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Other documents randomly have
different content
Pendillo gasped painfully for breath. He closed his hand over his
son's. "The old survivors are still imprisoned by beliefs carried over
from the world we lost. We teach, Lanny, but we cannot believe as
you do, even when we see our own children—our own sons—" His
voice trailed away, and he slumped against Lanny's chest.
A series of explosions rocked the metal walls; Pendillo opened his
eyes again. His dying whisper was so soft, so twisted by pain, the
words were almost inaudible. "One more thing, son. We did more—
more than we thought. Don't retreat to our world; make your own.
Without the machines and the city walls and the uproar—"
Juan Pendillo grasped his son's hand. His fingers quivered for a
moment of agony. And then he died.

Lanny stumbled away from the cell, his eyes dim with tears. The
repetitive explosions continued outside in the domed city. Lanny
discovered the origin of the sound when he made his way up the
incline to the upper level. The parade of gigantic freight spheres was
swinging in from the void of night, but the port machines, which
handled the landings, were idle. The spheres were crashing, one
upon the other, into the field just beyond the city. From disengaged,
pliable tubes, jerking with the spasmodic torment of mechanical
chaos, the raw materials plundered from the earth poured out upon
the ruin. Fire licked at the wreckage, probing hungrily toward the
city of the Almost-men.
Lanny ran through the deserted guard rooms. Beyond the walls he
heard a babble of panic on the city streets. The first exit that he
found led up to the second level, where no man had ever been.
He emerged on an ornate balcony, which overlooked the square
where the trading booths stood. The force dome that had sheltered
the city was gone. Lanny could look up and see the stars—and the
endless parade of glowing freight spheres descending toward the
earth. The air was clean, cold and wet with the sea mist.
In a sense the depressing, stifling city he had seen that afternoon
was already gone—except for the bleak walls and the clatter of
machine sounds. And, in the agony of its death, the city noise had
become the scream of mechanized madness. A seething mass of
vehicles choked every tier, fighting for space, grinding each other
into rubble. Vehicles careened from the upper roads and plunged
into the mass beneath.
At first it seemed a panic of machines. The people were trivial
incidentals—bits of fluff which had been unfortunate enough to get
in the way of the turning wheels. Then Lanny saw the walkaways, as
crowded as the roads. A mass of humanity spewed through the
doors of the luxury hotels, like run-off streams swelling the floodtide
of a swollen river. Where were the Almost-men going? How could
they escape? They had given their will and initiative to their
machines; they could do nothing to help themselves.
Lanny saw an occasional opalescent bubble rise in the air. But
inevitably, before it could move beyond the city, a force of blazing
energy shot up from the lowest tier and brought the capsule down.
Here and there in the darkness Lanny saw the furious blast of an
energy gun, probing futilely into the chaos.
As the fire rose higher in the port wreckage, Lanny saw men fighting
on the lower tier. They held the bridge and the trading square and
they had taken the power center, which explained why the city was
dark and why the force dome was gone. But they were still fighting
to take the arsenal. A squad of guards held them off with energy
guns; the men fought back from the darkness with weapons they
had captured elsewhere.
Even now they hadn't discovered the truth; they still feared the
enemy weapons. They still thought they must have guns of their
own—machines of their own—in order to be free. Build your own
world, Pendillo had said; don't go back to ours.
Lanny pushed through the throng on the walkway, trying to find an
incline to the lower tier. Once or twice people in the mob saw him, in
the shuddering light reflected by the energy guns, and recognized
him as a man—a half-naked, black-bearded savage. They screamed
in terror.

This was the hour of man's revenge, yet Lanny felt an inexpressible
shame and sadness. Was this the way man's cities had died a
generation ago, in a discord of mechanical sound, without courage
and without dignity?
At last he found the incline to the lower level. It was jammed with a
mass of Almost-men, fighting and clawing their way down so they
might flee into the hunting preserve beyond the city. The tide swept
Lanny with it. At the foot of the incline he circled the arsenal to join
the men, still confined in the trading square.
Gill was directing the fire of his men as they inched forward. He
clapped Lanny on the back, grinning broadly.
"I knew you'd get out, Lan. Is Juan all right?"
"He's dead, Gill. He was wounded and he didn't know how to heal
himself."
"He had to know, Lanny; he taught us."
"They all taught us. They made us—" Lanny's voice choked a little as
he used his father's familiar phrase. "—a new breed. Gill, we're
acting like fools; we're fighting for something we don't want or
need."
"We have to have weapons, Lan."
"We need nothing but what we've been taught. The mind interprets
and commands the chaos of the universe. Matter and energy are
identical."
Lanny turned and walked, erect and unafraid, toward the arsenal.
The energy fire from the guards' guns struck him and exploded. He
reorganized the pattern into harmless components and stood waiting
for the charge to die away.
In a moment Gill was beside him, beaming with understanding as he
met and transformed a second blast from the guns. "Of course
matter and energy are the same!" he cried. "It should have been
obvious to us. We have been prisoners twenty years for nothing."
"We needed those twenty years to discover our new world. We have
only finished our education tonight."
As a third blast of energy came from the arsenal, other men slid out
of the darkness and faced the guns. Lanny and Gill walked away,
ignoring the screaming machines and the stabbing knives of fire.
"Yesterday," Gill said slowly, "if I had known that I could direct a flow
of energy just as easily as I integrate with my hunting club, I would
have stood here cheerfully and slaughtered the Almost-men, just to
watch them die. Now, I'm sorry for them."
"There's no reason why they must all die in panic, Gill. Isn't there
some way—"
Behind them they heard a burst of ragged cheering. The arsenal
guards, having seen their weapons fail, had deserted their posts and
fled. Men stormed into the building, shattering the metal doors by
re-organizing the energy structure. Slowly they wheeled out the
great machines—the symbols of enemy power.
"We fought for this," one of the men said. "And now we have no use
for them."

