Fantastic Stories Present the Galaxy Science Fiction Super Pack #1. Edgar Pangborn

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СКАЧАТЬ it will no longer do you harm. Incidentally, your phrase ‘telling the truth’ is almost meaningless. We answer all questions in the manner most completely understandable to you, within the framework of your language and your understanding, and of the understanding and knowledge of our Makers. In the objective sense, what we answer is not necessarily the Truth; it is merely the truest form of the answer that we can state in a manner that you can understand.”

      “And you’ll answer any question at all?” asked Bates in some excitement.

      “With one or two exceptions. We will not, for example, tell you how we may be destroyed.”

      Bates stood up and began pacing the floor. “Then whoever possesses you can be the most powerful man in the Universe!”

      “No. Only in this galaxy.”

      “That’s good enough for me!”

      “Jack,” said Farnum urgently, “let’s get out of here. I want to talk to you.”

      “In a minute, in a minute,” said Bates impatiently. “I’ve got one more question.” He turned to face the wall from which the disembodied voice appeared to emanate. “Is it possible to arrange it so that you would answer only one man’s questions—mine, for example?”

      “I can tell you how to arrange it so that I will respond to only your questions—for so long as you are alive.”

      “Come on,” pleaded Farnum. “I’ve got to talk to you right now.”

      “Okay,” said Bates, smiling. “Let’s go.”

      *

      When they were back in their ship, Farnum turned desperately to Bates. “Can’t you see what a deadly danger that machine is to us all? We’ve got to warn Earth as fast as we can and get them to quarantine this planet—and any other planets we find that have Oracles.”

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” said Bates. “You aren’t getting the chance to have the Oracle all to yourself. With that machine, we can rule the whole galaxy. We’ll be the most powerful people who ever lived! It’s sure lucky for us that you won the toss of the coin and we stopped here.”

      “But don’t you see that the Oracle will destroy Earth?”

      “Bushwah. You heard it say it can only destroy people who aren’t civilized. It said that it’s a spaceship, so I’ll bet we can get it to come back to Earth with us, and tell us how we can be the only ones who can use it.”

      “We’ve got to leave here right away—without asking it any more questions.”

      Bates shook his head. “Quit clowning.”

      “I never meant anything more in my life. Once we start using that machine—if we ask it even one question to gain advantage for ourselves—Earth’s civilization is doomed. Can’t you see that’s what happened to those other planets we visited? Can’t you see what is happening to this planet we’re on now?”

      “No, I can’t,” answered Bates stubbornly. “The Oracle said there are only a few thousand like him. You could travel through space for hundreds of years and never be lucky enough to find one. There can’t be an Oracle on every planet we visited.”

      “There wouldn’t have to be,” said Farnum. “There must be hundreds of possible patterns—all of them destructive in the presence of greed and laziness and lust for power. For example, a planet—maybe this one—gets space travel. It sets up colonies on several worlds. It’s expanding and dynamic. Then it finds an Oracle and takes it back to its own world. With all questions answered for it, the civilization stops being dynamic and starts to stagnate. It stops visiting its colonies and they drift toward barbarism.

      “Later,” Farnum went on urgently, “somebody else reaches the stars, finds the planet with the Oracle—and takes the thing back home. Can you imagine what will happen to these people on this world if they lose their Oracle? Their own learning and traditions and way of life have been destroyed—just take a look at their anarchic clothing and architecture. The Oracle is the only thing that keeps them going—downhill—and makes sure they don’t start back again.”

      “It won’t happen that way to us,” Bates argued. “We won’t let the Oracle get into general use, so Earth won’t ever learn to depend on it. I’m going to find out from it how to make it work for the two of us alone. You can come along and share the gravy or not, as you choose. I don’t care. But you aren’t going to stop me.”

      Bates turned and strode out of the ship.

      *

      Farnum pounded his fist into his palm in despair, and then ran to a locker. Taking out a high-power express rifle, he loaded it carefully and stepped out through the airlock. Bates showed clearly in his telescopic sights, still walking toward the Hall of the Oracle. Farnum fired at the legs, but he wasn’t that good a shot; the bullet went through the back.

      Farnum jittered between bringing Bates back and taking off as fast as the ship could go. The body still lay there, motionless; there was nothing he could do for the Oracle’s first Earth victim—the first and the last, he swore grimly. He had to speed home and make them understand the danger before they found another planet with an Oracle, so that they could keep clear of its deadly temptations. The Magellanic race could be outwitted yet, in spite of their lethal cleverness.

      Then he felt a sudden icy chill along his spine. Alone, he could never operate the spaceship—and Bates was dead. He was trapped on the planet.

      For hours, he tried to think of some way of warning Earth. It was imperative that he get back. There had to be a way.

      He realized finally that there was only one solution to his problem. He sighed shudderingly and walked slowly from the spaceship toward the Hall of the Oracle, past Bates’ body.

      “One question, though,” he muttered to himself. “Only one.”

      Dumbwaiter

      By James Stamers

       Antimony IX divers can’t be seen, of course ... but don’t have anything in mind when one of them is around you!

      *

      The man ahead of me had a dragon in his baggage. So the Lamavic boys confiscated it. Lamavic—Livestock, Animal, Mineral and Vegetable, International Customs—does not like to find dragons curled up in a thermos. And since this antipathy was a two-way exchange, the Lamavic inspectors at Philadelphia International were singed and heated all ways by the time they got to me. I knew them well.

      “Mr. Sol Jones?”

      “That’s right,” I said, watching the would-be dragon smuggler being marched away. A very amateur job. I could have told him. There are only two ways to smuggle a dragon nowadays.

      “Any livestock to declare, Mr. Jones?”

      “I have no livestock on my person or in my baggage, nor am I accompanied by any material prohibited article,” I said carefully, for I saw they were recording.

      The little pink, bald inspector with a charred collar looked СКАЧАТЬ