualify for entrance."

Modyun was unhappily reminded by the computer's state-

ment of the limitations of a mechanical device. The problem

was not the machine, but whatever—whoever—had changed

the way it operated.

I'il see if I can persuade one of the others to move into a

bigger place, and share it with me, he decided.

The animal-men, he now observed, had disappeared into

their little houses. Modyun recalled that Roozb, the bear-

man, occupied the residence to his left. So he walked there,

and knocked on the door—ignoring the button system.

A pause. The sound of footsteps. The door opened, and

there was the handsome bear-man. The big fellow gave

Modyun a welcoming smile. "Hey," he said, "you got cleaned

up pretty quick. Come in. I'll be ready in a minute."

Modyun entered, half expecting the door computer to chal-

lenge him here, also. But the grille speaker was silent; the

mechanism was not triggered by his and Roozb's interchange.

And obviously it was not affected by the fact of his presence.

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Takes the buttons, he thought, relieved.

He had intended to make his request for sharing a two-

bedroom transient apartment at the door. But now that was

not necessary. Exactly when he should do something, and

what it ought to be, was not clear at all. But it was clear that

something was not as it should be.

What had been believed was that this animal culture was a

stereotype, with no surprises. Roozb's hearty invitation gave

him a little more time to think about it.

I'll ask for a shared apartment... a little later.

HALF AN hour after...

The five of them walked to the commissary two blocks

away. Inside, Modyun held back while the others eagerly

grabbed plates and got into the lineup. The question in

Modyun's mind was: would the food computer refuse him

service? And did he want to be exposed here and now as

being a human being?

What decided him to go forward was the unwillingness to

believe that somebody had gone to the trouble of changing

millions of these simple machines. More important, outwardly

there seemed to be no sign that the slowly-built-up (over

thousands of years) system of free food—with no questions

asked—had been altered.

Machines automatically tilled the soil and harvested the re-

sultant crops. For the formerly carnivorous, different types of

protein substance were computer-created from the edible

grains, fruits, grasses, shrubs, and trees. For the formerly her-

bivorous, a suitable diet was manufactured in the same total

fashion. Almost everything green, yellow, or wood, had a use

for some now-intelligent life-form. Almost nothing was

wasted.

Too complex. Modification would have meant interfering

with the entire chain of operation. Modyun took his food

from containers that the automat computer allowed him to

open. He used his correct name, trust that much to his logic.

After all, as he recalled it, apes still ate a variety of herbs

that human beings didn't care for. And, thank you, no.

Presently, his plate scantily laden with edible food, he

made his way to the table to which his companions had

preceded him. Still no interference. All was well. Since they

were involved in a lively discussion, Modyun sat down and

began laboriously to munch and swallow. Though he had

eaten many times toward the end of his period behind the

barrier, the entire process remained distasteful.

He kept remembering that after he had endured the

nuisance of eating, there would come an even more degrad-

ing time. Later ... he would have to find a public toilet,

and in the presence in adjoining stalls of other creatures, dis-

pose of excretory matter.

Life outside the barrier, he thought, is exactly as I per-

ceived it would be: a boring, tiring, irritating experience. But

he was trapped for a time in the big body, and had to fulfil

its requirements.

He had a vision of men of old. Each individual driven, his

problems never solved, the ceaseless need to cope with his en-

vironment renewing each morning, and forcing him to con-

tinuing action.

What thought could such a being have? Nothing.

Modyun was unhappily chewing over his food and his situ-

ation, when he realized from a chance word that his four

friends were still on the tiresome subject of their impending

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journey into space.

Somebody, it seemed, had persuaded the authorities to au-

thorize a wrong type of destination for the expedition. And

they must be counteracted, and the powers-that-be convinced

of the correct kind of stars for the supership to visit

"... Importance ... necessary action ... vital... decisive

for the world..."

The words with their implication of things that absolutely

had to be done moved through Modyun's perceptive system,

and at first he merely let them register. Finally, he took cog-

nizance of their meaning, and said with a faint smile:

"If you failed to put over your viewpoint, what would hap-

pen?"

The jaguar-being gazed at him, surprised. "Someone else

would—and in fact has put over his own plan."

"With what consequences?" asked Modyun.

"Their ideas are wrong. Ours are correct."

"But what would actually happen?" Modyun persisted.

"The expedition would go to a bunch of yellow suns like

our own. The chances of finding life on planets of suns like

ours are less than on the planets of a blue sun. That's been

reasoned out."

Modyun, from his height wherein all such things were

equally futile, smiled again at the naive intensity of the re-

ply. "And suppose," he asked, "the expedition found no life

in either the yellow or the blue sun systems?"

"It would be a wasted trip."

He was not reaching the creature with his perfect logic.

Man had passed through such an intermediate stage himself;

had believed that success consisted of one result only.

Modyun shifted the emphasis of his questioning.

"On such a journey, would those who were along be com-

fortable?"

"Oh, yes. The ships are perfect—like great cities flying

through space."

"Would those aboard eat, sleep, be entertained, associate

with members of the opposite sex, have facilities for exercise

and education?"

"All of those things, of course."

"Then," asked Modyun triumphantly, "what will it matter

what the outcome is?"

"Because if we don't find other life, it will be a wasted

journey. These interstellar ships are fast, but we've been told

we're going to many planets and will be gone a long time. It's

too hard on the individual if the purpose is not achieved."

It seemed to Modyun that each person aboard would have

exactly the same kind of existence fail or succeed. Amused,

he shifted emphasis. "All right, suppose you find intelligent

life on another star system—what then?"

The jaguar-man was shaking his head. "You apes," he said,

"ask the damnedest questions. For God's sake, sir, that's what

it's all about, life is. Experiencing new things that mean

something."

Modyun was not yet to be diverted. 'Tell me," he pressed,

"how will you deal with alien beings if you find them?"

"Well-1-11—well have to work out a policy about that. It

will depend on how they react."

"Give me an example of policy."

The creature's expression changed. He looked frustrated, as

if he had had enough. "How would I know in advance!" he

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