Clifford D. Simak

“ As West reached the bottom of the stairway a voice came out of the darkness:
"Are you looking for something, Mr. West?"
"Yes, Cartwright," said West. "I am looking for you."
"You must not be too concerned with what Rosie did," Cartwright said. "Don't let it upset you. Belden had it coming to him for a long time. He was scarcely one of us, really, never one of us. He pretended to go along with us because it was the only way that he could save his life. And life is such a small thing to consider. Don't you think so, Mr. West?" ”

“ Langdon, maybe. Langdon, who had been given away as a pet to a thing so monstrous that even Cartwright had shrunk from naming it.
With shaking hand, West put the bottle back on the mantel, placed the cork beside it. For a moment he stood there, hands against the mantel, gripping it, staring out the vision port beside the fireplace. Staring down into the valley where a shadowy cylinder tilted upward from the rocky planet, as if striving for the stars. ”

“ Crazy, thought West. Crazy as a pair of bedbugs. Crazy as the man who'd drunk himself to death out on Pluto's moon.
And yet, perhaps not so crazy.
"They have no mind," said Cartwright. "That is, no mind to speak of. Just a bundle of nervous reactions, probably without the type of sensory perceptions that we have, but more than likely with other totally different sensory perceptions to make up for it. Sensitive things. Music to them is an expression of sensory impressions. They can't help the way they sing any more than a moth can help killing himself against a candle-flame. ”

“ But most of all you cannot stand up in open meeting of government policy makers and point out that mutancy is no crime in itself ... that it only is a crime when it is wrongly used. Nor say that the world would be better off if it used its mutants instead of being frightened of them.
Of course, if one knew one was a mutant, one would never say a thing like that. And a mutant, knowing himself a mutant, never would point out a thing that was wrong with a rocket engine. For a mutant has to keep his mouth shut, has to act the mediocre man and arrive at the ends he wishes by complex indirection. ”

“ Maybe it was a mutation back in the Old Stone Age who struck two flints together and made himself a fire. Maybe another mutant who dreamed up a wheel and took a stoneboat and changed it to a wagon.
Slowly, he said, it would have to be slowly. Just a little at a time. For if it were too much, if it were noticeable, the other humans would kill off each mutation as it became apparent. For the human race cannot tolerate divergence from the norm, even though mutation is the process by which the race develops.
The race doesn't kill the mutants any more. ”

“ But West had dropped to a crouch almost as he spoke and now his own gun was in his fist, tilting up, solid in his hand. His thumb pressed the activator and then slid off.
Something dragged itself with heavy thumps across the floor and in the stillness between the bumps, West heard the rasp of heavy breaths.
"Damn you, West," said Cartwright. "Damn you...."
"It's an old trick, Cartwright," said West, "that business of talking to a man just before you kill him. Throwing him off guard, practically ambushing him." ”

“ And Nevin must still be out here on Pluto, must still be alive despite the message that had come to Earth.
But the painting didn't fit. Nevin wasn't an artist. He was a biologist, scarcely second to Darling.
The message of three years before had been a phony, then. There were men still on the planet.
And that meant, West told himself bitterly, that his own plan had gone awry. For Pluto was the only place in the Solar System where there would be food and shelter and to which no one would ever come. ”

“ The man who has it could rule the Solar System. That was what Belden had said about it.
Belden had hunted for it. Had torn this place apart. And Darling had hunted for it, too. Darling, who had thought he had it, who had played a trick on Nevin and Cartwright so he could be sure he had it, who had drank himself to death trying to find the bottle he had it in.
And all these years the hormones had been in this bottle on the mantel! ”

“ Very simple commands. And killing a man is so simple, Mr. West.
"Rosie stood here beside me and I knew every word that you and Belden said. I did not blame you, West, for you had no way of knowing what you did. But I did blame Belden and I sent Rosie up to get him.
"There's only one thing, West, that I hold against you. You should not have killed Rosie. That was a great mistake, West, a very great mistake."
"It was no mistake," said West. "I did it on purpose."
"Take it easy, Mr. West," said Cartwright. "Don't do anything that might make me pull the trigger. Because I have a gun on you. ”

