Judith Merril - The Year's Greatest Science Fiction & Fantasy 6

J. G. was actually glad to leave the ship and go with Quimble, who seemed much friendlier than the Explorer; but when they reached the end of the pier and he saw the hundreds of Jungle Creatures hurrying in all directions at once, each seemingly impelled by some private crisis, he had a moment’s doubt. However, he followed Quimble into the crowd and was relieved to find that, as long as he remembered not to walk round-shouldered, no one paid the slightest attention to him.

Quimble lived in a clearing in the Jungle called the Campus. The Jungle Creatures sent their Young to the Campus to be taught How to Get Along in the World. The ones who were not able to learn How to Get Along in the World remained on the Campus, became Professors and taught other younger creatures How to Get Along in the World. It was a remarkable system and very effective, in that it invariably produced a surplus of Professors.

Quimble showed J. G. to a room in the basement of his home, which he called his laboratory, and brought him a crate of vegetables for supper. J. G. was grateful and determined to find out How Things Were so he wouldn’t displease Quimble and lose his friendship, as he had the Explorer’s.

Like the Explorer, Quimble also had games he wanted to play with J. G.; only his games involved round holes, square pegs, mazes, and ink blots, and were called Tests.

“I shall use your reactions to establish final proof for my theory, the Quimble Theory,” he said. “By observing and confining myself only to factual evidence, I shall be able to arrive at an irreversible and inflexible conclusion. That is the Scientific Method.”

J. G. was quite impressed. He asked Quimble what his Theory was.

Quimble’s thin face broke into a wide smile. It was the first time anyone had ever asked him this. He hurried over to J. G. and patted his head. “I am explaining it in a three-hundred-thousand-word paper,” he said confidentially, “which will be titled, The Opposed Thumb—the Principal Reason that Man is Superior to the Apes.”

J. G. looked at his thumb and asked what it was opposed to.

“Nothing,” said Quimble, rubbing his hands together. “You see it is much too high up on the forearm. It is not opposite the fingers and is, therefore, incapable of grasping; as is my thumb, for instance.”

J. G. looked at Quimble’s thumb.

“Ah,” said Quimble. “It’s too bad you are merely an un-evolved brute. I could explain it clearly if you could talk.”

J. G. thought about this for a while and then cautiously asked why he was not able to talk.

“Because you are a Gorilla, and it has been observed that Gorillas cannot speak, and what has once been proven is fact. That is the Scientific Method,” Quimble said.

J. G. asked if this was How Things Were and Quimble said, “Of course, of course, of course.” But he had lost interest in the conversation and was busy measuring J. G.’s feet. Before evolving his Theory, Quimble had devoted thirty years to a study of the psychology of Mice. He had constructed a complicated maze and would release mice at one end and see how long it took them to reach the cheese which he placed at the other end. As they became more adept at negotiating the maze, he introduced discouraging features such as metal plates, which gave them shocks, and barriers to climb. Later he tested their determination by striking at them with a sawed-off broom handle as they attempted to reach the food. He didn’t learn much, but he got rid of a surprising number of mice; for which he received an Award from the Rockefeller Institute.

The next day Quimble began giving J. G. a series of tests, which, remembering his experience with the Explorer, J. G. made sure that Quimble won. After every test Quimble appeared highly gratified. He would chuckle, take a drink of celery tonic and give J. G. a banana. Then he would gather up his notes and go upstairs, leaving J. G. alone.

During these periods when he was left alone, J. G. made a tremendous advance in his education. He learned to read. Once he had mastered the basic technique, he found that he was able to assimilate a great deal of information—an entire book, in fact—in a surprisingly short time. This was, no doubt, due to the fact that his small brain was so empty it offered no resistance to outside ideas. Of the number of books Quimble had lying about the laboratory, J. G. found that he enjoyed the ones on mathematics best; and, by the time Quimble announced that the Tests were completed, he had re-read Principia Mathematica four times with increasing pleasure.

Quimble had transcribed the results of his tests in a large ledger. Under the heading, “Positive and Final Proof for the Quimble Theory,” he had written:

At last I can say without fear of contradiction that the Quimble Theory is correct in all respects. With Subjects non-opposed thumb, it is impossible for him to manipulate or even pick up a simple device such as a cigarette lighter, or an automatic rifle. This precludes any possibility of his species ever developing civilization or culture on the high level made possible by Man’s opposed thumb.

The non-opposed thumb even makes it impossible for Subject to adjust to civilization as it is now established. When given at random a camera, a drill press and a typewriter, he was forced to operate all three devices with his feet. Under ordinary non-test conditions he would be wearing shoes and would therefore be completely helpless.

q. e. d.

And under the heading, “Uncorrected Evidence,” he had written:

Subject likes bananas. Significant???

Quimble was so proud of the result of the Tests that he invited a group of his colleagues to study J. G. The Colleagues, who were called Runcible, Rangle, Bypod and Partridge, inspected J. G.

And vice versa.

As none of the colleagues had any interest in Quimble’s Theory, they paid no attention to his conclusions and so agreed with him completely. With the exception of Partridge. It happened that Partridge was writing a Paper of his own entitled, The Malformed Larynx—the Principal Reason that Man is Superior to the Apes.

He engaged Quimble in argument.

“You can see for yourself,” he said to Quimble, “due to his malformed larynx he is unable to speak. That is what makes him inferior. His thumb is irrelevant...”

“The superior thumb of man has enabled him to develop the culture that led to the necessity for inventing language,” said Quimble.

“Thumb-schmumb,” said Partridge. “There’s nothing wrong with his thumb. He certainly exhibits more manual dexterity than you.”

“I have proven in my Paper that—”

“Can you peel bananas with your feet?”

“Thumbs are not on the feet.”

“His are,” said Partridge triumphantly. “He is four times as capable as you.”

“Bah!” said Quimble and left to spread rumors that Partridge was having incorrect relations with his forty-six-year-old secretary. Partridge also left to spread a report that Quimble had been seen at a Meeting attended by a Communist in 1949. This was the accepted method of debate used by Professors.

Runcible, Rangle and Bypod finished the rest of the cheap canapés Quimble had provided, inspected J. G. once again, agreed with each other that Quimble and Partridge were intellectual dilettantes and went home to work on their Theories.

The episode left J. G. feeling depressed, which is even harder for a Gorilla to feel than Unhappy. He knew his new friend, Quimble, was angry, but he didn’t know why. He felt it had something to do with How Things Were and wished he were not so subhuman and Retrogressive. He wished he knew what Retrogressive meant. He made a note to spend more time improving his vocabulary. He noticed that he was starting to shed.