Larry Niven - Footfall

“Not at all,” Arvid agreed. Dmitri said something harsh in Russian.

“Bad-worse,” Tashayamp said. “What does it mean, ‘bad’? Why is this bad?”

“I think they really don’t know, Mother,” John Woodward said. His voice held wonder, “They really don’t.”

“I was trying to tell you,” Dawson said.

“You keep out of it. You don’t know either,” John Woodward said. “Your kind never did.”

All of the snouts were talking at once until the Herdmaster trumpeted. They fell silent instantly.

“I keep telling you they don’t see things as we do,” Dawson said. His voice rang loudly in the silence. “John, they didn’t make these movies. They found them in Kansas, Remember that.” John Woodward interrupted him, then Canie started to say something—

One of the teachers trumpeted.

“Raztupisp-minz commands that you speak one at a time,” Tashayamp said.

“There are many meanings of good and bad,” Dawson began. The teacher said something else.

“Not to begin with you,” Tashayamp said. She pointed to the Russians. “What is bad about this?”

“Filth. Typical capitalist garbage for the mind,” Dmitri said. “Why does this surprise anyone? The capitalist system caters to anyone with money, and inevitably produces decadence.”

“It’s freedom of speech!” Dawson shouted. “I don’t like it, but I don’t have to. If we start shutting people’s mouths, where—”

“Not we,” Carrie Woodward said. “We’d lock up the people that peddle that filth if it wasn’t for you federal people. We had a nice, decent town until your judges and your laws came.”

The two teachers were both speaking at once until the Herdmaster intervened. Tashayamp spoke at length, obviously trailslating since she used several human words. What can they make of this? What do 1 make of it? Jeri wondered.

“You believe this bad,” Tashayamp said. “You, all, show digits extended if you believe bad.”

The Woodwards showed palms up held at arm’s length. Then the Russians. Jeri held her hand out. What do! believe? I don’t really want Melissa watching this stuff. She might get the wrong idea about what men and women are supposed to do. Women aren’t toys. Free speech and all that, but, yes, I guess I’d be happier if they still had laws against pornography. Less ammunition for perverts…

Dawson was the only holdout. Finally he raised his own hand.

“You agree this is bad?’ Tashayamp asked.

“I do, for children,” Dawson said. “I just don’t think we have the right to stop it.”

“Why bad for children?”

“It’s filth,” Carrie Woodward protested. “Not fit for anyone.”

“You do not-do these things?’ Tashayamp asked.

Jeri smothered a laugh. Came Woodward’s face turned beet red. “My Lord, no, we don’t do that, no one really does that.”

Well, in your world, maybe. My turn to blush…

“This is true? No one does these things?”

“Some do,” John Woodward admitted. “Decent people don’t. They sure don’t put it on film!”

“The word. Decent. Means what?” Tashayamp demanded.

“Means right-thinking people,” Carrie Woodward said. “People who think and act like they’re supposed to, not like some people I know.”

Tashayamp translated. There was more discussion among the fithp.

“We’ve got to be careful,” Wes Dawson said. “Lord knows what ideas they’re getting—”

“None they shouldn’t have, Congressman,” Carrie Woodward said firmly.

“They don’t think like us. You’ve seen the toilets, haven’t you? Look, we all have to give them the same story,” Dawson insisted.

“Say little.” Dmitri said in Russian. Jeri was surprised that she could still understand. It has been a long time…

Evidently Dawson had understood that, too. “Right. Best they don’t find out too much.”

Find out what? That we don’t act the way we want to? That’s the very definition of human — “you explain this,” Tashayamp demanded. “How many humans do bad things?”

“All of them,” Jeri blurted. “Capitalists,” Dmitri said. “Commies,” Woodward retorted.

“All humans do bad things?” Tashayainp demanded. “All do what they know they must not do? Tell me this.”

They all began speaking at once.

Jeri sat against the wall with Melissa. She wasn’t really part of the discussion Wes Dawson was having with the Russians, but she was too close to ignore it.

“Perhaps we have told them too much,” Dmitri said.

Dawson said, “It’s better if they understand us—”

“What you call understanding a military man would call intelligence information,” Arvid Rogachev said.

“What can it hurt? Arvid, you’ve been helping them with their maps!”

“They show me maps and globes. I nod my head, and tell them names for places. This is not your concern.”

“It’s my concern if you side with the fithp. Look, Arvid, you’ve seen what they’ve done. Destruction and murder—”

“I understand war. I—”

“But do you understand what they could have done? They came here with a mucking great asteroid, and we’re still moored to it. Suppose they’d come with the same size asteroid, but a metal one. Hundreds of billions of dollars worth of metals. Now they negotiate. Trade metals for land, for concessions, for information, anything they want. They could buy themselves a country. If we won’t play, even if we buy the metals and don’t pay their bills, they’ve still got their mucking great asteroid to drop!”

Dmitri Grushin was nodding, grinning. “What a pity. They don’t understand money. They are not capitalists. That’s your complaint, Dawson.”

And who cares? They’re going to smash the Earth. At least they decided they wouldn’t make the children watch Deep Throat and those other tapes. Jeri recalled going to a theater to see Deep Throat. Stupid. But they’ve put us all together, and now there are three more men to watch me use the toilet.

John and Carrie Woodward stayed near Jeri, as far from the Russians as possible, but it wasn’t far enough. They could still hear. They kept Gary with them.

They’ve got a problem. But we’re going to have to get along with the Russkis—

Jeri said, “Carrie, did you notice that you and John sounded a lot like the Russians?”

“Yeah,” John Woodward said. “I noticed. They’re for decency. Not like Dawson. He’d excuse anything—”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“There are things people can do, and things they can’t do,” Carrie Woodward said. “Isn’t that what insanity means? Can’t tell right from wrong?”

“No.” Alice was across the room, far enough away that they’d nearly forgotten her. “It wasn’t why I was in Menninger’s.”

“Why were you there?”

“None of your business. I was afraid all the time.”

“Of what?’ Carrie Woodward asked.

Alice looked away.

Dawson looked over at them. The Woodwards wouldn’t meet his eyes. Carrie continued to talk to Jeri as if Dawson were not there.

“Don’t tell me you never wanted to be better than you are,” Carrie Woodward said. “Everyone wants to be better than they are. Jt’s what it means to be human.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jeri said. “We don’t do the things we think we should, and we do things we’re ashamed of-what was it, in the Book of Common Prayer? We have done those things we ought not to have done, and we have left undone those things we ought to have done, and there is no health in us.’ People have wanted to do the right thing for most of history.”

“But nobody really knows what right and wrong are,” Dawson protested.

“Sure they do,” Jeri said. “C. S. Lewis saw that well enough. Most of us know what’s the right thing, at least most of the time. The problem is we don’t do it. That’s how we’re different from rocks. They don’t have any choice about obeying the laws. They do what they have to do. We do what we want. We sound like an undergraduate bull session.”