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Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
As I approached, Baiel began to address them.
"The sun god sends you these because of your obedience to his
ways. Through me—through Baiel, the high priest—he makes you
promise of even greater gifts than this, if your faith continues."
The tribal chanting arose in ecstacy. The old priest knelt at Baiel's
feet, offering up a chunk of glacial ice in token of brother glacier's
submission.
"There is one all-powerful god!" Baiel cried. "Only one. And I, Baiel, I
am his priest."
"All-powerful; the only one," the villagers responded.
It was at that point that I intervened. The tribe stared at me in
bewilderment. I took one of the heaters and dismantled it.
"This was made by men," I explained. "By men like yourselves. See,
this is no more than a substance like the hard veins of metal you find
in your rocks. In time you can learn to make these as we do."
For a quarter of an hour I talked, patiently repeating and
demonstrating the facts. But still their eyes were glazed with
bewilderment and the ghosts of hidden fears. Since they had no
understanding of the processing of ore, how could I explain away the
appearance of the supernatural? Even when I disassembled the
machine, I proved nothing except that I was tinged with godhood
myself.
Baiel stood smirking, saying nothing. When I turned on him in anger,
he said quietly:
"Earthmen understand reason, Theusaman." It was the first time he
had dropped my title, and he did so intentionally. "These animals—
this amusing burlesque of real men—I'm afraid you ask too much of
them."
"I ask nothing but their right to survive and evolve, as we did."
"But they can't. Haven't you learned that yet?"
Still smiling, he slid off the pile of rock and went into the cave. I
followed him. One by one, the members of the expedition gathered
around us. Slowly fifteen women and six men grouped themselves
behind Baiel. The rest of the Earthmen were with me. Baiel was
outnumbered and most of his people were unarmed, but they faced
us with a peculiarly firm kind of confidence.
"I think it's time we had an understanding," I said. "I'm still in
command here, Baiel, and—"
"In command? Of a ship that will never fly again, and an expedition
that can never return to Earth? In another ten years, Theusaman, the
glacier will have moved over the Olympus. It will be ground into
dust."
"That's hardly the point."
"It writes finale to the past. It means this planet is ours—it must be—
whether we want it or not."
"Ours, and theirs, Baiel."
He threw back his head and laughed. "In the Academy, Theusaman,
we're taught to face reality, not to romanticize it. This tribe is semi-
human, if you like; I'm charitable enough to grant that. But they aren't
men, any more than the primitive species on the Earth were men.
Observe the skull of your—your bride, if you will; observe the idiocy
in her vacant eyes; observe—"
"This is man as he was, Baiel! You pointed that out to me yourself."

"On the contrary, I was simply discussing the Bonn Hypothesis. I

never said I believed it. On the Earth, Theusaman, before true man
appeared, nature created a number of semi-men—homo-failures,
you might say. They weren't men; they grew to the limits of their
physical potential, but they never achieved human rationality. At the
end of the Earth's ice age, the continents were widely populated by
the last of nature's failures. Then, abruptly—we've never known
where he originated, or how—man himself came on the scene.
Overnight he wiped out the half-men and took over the planet. Man
has come here, now, Theusaman; these failures will survive only so
long as we need them. At the moment, they constitute a convenient
labor force. A handful of us can control them by controlling their
gods."
I drew my Hayden. "As I said, Baiel, I'm still in command of this
expedition."
He shrugged. "You've out-Haydened me, naturally; any Ranker
could. If I reach for mine, you'll burn me where I stand."
"I'm glad you understand that. Give me your weapons—you, Baiel,
and all your followers. Make any excuse you like to the tribe. You'll
never have an activated Hayden again, for hunting or any other
purpose."
Without resistance, they allowed themselves to be disarmed. I pulled
the charges on all their weapons and negativized them.
"You settle everything so smoothly," Baiel laughed. "Next, of course,
you'll propose a—"
I cut him short. "All the expedition is here in the cave with us. They
all understand the differences between Baiel's objectives and mine.
