Damon Knight - Orbit 14

A few more of my parts fall off, but I don’t care so much anymore, ’cause all they were doing was slowing me down.

I hate to keep coming back to this, I know I sound like a broken record, but I like building bridges. It’s a real nice feeling to know that you took a job that nobody else wanted, and you did it, and you made something of it, besides.

I zip through the safety interlocks like they ain’t even there.

Know what? I get this beautiful dream sometimes where I live in this little cottage I find in a wire. I never come out.

And about faster than light, I hit Tulsa.

Here are all the answers—now what was the question?

Almost a generation has passed since a pollution-weary electorate gave its mandate to a revolutionary new political party—the Council of Molecular Biologists—and embraced its brave vision of a biologically engineered America. Yet even today there are superstitious people who believe that “God will punish man” for creating the made-to-order plants and animals we need to heal and transform our environment. Of course, superstition of this sort is rare. In fact, it is usually confined to an ignorant suspicion of experiments conducted by J. P. Holochwost, forty-sixth President of the United States and former molecular biologist who still finds time to “dabble a bit,” as he so aptly puts it. Our President’s recent part-time achievements include three quite promising biological contributions: 1) An erosion-resisting, bland-tasting, liver-colored, hybrid spinach with the aroma of well-cured soft cheese; 2) the sucker-mouthed petroleum whale—a mutant leviathan capable of subsisting entirely on a diet of oil spills—and also, unfortunately, of spouting huge clouds of carbon monoxide; 3) the armored berserker luminous devil elephant—more of a biological curiosity than a biological threat—although malicious rumors persist that the migrations of wild herds in evacuated areas of northern California have registered 8.3 on the Richter Scale.

Not so long ago, our precious lakes and rivers and coastal tidelands were fouled by unsightly masses of scumlike green algae. This condition was caused by the chemicals in household detergents which were discharged into drainage systems. Fortunately, molecular biologists have developed a mutant yeast as a substitute for the detergent chemicals which encouraged the growth of algae. This interesting, made-to-order yeast produces an important new enzyme. The metabolic action of this new enzyme has converted all scumlike green algae in the United States into flotillas of icebergshaped, luminous mountains of drifting golden mucus which make our precious lakes and rivers and coastal tidelands unnavigable, but algae-free.

Who would have guessed, even a few years ago, that the common lightning bug (sometimes known as the firefly) could be genetically modified to help rid us of the ubiquitous mosquito? Today, the tiny on-off blinks of mutated lightning bugs are a common sight on summer nights—each little flash of light signaling the electrocution of another pesky mosquito. It is interesting to observe these new insects performing the work for which they were designed; of course, it is imperative for the observer (or for anyone venturing outside at night) to first tape a ten-foot length of insulated copper wire alongside his or her spinal column, making certain that one bare end protrudes well above the head, and that the other trails and makes firm contact with the ground.

Even in ancient times, men used fermented beverages and euphorics to obtain occasional relief from stress. Today, plant geneticists continue to seek a satisfactory replacement for distilled beverages. (No grain-neutral spirits have been produced in the United States since a pair of fast-multiplying, baboon-faced hog locusts escaped from a classified project in Utah and neutralized the Corn Belt.) It is hoped that the much-maligned marijuana plant may serve as such a replacement. But attempts to “respectablize” cannabis sativa by cross-breeding it with well-accepted American plants have not been completely successful. A recent cross between cannabis sativa and the long-stemmed American Beauty rose produces lovely red blossoms that smell like marijuana, but when smoked, taste like smoldering bathroom deodorant.

Human life depends entirely on the well-being of the shallow covering of topsoil that blankets our earth. Yet in the past we shamefully abused this heritage. Chemical poisons, man-made fertilizers, and exploitive tillage practices came close to sterilizing irreplaceable agricultural lands, and proved especially inimical to the common earthworm. This lowly creature, almost extinct today, had the function of aerating the soil and fertilizing it by passing it through its digestive tract. Fortunately, geneticists have been able to develop a hardy, fast-growing variety of earthworm which seems to thrive on worn-out topsoil. This made-to-order earthworm has produced a dramatic change in the tillage practices of American farmers, who no longer use moldboard plows which would disturb the newly established earthworm colonies. It has also resulted in a dramatic change in the American diet, since most farmers are reluctant to practice farming while being chased by forty-foot omnivorous earthworms.

Today, biologists help maintain a natural balance of competing species by “building to order” any special predators that may be required. For instance, in order to control excess breeding by giant omnivorous earthworms, biologists have developed a new variety of robin. This mutant robin is an albino (white with pink eyes) and is unusually heavy-bodied (specimens exceeding 1,200 pounds are not uncommon). It can also be identified by its song, which differs from the common robin’s early-morning cry of “cheer up, cheer up” in that it only sings at night, making a sound that is often interpreted as the sobbing of dozens of small children consumed by uncontrollable grief. Perhaps because of its long roosting habit, this new predator has not proved completely effective in controlling the giant omnivorous earthworm. The scientific name of this unusual bird is Mobius ornithgigantus. It is popularly known as the slugabed robin, or the night-sobbing brunch bird.

An interesting competition between two widely separated teams of American plant geneticists may yet provide us with a substitute for the prohibitively expensive Christmas tree. (Commercial Christmas-tree production declined abruptly when North and South Dakota, Nebraska, Iowa, Kansas, Missouri, and Illinois were unexpectedly designated as a National Whooping Crane Swamp.) On the West Coast, experimenters have developed a fast-growing, mutated variety of mistletoe, which has some of the propagating characteristics of the common puffball. Its seed pod “explodes” upon ripening—propelling the seeds at surprisingly high velocities toward the tops of the trees where it prefers to grow. Eastern plant geneticists, not to be left behind, have also developed a mutant mistletoe. Its seeding mechanism is a matter of conjecture, but rumors persist that it is capable of propelling dart-shaped seeds at velocities which enable them to intercept the seeds of the Western variety before they can reach the treetops. Among Western plant geneticists, this interesting Eastern plant is known as the anti-mistle mistletoe.