4. When Machines Fail
Thanks to the spade work Kung Su had done in preparing hypno-recordings, Griffin had a working knowledge of the Rational People's language eleven days later when he sat down to drink herb infused hot water with Joe and other Old Ones in the low-roofed wooden building around which clustered a village of two hundred humanoids. He fidgeted through interminable ritualistic cups of hot water. Eventually Joe hid his hands in the sleeves of his robe and turned with an air of polite inquiry. Now we get down to business, Griffin thought.
"Joe, you know by now why we're digging up your bottom land. We'll recompense you in one way or another. Meanwhile, could you give me a little local history?"
Joe smiled like a well nourished bodhisattva. "Approximately how far back would you like me to begin?"
"At the beginning."
"How long is a year on your planet?" Joe inquired.
"Your year is eight and a half days longer. Our day is three hundred heartbeats longer than yours."
Joe nodded his thanks. "More water?"
Griffin declined, suppressing a shudder.
"Five million years ago we were limited to one planet," Joe began. "The court astronomer had a vision of our planet in flames. I imagine you'd say our sun was about to nova. The empress was disturbed and ordered a convocation of seers. One fasted overlong and saw an answer. As the dying seer predicted the Son of Heaven came with fire-breathing dragons. The fairest of maidens and the strongest of our young men were taken to serve his warriors. We served them honestly and faithfully. A thousand years later their empire collapsed leaving us scattered across the universe. Three thousand years later a new race of barbarians conquered our planets. We surrendered naturally and soon were serving our new masters. Five hundred years passed and they destroyed themselves. This has been the pattern of our existence from that day to this."
"You mean you've been slaves for five million years?" Griffin was incredulous.
"Servitude has ever been a refuge for the scholar and the philosopher."
"But what point is there in such a life? Why do you continue living this way?"
"What is the point in any way of life? Continued existence. Personal immortality is neither desirable nor possible. We settled for perpetuation of the race."
"But what about self-determination? You know enough astronomy to understand novae. Surely you realize it could happen again. What would you do without a technology to build spaceships?"
"Many stars have gone nova during our history. Usually the barbarians came in time. When they didn't--"
"You mean you don't really care?"
"All barbarians ask that sooner or later," Joe smiled. "Sometimes toward the end they even accuse us of destroying them. We don't. Every technology bears the seeds of its own destruction. The stars are older than the machinery that explores them."
"You used technology to get from one system to another."
"We used it, but we were never part of it. When machines fail, their people die. We have no machines."
"What would you do if this sun were to nova?"
"We can serve you. We are not unintelligent."
"Willing to work your way around the galaxy, eh? But what if we refused to take you?"
"The race would go on. Kung Su tells me there is no life on planets of this system, but there are other systems."
"You're whistling in the dark," Griffin scoffed. "How do you know if any of the Rational People survive?"
"How far back does your history go?" Joe inquired.
"It's hard to say exactly," Griffin replied. "Our earliest written records date back some seven thousand years."
"You are all of one race?"
"No, you may have noticed Kung Su is slightly different from the rest of us."
"Yes, Griffin, I have noticed. When you return ask Kung Su for the legend of creation. More hot water?" Joe stirred and Griffin guessed the interview was over. He drank another ritual cup, made his farewells and walked thoughtfully back to camp.