The issue is clear enough for a vote." Slowly the hands went up. I
counted twenty-two in Baiel's faction, more than thirty in my own.
"So typical!" Baiel snorted. "So much like an Earthman! The will of
the majority—our universal cure-all for all things."
"You agree to abide by it, Baiel?"
His eyebrows arched in a mocking imitation of surprise. "Can an
Earthman do anything else, Captain?"
"So that we won't have a repetition of this morning's episode," I said,
"I'm giving this order: None of us will return to the Olympus again for
any reason without my consent. If it is violated, I'll take disciplinary
action under the terms of the Space Code."
There was a mutter of agreement, primarily from my faction, and the
angry meeting broke up. Nothing had been settled, except the
division of the expedition into two camps. We never worked together
again in harmony. Since Baiel's group was unarmed, their greatest
potential danger seemed to be gone; yet the village tension
persisted.
Baiel could no longer use his Hayden to make a spectacular display
of the power of the sun god; slowly the old priest began to reassert
the cult of brother glacier. It seemed to me that Baiel encouraged the
change; certainly he and the old priest became more intimate than
before. I wanted to order an end to their close association, but my
own faction was against it.
"Baiel's harmless," they told me again and again. "Don't ride him,
Captain. Let this thing simmer down and we'll have them all on our
side again."
Gradually I realized that the very existence of the Olympus was a
constant threat to the precarious stability of our community. There
were still countless machines aboard which could be converted into
further enervating gifts of the sun god. The Olympus had to be
destroyed, and yet I had no means to accomplish it.
Built to withstand the extreme radiations of spatial sunlight unfiltered
by any atmosphere, the metal of the hull was immune to the
relatively low degree of heat generated by the Hayden. Only the
converted energy used to fuel the tubes could be used for
emergency welding if repairs had to be made away from our Earth
bases. While there was still a residue sealed in the tanks, I knew it
was not enough to liquidate even a part of the ship.
The alternative was to move the community to a place where it
would be physically impractical to return to the Olympus. To the
south the land would be more fertile in any case, the game more
plentiful. To migrate had always been one of my goals for the tribe.
But, when I proposed migration, I came face to face with the
strongest of their taboos. The volcanic mountains to the south were
more terrifying than brother glacier, which moved inexorably closer
with the passing years. No argument, no logic, no patient persuasion
could weaken the force of the taboo. Even Dayhan, who had learned
so much, refused to listen to me. Beyond the fire mountains lay the
hunting ground of the dead; it was forever forbidden to the living.
Suddenly, one night, the sky to the south blazed orange-red as the
slumbering volcano erupted. The ground trembled and we heard
long crevices cracking through the glacial ice; a gray ash settled
down from the sky, smearing the snow heaped around our stone
huts.
The tribe flocked in terror to the old priest. Brother glacier, he told
them, was angry because he had been neglected; brother glacier
demanded sacrifices.
Baiel stood on the stone pedestal beside the priest, smirking
helplessly. When he caught my eye, he pointed to his sleeve to show
me that it was empty. Since I had negativized his Hayden, he could
do nothing to prevent the orgy of human slaughter.
I climbed the pedestal and tried reason. For a moment it seemed
that the tribe might listen. But the earth shook again and, panic
stricken, they started their lottery. Even then I would not have
resorted to Baiel's trick, if they had not chosen one of the Earthmen
for the sacrifice.
I made a display of the sun god's power; it worked, of course. The
old priest responded as if he had been waiting for my cue, and
swayed the mob with him. Then Baiel began to exhort them, crying
that the quaking ground was a sign sent by his god, not brother
glacier. I slid blindly back to my stone hut, sick with self-revulsion; I
felt soiled with the same deception of which Baiel stood accused.

The next morning, while the ground still shook periodically, Baiel
returned to the Olympus. It was whispered on all sides, from both his
faction and my own.
