Hal Clement - Cycle of Fire

“I don’t see what all that means.”

“It seems to mean that the ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ forms are completely alien types of life, which originally evolved independently. Each produced spores, or some equivalent, that were capable of surviving the unsuitable conditions.

“In the natural course of evolution some of them developed the trick of attaching or implanting their spores in the bodies of active animals of the other type — perhaps by arranging for them to be eaten, as some parasites on Earth still do.”

“But in that case you should be able to find the seeds, or whatever they are, in any of the creatures you examine. You said they were present in only one. How about that?”

“That’s where the lead from Earth came in. You may know that there are some types of virus whose natural prey are bacteria. The virus makes contact with the germ, penetrates its cell wall, and after a while a hundred or so new viruses emerge from the deflated remains of the bacterium.”

“I didn’t know that, but there seems nothing strange about it.”

“There isn’t, so far. However, it sometimes happens that after the virus enters the body of its victim the latter goes on living as though nothing had happened.”

“Still reasonable. There’s always a scattering of immunes in any population.”

“Let me finish. The bacterium lives out its time and divides in the usual fashion; its descendants do the same for ten or twenty or perhaps a hundred generations. Then, under the stimulus of radiation or chemicals or for no apparent reason at all most or all of the descendants of the original bacterium collapse — and clouds of virus particles emerge from the remains!”

“Eh?”

“Precisely. The original virus infected its first victim, all right, in such a way that the reproductive material of the virus was divided when that of the bacterium did the same and carried on to all the descendants of that first one. Eventually some change in conditions made them revert to their usual method of reproduction.”

“I see,” Burke said slowly. “You think that a similar ability has developed here — that every cell of a being like Dar Lang Ahn has in its nucleus the factors which will produce one of those starfish under the proper conditions.”

“Exactly, and yet the relationship is no more a parent-and-child one than that between Jack Cardigan and his pet canary. There’s a suspicion that the chloroplasts in earthly plants bear the same relation to them.”

“I don’t see what difference it makes, really.”

“In a way, it might justify the attitude of the ‘hot’ creatures toward Dar’s people.”

“Perhaps. However, nothing you’ve said eases my first worry, except your point that both forms have to die to reproduce. You’ve added one thing that bothers me more.”

“What’s that?”

“This business about the time in which adaptation to this climate has taken place. If you’re right, one at least of these races has evolved from a standing start to intelligence comparable with our own in something under ten million years. It took Earth a hundred times as long to do the job — maybe twice that. These things must be among the most adaptable life forms in the universe — and that’s the point where man has held the edge, so far.”

“You’re afraid, I take it, that if they get access to human technology they’ll spread out into the galaxy and start supplanting man?”

“Frankly, yes.”

“Just where would you expect them to settle?”

“For Heaven’s sake, man — anywhere! Earth — Mars — Mercury — any of fifty worlds where we can live, and as many more where we can’t! If they can’t stand them now they soon will — it’s that adaptability that has me worried. If we get into an argument with them how do we fight — how do you kill a creature that grows new arms and legs to replace the old, that produces a whole crop of descendants if you blow it to pieces with a bomb?”

“I don’t know and I don’t think it matters.”

“Why not?” Burke’s voice sounded almost strangled by his emotion.

“Because, while Dar Lang Ahn could live on Earth and a lot of other worlds, and his fire-blooded opposite numbers could do the same in a higher temperature range, as you justly point out, none of the planets you mentioned provides both temperature ranges. If a group of Dar’s people decides to migrate to Earth how will the ‘hot’ folks whose relatives are riding along with them like it? Dar undoubtedly wants descendants as much as one of us; how will he feel at the thought of the starfish which develop from his body moving to Vega Two, or Mercury? What happens to his kids, then? No, Commander, I realize that most of us have decided, pretty much without discussion, that the Teacher down there by the hot springs is an opinionated, narrow-minded, dictatorial old fuddy-duddy whose opinion isn’t worth the energy used to express it, but if you’ll think a bit longer you’ll realize that he’s more far-sighted than a lot of others I could name!”

Burke shook his head slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on the biologist.

“I had thought of that point long ago, Dr. Richter, and I suppose you’re right in thinking that that Teacher has done the same. I’m a little disappointed, however, that you have gone no farther.”

“How’s that?”

“Your point is well taken — only if these races lack technical knowledge! Dar won’t mind having the gene structures which are to produce his offspring spend a few years anywhere the starfish carrying them wants to — if he knows that eventually that creature will either travel to a planet where they can develop or park himself in a mechanical refrigerator to achieve the same end. Remember, those creatures will have the same desires as regards offspring, and they will have to cooperate with Dar’s race to satisfy them. If the natives of this planet get off it, on the basis of knowledge they’ve either picked up from us or acquired themselves, there’s going to be one of the most cooperative teams in history spreading through the star clouds — and man is going to take a back seat, if he survives at all.”

“It seems to me that that very cooperation would be a good example to the rest of us, if it happens. These races certainly aren’t very close to such a relationship right now.”

“No, and it’s to our interest to see that they never get there. I don’t like to do it any better than you do, or than young Kruger will, but I’m afraid the only thing we can reasonably do is prevent Dar Lang Ahn from taking the knowledge he has acquired back to his people. Unless we do that we’ve given them the galaxy.”

“You’re right — I don’t like it. How can we justify such a thing, after we ourselves have encouraged him to learn all he could?”

“We can’t justify it,” Burke said grimly, “but we’re going to do it. Sure, I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life, but in my considered judgment it is best for the human race that Dar Lang Ahn should not see his own people again.”

“I’m afraid you’re right, though it doesn’t make me any happier.”

“Nor me. Well, in common fairness we’d better tell him now. I’ll call a meeting of the entire group and let anyone with any other helpful data present it. That’s about as fair as I can be.”

“Young Kruger may not have data, but he’ll have objections.”

“I realize that. He doesn’t know what a favor I’ll be doing him.” The biologist looked sharply at the old officer, but Burke had nothing more to say.

DAR LANG AHN heard the biological report with only his usual interest, since such phrases as fluorinated hydrocarbons and silicones still meant very little to him. He did react, however, to Commander Burke’s announcement, and the reaction was not a mild one.