Manly Bannister

“ If you've ever seen a stage play, you'll understand what I mean. Everything about a stage play is phoney. You watch the play, knowing it isn't real. The scenery and backdrop are just painted imitations. ”

“ Spliid looked at him in such a way Rowley felt his sanity was being weighed.
"Suppose you were a native of Hume, and some alien beings came along. You could read their minds. You'd know right off they wouldn't recognize you as a life-form like themselves. They might move right in and destroy you without knowing it, and you would be unable to defend yourself. That was actually the situation on Hume, and we were the aliens. So the natives pretended they were a type of life-form we want to protect." ”

“ Spliid's voice sounded worried. "I hate this, Cliff. Your talents can be valuable to the Corps. We deal in cubic parsecs of space and aeons of time. It takes more than ordinary reasoning power to cope with it."
"I believe you mean it," Rowley said.
"I do. So what's Hume? One world in millions."
Rowley's switched him off. He bit his lip. It was Galethsurv's purpose to make single, cohesive sense out of the patch-work, and tatterdemalion shreds of human culture that had been systematically turned up in the galaxy. Where did the culture of Hume fit into that overall pattern? ”

“ Rowley groaned. "We've only been here three months!"
"Eleven men in the field, Cliff. You're the odd ball. Everybody else is satisfied. Hume is only a step above savagery in culture. Top rating is satisfied. I don't like the conflicting picture of it, myself, but...."
"Nor I," Rowley stabbed. The look in his hazel eyes hardened.
"You wouldn't," Spliid said calmly, "even without seeing the reports. You're a percie, Cliff—our only psi-sensitive on Hume. But you've got to do a lot more than you've done yet to impress top rating. They're keener on the things you can't do than the things you can." ”

“ Hume would vanish from their lives forever.
"I assume," he said, "that Hume is now officially closed."
Spliid nodded. He fixed questioning gray eyes on Rowley.
"Good," said Rowley. "That's the way it will always be."
"Always?" Spliid fumbled with his pipe. "For our life-times, maybe...."
"Always," Rowley repeated. He drew on his pipe, enjoying the luxury of keeping the Commander's curiosity at bay. "Human beings have no place on Hume. I found that out the day after you dropped in on me. That's why I made no reports. ”

“ Rowley hesitated. "Hume has been classified a closed world. I think that's what they want. If this world had been uninhabited when Exploration turned it up, Colonisation would be surveying it now for settlement. If the population had a civilization above Class G, we'd be arranging to bring them up to the technological level of the rest of the galaxy. But we shut a two X sub one world away from contact with the galaxy to avoid disturbing the natural progress of the natives. How many thousands of years before Hume will be ready? Somehow, I feel they know more about us than we think they do ... ”

“ But they were enough to rob the play of its semblance of reality.
"Tsu, Smarin, Torl ... even the village itself ... were all imaginary—not something we thought we saw, but solidified mental projections of the thoughts the natives had gleaned from our minds."
"I'm just beginning to see the real value of your talents, Cliff."
"Thanks," Rowley acknowledged briefly. "If we have the right to exclude inferior cultures from contact with us, a superior culture must certainly have an equal right to exclude us from contact with theirs." ”

“ Human beings. They are born; they grow up; they die. Human culture is built around the processes of living and dying. Our beliefs and actions stem from those facts—that we live and that we die. We are emotionally affected by them. Sometimes, we know great happiness. Then we remember that we die, and we suffer sorrow. I have seen no sadness in your village. ”

“ Spliid's eyes alerted. "A what?"
Spliid relaxed. "I think I know what you mean. Go on."
Rowley drew heavily on his pipe. A brooding look shadowed his lean face.
"I learned about Yanek then. I learned about Tsu and Smarin and Torl and all the rest of them. If we weren't such damned prudes, Commander, and I had flipped a sarong sooner, we'd have found everything out long ago. You've heard about the sinner who was told he could remain in Heaven only on condition he could pick Adam out of the crowd? He chose the only man he could find ... without a navel."
"Maybe they lay eggs," Spliid suggested. ”

“ Spliid agreed drily.
"I knew they wanted to get rid of us," Rowley went on earnestly. "I could feel it. But why? Most inferior races we run against want contact with the galaxy...."
"They want refrigerators and washing machines, tractors, railroad trains and automobiles," Spliid interrupted. "If we gave them, their culture would go to pot in a generation. There's a reason for our methods."
"A lot of little things about Hume didn't jibe," Rowley continued. "Bathrooms, for instance." ”

“ He made a wry grimace, half humorous.
"Of course, we grow trees for fruit, for shade and beauty, to cut down and make lumber for houses...."
She drew away from him, rigid, trembling.
"You cut down trees!"
He hadn't meant to make that slip. He knew her feeling for trees. Her look accused him.
"I don't understand your attitude," he said lamely.
"Nor do I understand yours." She brooded silently. "It is different, I suppose, on other worlds. The trees are different."
They sat in the lush grass, on the hillside below his tent. ”

“ It takes a lot of rehearsal to make a good play, Cliff."
For a long time after the pilot boat drifted down from the upper air and whispered away toward the stars with Commander Spliid, Rowley stood brooding, looking down into the pool of shadows hiding the village.
Stage play. Actors. What happens to the scenery when the audience goes home? Rowley shrugged and went to bed.
In the morning, Rowley stirred together an unpalatable breakfast, then went down into the village. The natives were already stirring. Children ran in the grassy streets. ”

“ Spliid wanted to know.
"Mental projection. After the directors of the play read our minds, they tried to reproduce what they found there. They slipped on the points I mentioned, because those things meant little or nothing to them. ”