I had to follow him. I had to know what he was up to. But the
undercurrent of feeling ran so high, it seemed necessary to conceal
my intention. I said I was going root-digging in the forest. According
to custom, Dayhan went with me.
I had taught her a great deal, but not enough to overcome her fear of
the tabooed ground. She was willing to wait for me at the edge of the
forest, just outside the sacrificial grove, but I hated to leave her alone
and relatively unprotected. With some misgiving, I gave her my
Hayden.
"My Lord!" Dayhan's almond eyes widened as she fingered the
weapon. It was the first time I had allowed any of the tribe to touch
an energized Hayden.
"Do you trust a woman's hand with the brother-of-the-sun?" she
asked. "Can I hope to understand the bark of your great god?"
"It is only a weapon, like your spear or arrow."
"So my Lord has taught me."
"It will burn any animal that threatens you while you wait."
"As I have seen when you go hunting. I point this small end at the
beast, and then call upon the sun god for—"
"No, Dayhan. Aim well and push the small handle. It is not a god that
makes the power, but the skill of man. Do not change the nozzle dial,
or you will blast the whole forest into flame."
"Enough sun-fire to burn the forest! Yet you say he is no god. I am
truly your mate, my Lord, when you share such power with me."
I left the forest and walked across the ice-covered meadow toward
the glacier. Three miles away, nestled like a black beetle at the foot
of the ice wall, lay the smashed cylinder of the Olympus, already
nearly covered with ice and snow. A thin ribbon of smoke curled up
from the open furnace.
Baiel met me at the door of the control room. Over his fraying
officer's uniform he wore a clumsy cloak of animal skins, as I did
myself. Particles of ice were frozen into his black beard, transforming
it into a jutting blade of ebony. I was suddenly aware how much he
had changed since our crash-landing. Always thin, he now appeared
emaciated. His youth was gone. Only the blaze in his blue eyes
remained the same—glittering, self-confident, determined. Denied
the dress, the grooming, the daily ritual of shaving, both Baiel and I
had become bearded, stoop-shouldered patriarchs, imposing hulks
in our animal cloaks.
"I expected you would follow me," Baiel said.
"Why did you come?" For a moment, I felt a peculiar warmth and pity
for him. "It's insubordination. I'll have to take disciplinary action when
we go back."
"I'm only trying to help, Captain." The words seemed right, but the
voice was mocking.
Baiel turned to the viewscreen and dialed the focus on the area of
the planet south of the volcanic mountains. I saw rolling hills and rich
forests, green plains watered by a network of streams; the land was
a broad peninsula surrounded by the calm, blue water of an
immense sea. There was no indication of human inhabitants.
"I know you've been trying to encourage the tribe to move," Baiel
explained. "I came up here to see if I could locate a place for us to
migrate. This peninsula is ideal, Captain. It's far enough from the
glacier for agriculture to be practical, and—"
"The problem isn't to find the place, Baiel, but to conquer their taboo
against migration."
"But you can do that, Captain; just teach the little savages to reason
the way men do. Nothing to it." He smiled, then, and held out his
hand. "Face it, Captain Theusaman; admit you're wrong! Last night
you had to call on the gods; you couldn't control them any other way.
If the sun god orders a migration, we can have them on their way in
two hours."
"So you're still trying to convince me that you're right."
"Of course; that's why I wanted you to follow me here. Would I have
any other reason?"
His answer seemed too quick. I looked at him, frowning, but the
smile on his face was unreadable.
"Tell me, Baiel: What did you really want on the Olympus?"
He shrugged. "I came to use the viewscreen."
"You risked discipline for something so foolish?"
"What else? I can't bring any of the machines back to the village; you
would throw them out. I can't power the tubes and go back to Earth."
It was all so glibly logical; yet I knew he was lying. I moved toward
him, snatching the fringe of his cloak in my clenching fists. "I'm
asking once again, Baiel: What did you expect to find here?"

"My Lord! My Lord!"

