Айзек Азимов - Before The Golden Age

“We will go,” I exclaimed. “We will go, but we will return and carry you all to Ame.”

In a few words I outlined my plan and Moka, Hama and Olua enthusiastically agreed to it. I don’t think that any of the three expected me to succeed but the fact that Awlo and I would be safe was the thing that was uppermost in their loyal minds. In a few minutes we were on the roof and I was examining the Fokker prior to taking off. Satisfied with my inspection, Awlo and I went the rounds of our subjects to say farewell. Our plan had been told to them and man after man, the brave fellows thrust forward their gun butts for me to touch and knelt at Awlo’s feet. To each of them we gave a hearty hand clasp and then, with only the three Alii in attendance, we ascended to the roof to take our departure. At the last moment I suggested that Olua accompany me to help me with the adjuster but he objected on the grounds that his knowledge would be needed to ward off the next attack. Moka dropped on one knee with the tears suspiciously near overflowing in his blue eyes.

“Farewell, my lord; farewell, my lady,” he said. “It is the best end to die bravely for those we love.”

“Die, nothing!” I exclaimed. “I’ll be back here in five hours at the outside to take you all to Ame and safety.”

“If it be so written,” he replied, “but if not, remember ever, my friends, that Ulm was loyal to the last.”

Awlo was sobbing openly and the tears were coming into my own eyes, so I brusquely put my princess into the plane and took the controls. Olua spun the propeller and the little craft soared into the air and at her best speed flew to the west toward the Kau mountains.

In two hours we were over the mountains and I was searching for my adjuster. At last I saw it and on a long slope we glided down toward it. We were within a hundred yards of the ground when the sun suddenly darkened and a terrific gust of wind turned the ship completely over. I strove to right it, but we were too close to the ground and in the semi-darkness, we crashed. I staggered to my feet and found that neither of us had been more than badly shaken by the fall.

As we climbed free from the wreck, the wind nearly carried us from the ground while crashes which shook the earth came from all around us. The sun was still partially obscured and I looked up and saw a marvel. Through the air were flying rocks the size of mountains, some of them apparently miles in diameter. They were flying toward the east and I realized that some of them must be falling on or near Kaulani.

“The kahumas! The giants!” cried Awlo.

“Kahumas, nothing!” I replied. “I don’t know what it is, but it is no witchcraft.”

As I spoke, another blast of wind came and again the sun was darkened. When it cleared, more of the huge masses of rock were flying through the air. One boulder, which must have weighed a million tons, fell not over two miles from us.

“Quick, Awlo!” I gasped. “Come with me!”

I grasped her hand and we raced for the adjuster. The only defence against such masses of rock was to increase our size until they were small in comparison to our bulk. We entered the machine and I turned the speed control to maximum, at the same time setting an automatic stop I had put on my new model, which would halt our increase when I arrived at my normal six feet. My hand reached for the increasing switch when a fresh cloud of rock masses came hurtling through the air, this time falling to the west of us. One of them struck the mountain above us and started a slide. I looked up and saw thousands of tons of rock rushing madly toward us. Awlo gave a cry of despair and fear but before they reached us, my hand closed on the switch and I pulled downward with all my strength.

I stepped from the adjuster and faced with clenched fists a grizzled old prospector, who lay on the ground where he had been thrown by the adjuster, as it had grown almost instantaneously to its original size.

“What do you mean by digging here and killing my friends?” I demanded hotly. “This is private property.”

“Taint so on the map,” he retorted as he rose. “It’s a public domain and I reckon a man can prospect where he pleases. Where in hell did you come from?”

Without bothering to answer him, I hastily pulled the adjuster to one side. Under where it stood was piled dirt that that wretched fool had thrown and the weight of the adjuster had packed it smooth. Ulm, Ame, Kau; all were gone; buried under what was to them miles on miles of rock.

“Where did you come from?” demanded the prospector again as he dusted off his knees. “You weren’t here a minute ago!”

“I came from a better land than you’ll ever see,” I replied grimly. “Hand me your shovel for a moment.”

I took his tool and reached in and changed the speed of the adjuster to slow and closed the reducing switch. Sadly I watched it as it shrunk down to nothing and vanished from our sight. When it disappeared, I turned to Awlo, ignoring for the moment the ancient prospector who had watched the proceedings with dropping jaw and eyes as big as saucers.

“Farewell, Awlo, Sibimi of Ulm,” I said solemnly. “My dear, you have lost forever your royal title but you have gained another fully as honorable, if it is slightly less exclusive.”

“What do you mean, Courtney?” she asked.

“I mean that through the action of God and this ignorant agent of his, the Empire of Ulm had ceased to exist. You have ceased to be Awlo, Sibimi of Ulm, and will henceforth have to content yourself with being Mrs. Courtney Edwards, citizen of the United States of America.”

When I reread “Submicroscopic” and “Awlo of Ulm,” I was made very uneasy by the touches of racism it contained. The thought crossed my mind that I ought to try to edit them out, but, you know, I can’t do that. Once I started tampering with stories, where would I stop?

The trouble is that racial stereotypes, unfavorable to everyone but white men of northwest European extraction, were completely accepted and, indeed, scarcely noted in those days of only forty years ago (except perhaps by members of the groups victimized thereby).

I’m sure the readers of that day were not particularly disturbed by the fact that the brave and chivalrous people of Ulm were blond, white people; and that so was the Earthman hero. (That hero is rich, athletic, and the kind of square-shooter who longs to kill ants for sport, and who does kill an inoffensive deer the instant he sees it, even though he is not hungry at the time and has no intention of eating it.) The one member of the Ulm group who is villainous is, of course, swarthy in complexion.

The chief villains in “Submicroscopic,” however, are the Mena, who are black, brutal, disgusting, and cannibalistic. In “Awlo of Ulm” the villains are the men of Kau, who are intelligent and scientifically advanced, but who are yellow in color and very, very cruel. This picture of the savage Black (given in almost every adventure story dealing with the far corners of the world, from Robinson Crusoe on) and the cruel Oriental (remember Fu Manchu and Ming the Merciless) was drummed into young heads until it became second nature.

Indeed, when my storytelling friend of 1928 told his tales of derring-do, the band of heroes he invented included both a Black and an Oriental, each with a full and insulting list of stereotypical characteristics. Neither he nor I knew there was anything wrong in that.

That we have come as far as we have in forty years is hopeful, though I believe it is more through the fact that Hitler’s excesses made racism poisonous to any humane individual than through our own virtue. That we have much farther to go even now is incontestable.

The stories also include naïvetés of drama characteristic of the adventure stories of the day. There is the love at first sight, the princess who accepts a strange adventurer as her husband, and who threatens, “One step nearer and I will sheath this weapon in my heart!” (I had to read that line twice to make sure it was there.)