“ Secrets the human race never has suspected. Remaking the human civilization almost overnight."
"And you," said West, "right at the center, pulling all the strings."
"So," said Cartwright.
"I want a few to pull myself."
Nevin held up his hand. "Just a minute, Mr. West. We would like to know just how—"
Cartwright laughed at him. "Forget it, Louis. He knew about your painting. He had Annabelle. Where do you suppose he found out?"
"But—but—" said Nevin.
"Maybe he didn't use a painting," Cartwright declared. "Maybe he used other methods. After all, there are others, you know. ”

“ Nevin changed the subject. "Shall we have Rosie sit with us?"
"Rosie?" asked West.
"Rosie is Stella's sister. We don't know the exact relationship, but we call her that for convenience."
"There are times," explained Cartwright, "when we forget her face and let her sit at the table's head, as if she were one of us. As if she were our hostess. She looks remarkably like a woman, you know. Those wings of hers are like an ermine cape, and that platinum hair. She lends something to the table ... ”

“ Hormones did funny things to people.
I should know, said West, talking to himself.
A little faster and a little quicker. A mental shortcut here and there. And you scarcely know, yourself, that you are any different. That's how the race develops. A mutation here and another there and in a thousand years or two a certain percentage of the race is not what the race had been a thousand years before. ”

“ The pyramid was built of bottles, hundreds of bottles that flashed and glinted as if with living fire, picking up and breaking up the misty light that filtered from the distant sun and still more distant stars. ”

“ You cannot point to a blueprint of a rocket motor and say, "There is the trouble," when men who are better trained than you cannot see the trouble. And you cannot devise a system of production that will turn out two rocket motors for the price of one in half the time. ”

“ The work of passing along the knowledge, the principles, the psychology of the alien things of otherwhere. Education by remote control ... involuntary education. Stella, the telepathic Stella, singing back on Earth, darling of the airways. And she was an agent for these things ... she passed along the knowledge and a man would think it was his own.
That was it, of course, the thing that Nevin and Cartwright had planned. Remake the world, they'd said. Sitting out on Pluto and pulling strings that would remake the world. ”

“ Five hundred years ago, thought West, they would not have found me out. Five hundred years ago I might not have realized the fact myself.
Controlled mutation? Now that was something different. That was the thing the government had in mind when it sent the commission here to Pluto, taking advantage of the cold conditions to develop hormones that might mutate the race. Hormones that might make a better race, that might develop latent talents or even add entirely new characteristics calculated to bring out the best that was in humanity. ”

“ And where the human race would be safe from him.
West turned around and found the path that led up the rocky decline toward the laboratory.
A hulking figure stepped out of the shadows and challenged him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
West halted. "Just got in," he said. "Looking for a friend of mine. By the name of Nevin."
Inside the pocket of his suit, he felt Annabelle stirring restlessly. Probably she was getting cold.
"Nevin?" asked the man, a note of alarm chilling his voice. "What do you want of Nevin?" ”

“ Across the table Louis Nevin apologized. "The damn things keep sneaking through all the time. I suppose, Mr. West, you have trouble with them, too."
"We tried rat traps," said Cartwright, "but they were too smart for that. So we get along with them the best we can."
West laughed to cover momentary confusion, but he found Nevin's eyes upon him.
"Annabelle," he said, "is the only one that ever bothered me."
"You're lucky," Nevin told him. "They get to be pests. There is one of them that insists on sleeping with me."
"Where's Belden?" Cartwright asked. ”

“ And the painting. How come you know about them?"
The eyes regarded him with drunken cunning.
"You'd have to do something for me. Couldn't give you information like that out of the goodness of my heart."
"Of course," agreed West. "Anything that you would like. You just name it."
"You got to take Annabelle out of here," the man told him. "Take her back where she belongs. It isn't any place for a girl like her. No fit life for her to lead. Living with a sodden wreck like me. Used to be a great man once ... yes, sir, a great man. It all came of looking for a bottle. One particular bottle. ”

“ West crouched close against the floor, huddling there, the muzzle of the gun resting on the carpet.
Outside ... outside ... outside....
The words hammered in his head.
Outside of what, he asked, but he knew the answer now. He knew where he had seen the picture of the thing that had slept in the chair and the other thing that squatted on the bedpost. And he knew the sound of chirping and of chittering and of running feet.
Outside ... outside ... outside.... ”