Baiel and I both whirled toward the open cabin door. Dayhan was
outside, slowly crossing the last fifty feet of icy meadow toward the
ship. When Baiel saw her, the smile sagged on his lips and he
sprang from the ship.
"You're on tabooed ground!" he cried. "Go back!"
"I have no fear." Her words were brave, but her voice was a choked
whisper as she looked up at the towering undulations of the glacier
glaring in the sun. "Where my Lord can go, I will follow. Brother
glacier is no god. See! I defy him." She raised my Hayden and aimed
it unsteadily at the wall of ice above the Olympus.
"No!" Baiel screamed. "The sun god will destroy you!"
Baiel was ten paces ahead of me. He reached her as she fired. He
knocked the Hayden from her hand with such force that Dayhan was
thrown sprawling on the slick ground.
Above us tons of ice, dislodged by the Hayden blast, broke and slid
down the face of the glacier upon the Olympus, rocking the ship over
on its side. Baiel flung up his hands in terror, but lowered them a
moment later. Behind his facial mask of stark fear, I saw a strange
expression of uneasy surprise and calculation.
I moved toward him, my fists doubled.
"Even when they begin to conquer the taboos," I cried, through
clenched teeth, "you still try to prevent it!"
"No, Captain; you've got it wrong. I just wanted—you—you had no
right to give her the Hayden." Baiel spoke in a hoarse, nervous
whisper, backing away from me slowly.
"Dayhan's my wife."
"She's still a primitive animal."
I lunged at him. He turned and ran. I would have followed, but
Dayhan began to call after me frantically. I returned to help her. The
ground beneath her was stained red; a jagged blade of ice had
ripped a deep gash in her leg.
With my knife I cut a strip from my fur jacket and wound it as a
tourniquet above the pulsing wound. My fingers were numb with
cold. I worked slowly and awkwardly, but at last the bleeding ceased.
Dayhan tried to stand, but she could not.
"Leave me here, my Lord," she whispered. "Brother glacier is angry;
he wants my blood."
"It was simply an accident, Dayhan. The glacier had nothing to do
with it."
"I trod on tabooed ground. I defied him."
"Man makes the taboos and the punishments and the sacrifices!"
"So you have said, my Lord, and yet—"
"I have taught you truth. You walked alone and without harm on
tabooed ground. You must tell that to your people. The harm came to
you after you found us, Dayhan—from Baiel. Only man is cruel to
man, not the gods."
I pulled her arm around my shoulder and we began the slow, painful
walk back to the village. We had to stop frequently to rest. Twice I
loosed the tourniquet to permit the blood to circulate in her lower leg.
It was four hours before we reached the edge of the forest. There
two of my men met us. They had begun to search the forest for me
when Baiel returned to the village alone. We improvised a stretcher
for Dayhan and carried her between us. The bleeding of her wound
had stopped. With a pinpoint Hayden beam, I turned a drift of snow
into steam and used the boiled water residue to cleanse the caked
blood away from the cut. I seared a strip of skin and used it as a
bandage. On the gently swaying stretcher Dayhan closed her eyes
and slept.

When we were still a quarter of a mile from the village, the chief and
a small band of his hunters met us on the forest trail.
"The sun god speaks to us in a giant voice," the chief said. "It
thunders in every corner of our village!"
"What does the god say?"
"He orders to take up our goods and go. He gives us the hunting
ground of the dead, beyond the fire mountains."
"And your people fear to obey?"
"No. Your sun god is all-powerful. It is your own people who prevent
us. They hold the priest, Baiel, with his followers, imprisoned in the
cave by means of your weapons, the brothers-of-the-sun. They tell
us it is not the sun god who speaks, but Baiel himself."
"They tell you truly."
"But no man can have so great a voice as that we hear!"
So that was why Baiel had gone back to the Olympus! He had
returned to the village with a portable amplifier concealed under his
fur cloak. "Baiel is no priest," I told the Chief. "He speaks for no god.
The great voice you hear is made by a machine, such a thing as this
weapon that we use to slay meat for the tribe."
