Earthsmith Part 8
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He wanted to consider himself as more than a mere projection of Earth, more than a mere symbol. He was of Earth, sure. But first of all he was Smith. Just plain Smith. A guy with a human spirit, with dignity that could be affronted and had been here.
He thought of Geria, of what that dream empathy had suggested. He felt her lips again, the softly curving line of her hips under the silver tunic to her knees, the yellow hair falling free to shoulders....
"Your decision, Smith of Earth," the Registrar's voice was louder.
"I'm not going back to Earth," said Smith softly. "Yet."
He watched Jorak slipping up the side of the wall, then rus.h.i.+ng out the exit.
Smith went to the exit too, then into the hall. He started walking down it, and the smile clung to his lips like an old memory.
From the monochromatic light harmonies playing softly from the walls, from the abstract gentleness of music that never stopped filtering through the gardens and over the mists of fountains, from the ever-coruscating and subdued twilight that surrounded the school--from these things, Smith extracted the tone of decadence, the static, hidebound turning of a wheel upon itself.
The women from Bortinot stared oddly at him as his bulk, high and broad pa.s.sed near. He heard their whispers ... "barbarian ... savage...."
His smile broadened. The cycle closed. Strange, how the old became decadent, and the young revolted and itself became sophisticated and sick, and the old became young again and the old values turned fresh and clear like a tree blooming out of winter's snow.
The sounds of voices died abruptly as Smith went in. Faces turned ...
Brandog of Hulpin with the albino skin like alabaster; Luog the young, green-skinned Pandenian ... varieties of form and color ... the white, pink, orange and green brows. But there was the sameness of inversion and static culture.
Mouths gaped as Smith strode up to the front of the cla.s.s room in transtellar history and looked curiously at the little man with the round gold face and green eyes that still blinked too much, and who, even now, smiled too much, too vacantly, as if he had been practicing a long time and had forgotten what it meant.
But Garnot of Jlob's smile was slightly strained now and his face had a pale look, under its sheath of gold.
"What a boorish intrusion," the instructor said. His voice got higher.
"The entire school knows of course, Earth of Smith...."
"Smith of Earth," Smith said softly.
"Whatever it is, the entire school knows that already you have disgraced yourself and your planet--which was to be expected. And that I have recommended your withdrawal from the school as an inferior student."
"And so," Smith said.
"Therefore, it should be obvious that you are not particularly welcome as a member of this cla.s.s. Surely you have not chosen to remain, and even if you have, it should be obvious that you will not be part of any cla.s.s of mine until you have successfully pa.s.sed certain tests, and have been kept under observation. Need I add that after you have taken these tests, we will not be expecting you to remain...."
Several students t.i.ttered.
"I'm going to talk now, Garnot of Jlob," Smith said. "You asked me questions earlier. Now I'm going to answer them."
"But I did not...."
"They're questions that should be answered, even though I'm not at all sure that there's enough free-thought here to grasp the real meaning of what I'm going to say."
"I did not tell you to talk."
"I'm Smith of Earth, and this is supposedly a free inst.i.tution. On Earth I wasn't accustomed to being told when I could talk, when I could listen, when I could think. You asked me once where Earth is. I'll tell you."
"But I do not care and...."
"Earth, interstellarly speaking, is a few pa.r.s.ecs from Sirius.
s.p.a.ceo-graphically speaking, it isn't very important where it is, not really. Historically, it was at the apex of civilized culture before Jlob ever existed except as a steaming carboniferous swamp peopled largely by a species of amphibian. Socio-psychologically, Earth is a few aeons ahead of the worlds so badly represented here."
"You have not been told to talk!" screamed Garnot of Jlob.
"But you are supposed to listen," Smith insisted. A gasp sounded through the room. "You asked what was the first interstellar event of importance. I'm going to tell you." He turned so that he was looking at the cla.s.s. "It wasn't the exodus from the prehistoric Sirian worlds to the first culture in the Denebian system. Nor was it the Sirian wars.
Those things didn't set the stage for Interstellar history. Interstellar history had already begun and grown old on the planet Earth, half a million years before...."
An intensity boiled up through the wick of Smith's body. "The question itself is shallow, meaningless in an academic sense. It was asked only to be answered in such a way as to reinforce egotistical concepts of culture. The most important event in Interstellar history was when men on the planet Earth developed speech perhaps, or some other event even long before that ... and started the scientific process that led finally to the most glorious epoch in history. And what was that? I can remember with pride the engravings of the first proud Earth s.h.i.+ps that blasted off for the Centaurian system aeons ago. And other pictures of the early days of the new Centaurian culture, and still others. Of discontent and over-population. And the migration to Sirius.
"Or even earlier, of the stern, thin-lipped face of Matthew Merkle whose tincan of a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p carved a loop in s.p.a.ce around the Moon--a satellite of Earth--and returned.
"You think of history in terms of challenge and response, and the earlier challenges were the most significant ones. It was harder to get a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p across a mere quarter of a million miles to the Moon then, than it is to send it, translight, to the farthest star today."
Garnot of Jlob was quivering. His face had a deep purplish cast.
Smith turned completely around, his back to the instructor.
"If you want the truth about interstellar history, my friends, come to Earth. That was where it started. That's where anything decent about it has remained. And I'm not at all sure that Earth isn't where it will end ... if it ever really ends."
Half way to the exit, he turned to Garnot of Jlob. "You can stop trying to use psi-power to make me shut up, you pompous phony."
Laughing softly, Smith went out and down the hall. Behind him he heard a loud coughing as though someone was choking.
The word had spread before him to the room where Sog-chafka of Wortan, and Kard of s.h.i.+lon, and the crowd waited. The two giants were on the mats and around the rows of up-circling benches, were the eager, hungry faces of the women of Bortinot. The Dominants, their lips moist and slightly open and their eyes s.h.i.+ny with antic.i.p.ation.
Geria stared at him, her body s.h.i.+fting slightly, her lips apart and her teeth s.h.i.+ning white, eyes glistening. He remembered how the kiss had been. He smiled at her. She seemed scornful now, a little sad, pitying, as he walked onto the mats.
"Ah, Earthsmith," boomed the instructor. His ma.s.sive blood-colored face was s.h.i.+ny as he stood there, muscles rippling and seething under the black uniform. Kard of s.h.i.+lon grinned. The spectators laughed as Smith tripped on the mat and almost sprawled.
Kard of s.h.i.+lon said, "I'm going to kill you, Earthsmith."
Smith said, "That's an odd way to express your elite tastes, Kard, but I can understand how you feel. Earth knew a lot of killing in its day."
To Sog-chafka, Smith said, "You accused me of using psi-power in Wortan fighting. It was kind of you to recommend clemency. However, I deny the accusation."
"He has psi-power," screamed Jorak of Gyra from the top bench. He shook green fists.
"You said only a few Earthmen had psi-power," Sog-chafka said.
"I didn't. I said it's never used on Earth. There's a difference."
"You said you...."
"Didn't use it," Smith said. "What psi-power you have, came from Earth.
We of Earth developed it. But it's been a long time since we have bothered with it. But though I'm a little bit rusty now, I'll show you--"
Earthsmith Part 8
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Earthsmith Part 8 summary
You're reading Earthsmith Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Stephen Marlowe already has 751 views.
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