"You speak knowingly, Seus-man, because you, too, are a priest of
the sun. You showed us that much last night. Some of my tribe say
you and all your people are not simple priests, but brother gods."
"We are men."
"I have married my daughter to the brother-god of the sun!"
"We are men; men!"
"But have you not advised us to move, as the sun god does now? In
our blindness we have heard and not obeyed. And now the sun god
gives orders that we must be gone before he rides directly overhead;
yet your people will not allow it."
"So Baiel's putting a time limit on the migration," I mused aloud.
"Why? Tell me, Chief, how it was, from the beginning."
"As soon as you left, Seus-man, our old priest walked in the village,
declaring we would have a great sign from the sun today. Later the
priest, Baiel, returned and went into the cave, with some of your
people. We began to hear the voice of the sun. The others of your
people—the ones who carry the weapons—gathered outside,
shooting streaks of fire at the cave, but above it so that no man was
harmed. They cried to Baiel to come forth and give himself to them.
He refused, and so things stand. I came seeking you. Only you can
intercede with your priests so they allow us to obey the god. Come
quickly, for our time is short."
We gave Dayhan's stretcher to four of the hunters. I turned to follow
the chief back to the village. Only then did he seem to notice his
daughter. With deference he glanced at her pale face. Trembling, he
asked:
"She is dead?"
"No; but she has been hurt."
"Her Lord has punished her?"
"She was harmed by a piece of ice."
"Brother glacier still means to be revenged on us! If we do not
hasten to obey the voice of the sun, who will protect us?"
"Protect yourselves, as men. No god has any power to equal yours."
"You speak as a priest of the sun. You hold the weapon of the sun in
your hand. You are not like us."
"I am no different. I am a man, the husband of your daughter. Here,
take my weapon." I thrust the Hayden into his hand. "Does it make
you different? Are you transformed into a god?"
He caressed the cold metal, slowly raising the nozzle and pointing it
at a drift of snow. The red flame sputtered and steam swirled up,
coating the pines overhead with a film of ice.
"The power of the sun," he whispered. "Come, Lord, we must go
quickly to our people."
In the village I found the men of my faction arranged in a semi-circle
in front of the cave mouth. Huddled behind them was perhaps three-
fourths of the tribe, the women my men had taken as mates and their
families. The rest of the tribe was packed densely at the mouth of the
cave, swaying and shouting their worship as the voice of Baiel
thundered at intervals out of the darkness of the cavern.
One of my men saluted raggedly, explaining how the situation had
developed. He added: "We have been aiming above their heads,
trying to frighten them away from the cave. No luck, so far."
"Of course Baiel's people aren't armed?"
"No, but too many of the tribe would be killed if we tried to rush the
cave."
"I think we can starve them out."
To hesitate was the natural result of our psycho-processing.
Violence, we had always been taught, was the resort of the
disoriented, not a solution to any problem. Even now we could not
bring ourselves to give up the pattern of our Earthly civilization.
Since it was the prescribed rational procedure, I tried to talk to the
tribe. From the beginning my argument was weak, for I was
opposing the migration which I had myself advocated. It meant
nothing to them when I tried to point out the difference in motivation;
but it symbolized everything to me. The migration to a better land
had to come as a result of their conquest of tribal taboos, not as an
exchange of allegiances from brother glacier to the sun god.
As soon as Baiel heard my voice, he began to jeer at me over the
amplifier. When I made no reply, his tone gradually changed. Over
and over he repeated the orders of the sun god, that the migration
must begin by high noon. But his mockery was slowly tainted with
fear, as the sun mounted the heavens and my armed men still held
the tribe in the village.
The stretcher bearers arrived with Dayhan. She was awake. She sat
up against my shoulder, holding tight to my hand. Softly she spoke to
the tribe as I had:
"It is not the gods that rule us. There are no taboos; the glacier is but
a thing of ice, without life. I have seen for myself. I have walked
unharmed on the tabooed ground. In truth, we must migrate to the
south, but my Lord has taught us that we must go of our own will and
not because of fear of the sun god."
She was one of the tribe. They knew her as they knew their own
children. She spoke in their words, in terms of their concepts. It
should have convinced them, but it did not. Instead they retreated
from her, cringingly respectful, muttering among themselves that
Dayhan's mating had changed her into a brother-god.
Suddenly there was a stirring at the cave mouth. The massed
tribesmen shifted aside reluctantly. Eight of the women who had
been in Baiel's faction slid down toward us, weeping with fear. At
once Baiel's voice boomed out:
"The time is up. You have not obeyed. I was sent by the sun god to
lead you to safety, and you have not heeded me. The god will strike,
now, at the glacier and tear this ground from beneath your feet. I give
you one chance more. Offer up Captain Theusaman in sacrifice and
I, Baiel, will lead you to a new world. But you must make the sacrifice
at once. The god grows impatient."
My men closed around Dayhan and me protectively, but at first there
was no need. The concept bewildered the tribe. They had accepted
me, too, as priest of the sun; the god could not demand my blood.
According to the theory of their superstitions, it made no sense.
One of the women who had fled from the cave was brought to me.
White-faced, she twisted her hands together in anguish while she
talked.
"We didn't know he'd done it, Captain Theusaman—I swear it!"
"Who?"
"Baiel—this morning at the Olympus. He just told us."
"But what? Speak up! Tell me!"
"He put on the automatic power in the control room, timed to
energize the dorsal tubes at noon."
"No harm in that. The tubes are blown. The blast will simply send
open flame soaring into the sky."
"There's forty hours' residue in the tank. Baiel thought the sight of the
flame would terrify the tribe into obeying him. But he says the ship
was overturned this morning, after he had set the dials; so the
broken tubes are pointing down toward the base of the glacier."
I understood the woman's terror, then, and my own body tensed with
cold fear. Instead of making a harmless display, the sun-hot energy,
blasting through the naked dorsal tubes for the next forty hours,
would be fed into the glacier and the ground beneath it. In half that
time the liquefying flame could pierce the planetary crust and reach
its molten core.
As I sprang to my feet the first shock stabbed into the frozen ground.
The shattering explosion of the crumbling glacier rocked the air. In
the distance a cloud of steam arose, blood red from the flames
raging beneath it. In seconds the sun was blotted over with thick
clouds. Hot rain began to fall.
The earth quivered so violently it was almost impossible to stand. Yet
still Baiel's voice boomed through the village.
"Give me the blood of Theusaman and I spare the tribe!"
From priest, he had become the sun god himself.
The rain fell in a deluge. The snow dissolved into slush, and the
village ran with mud.
Dayhan screamed. I turned and saw one of the tribal hunters atop
the stone pedestal, drawing careful aim on me with his bow and
arrow. I caught the shaft in the air with a wide angle beam from my
Hayden.
"Give me the blood of Theusaman!" Baiel cried.
The quaking increased steadily. Small landslides of stone began to
slither from the face of the cliff. The roof of the cave shook and
sagged. The tribe backed away, swirling around me in fury and
brandishing their spears in the bleary air.
The distant rending of the glacier reached a new climax of thunder,
and the deluge swelled into a torrent. The draining water became a
stream, racing muddily through the village and eating at the
crumbling cliffs. The skies darkened as if it were dusk. It was difficult
to recognize faces in the frenzy of squirming bodies.
Driven by the madness of Baiel's chanting voice, many of the young
hunters threw themselves upon us. We used Haydens only as a last
resort, and the sluggish, hand-to-hand fighting in the rising mud went
on indecisively. No one was badly hurt. It was too easy to escape
clutching arms; it was too hard to know the face of friend from foe in
the gloom. Shouting voices were drowned by the rising wind, the
ceaseless din of crumbling glacial ice.
Abruptly the battle was over. A terrified whisper swept the throng: the
god was gone! Someone had looked into the cave and found it
empty. Baiel and ten of his faction had fled; thirty of the tribe had
departed with them.

The shock was paralyzing to those who stayed behind. The tribe
began to wail its lamentation. The god had deserted them! I moved
from group to group, repeating my familiar theme:
"The gods can neither harm nor save you. That you must do for
yourselves."
It had no effect. They stared at me with vacant eyes. They repeated
dumbly in reply: "The sun god is gone. He leaves us to the mercy of
brother glacier."
The stream coursing through the village had risen slowly until it
became a raging river. Still the tribe made no effort to escape. They
had violated their code of the supernatural, and they believed they
must resign themselves to their punishment. I watched as a woman
was carried away by the flood, drowned screaming beneath a part of
the cliff which washed down upon her.
During a momentary lull in the din, the old chief mounted the
swaying stone pedestal, brandishing the Hayden I had given him.
"The sun god has not gone," he cried. "See, I share his power, and I
know he is still among us." He pointed the Hayden at the mouth of
the cave, and the stone crumbled in the caress of red flame. "Seus-
man is the sun god; Baiel was false, sent of evil things."
"Seus-man," the crowd whispered. After a moment, they began to
shout with new hope. "Seus-man! Seus-man! Seus! Seus!"
On their shoulders they lifted me up and carried me to the pedestal.
As I began to speak, I saw a wall of water moving down upon us,
crested by a foaming wave. It was the first flood tide from the melting
glacier. If it reached the village unbroken, the tribe would be wiped
out.
I snatched the Hayden from the Chief, aiming the point of flame at
the base of the cliff. Dirt and granite toppled into the path of the
flood. The tribe dropped on its knees in the thick mud, shouting
praise of my name.
My crude dam might hold for an hour, certainly no longer. I had no
time to convince them by persuasion. It would be opposing the full
violence of reality with the thin web of philosophy. The important
thing at the moment was to lead the tribe to safety.
I looked down upon them and I began to speak wearily.
"I am Theusaman, god of the sun," I said. "Take up your possessions
and follow me...."
Baiel had won, after all.

All that happened more than fifty years ago.

I did lead the tribe to safety; that much I accomplished. They have
since built many villages and they have learned the art of agriculture
and of domesticating cattle. They have thrived and grown and joined
with other tribes. They will survive and someday rule their planet.
As Baiel once predicted, the glacier is rapidly retreating. The process
began with the heat generated by the exposed dorsal tube of the
dead Olympus. Each spring the run-off of melting water is greater
than the ice which accumulates during the winter. When the glacier
is gone, it will give my people a fertile world like our own Earth.
For that I am glad, because I have given them nothing else.
Nothing else!
I have, instead, saddled them with a hierarchy of gods. The tribes
which migrated across the sea have taken a part of my name as
their sun god; they call me Amon. Here at home they call me Zeus.
Dayhan has become Diana, the goddess of the forests. Even Baiel
leaves his name with a people settled in the desert, though to us
Baal persists as a god of evil things.
Ironically, the one thing of Earth that I have given these people is the
name itself. This planet they call the Earth, unaware of any other.
They think of themselves as Earthmen. And I? I am called Zeus of
Olympus, father of all the gods!
Perhaps I judge my failure too bitterly. I am an old man, now, the last
living survivor of the expedition. I have looked into the face of my
sons and my grandsons, as I have the sons and grandsons of the
other Earthmen who were with our expedition. Our children have our
features, not the slant skulls and ape arms of their mothers. Have
we, by chance, left on this lonely planet something of our potential
ability as Earthmen?

Though I cannot live long enough to know the answer, I would like to
believe that we have. Because I want to believe, I leave this written
account of the truth. I address it to my sons of tomorrow—to men
who have finally made themselves free of taboo and superstition. To
them I say: Lift up your eyes to the sky, to that other Earth across the
emptiness of space. Seek them out, those other Earthmen, and
know them for your brothers.
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO THE SONS
OF TOMORROW ***

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