Gill called a meeting of the resistance council in the deserted trading

square, while the city around them throbbed in the chaos of
disintegration. The men were entirely aware of the problem created
by their liberation. The new breed was free, on the threshold of a
new and unexplored world. They could carry the message to other
treaty areas; they could show other men the final lesson in
reorientation. That much was simple. But what became of the
enemy?
"It would be absurd to kill them all," Gill said. He added with
unconscious irony, "After all, they do know how to think on their own
restricted level. They might be able, someday, to learn how to
become civilized men."
"The worst of it," one of the others pointed out, "is that their home
world is bound to know something's wrong. The delivery of
resources has already been interrupted. They will try to reconquer
us. It doesn't matter, particularly, but it might become a little
tiresome after a while."
"Ever since I understood how this would end," Lanny said, "I've
been wondering if we couldn't work out some way for them to keep
the skyports just as they are. Let the Almost-men have our
resources. They need them; we don't."
The council agreed to this with no debate. Lanny was delegated to
find someone in authority in the skyport and offer him such a treaty.
Lanny asked Gill to go with him. The others split into two groups,
one to put out the fires and clear away the port wreckage; the
second to herd the enemy refugees together in the game preserve
and protect them from the animals.
Lanny and Gill pushed through the mob toward the upper levels of
the city. The crowd had thinned considerably as more and more of
the enemy fled into the forest. The brothers, barefoot giants, had an
entirely unconscious arrogance in their stride. They passed the rows
of luxury hotels and entered the government building. Here,
apparently, there was an emergency source of power, for the
corridor tubes glowed dimly with a sick, blue light. Room after room
the brothers entered; they found no one—nothing but the disorderly
debris of haste and panic.
Methodically they worked their way to the top floor of the building.
In a wing beyond the courtroom were the private quarters of the
planetary governor.

He sat waiting for them in his glass-paneled office overlooking the

tiers of the city. He was a tall man, slightly stooped by age. He had
put on the full, formal uniform of his office—a green plastic,
ornamented with a scarlet filagree and a chest stripe of jeweled
medals. He was behind his desk with the wall behind him open upon
the sky.
"I expected a stampeding herd," he said.
"You knew we were coming?" Lanny asked.
"It was obvious you'd try to force us to sign a new treaty."
"Call it a working agreement," Gill suggested. "We intend to let you
keep the—"
"You have panicked the city by taking advantage of our kindness.
But you won't pull this stunt again; I've already requested a stronger
occupation force from parliament."
The governor stood up; he held an energy gun in his hand. "This
frightens you, doesn't it? You should have expected one of us to
keep a level head. I've handled savages before. You're very clever in
creating believable illusions, particularly when there seems to be
some religious significance. I should have known it was a trick when
you sent that addle-witted missionary back to us."
"Tak Laleen?"
"Of course none of my men tell me what's going on until it's too late.
They took her to the Triangle first. She talked to the priests, and
they filled the city with all sorts of weird rumors about men who
could control the energy pattern of matter." The governor's lip
curled; he nodded toward a side door. "She's here now, under house
arrest. She'll be expelled from the territory on the first ship out after
the port is reopened."
"She's wasn't lying," Lanny said. "She understood more than we did
ourselves. Maybe Juan told her—"
The governor laughed and motioned with his gun. "Will you join her,
or do you want to force me to spoil your pretty illusion?"
Gill walked unhurriedly toward the desk. "You must listen to us. Fire
the gun, if you insist on that much proof. We want to save your
world, not destroy it."
The governor backed toward the open wall panel. "Stand where you
are, or I'll fire!"
"Just give us a chance to explain—"
"The whole business is drivel. Superstitious nonsense. No man can
violate the established laws of science."
"Why not, since men made the laws originally?"
The shell of dignity in the governor's manner began to crack away,
revealing the naked hysteria that lay beneath. Gill moved again. The
governor punched the firing stud of his energy gun. The fire lashed
harmlessly at Gill's chest.
"It's a lie!" the governor screamed. He fired the gun again at Lanny;
then at Gill. His mouth quivered with terror. He was an intelligent
man; he looked upon the evidence of a fact that overturned
everything he believed. In the clamor of a dying city, still throbbing
far below his open wall panel, he heard the testimony of the same
discord. He lost his rational world in the chaos, and he hadn't the
ability to find another.
For a moment the governor stood looking at the half-naked giants
he had been unable to kill. Then he flung the weapon away and
leaped through the open panel into the mechanical clatter of the
dying city.
"Once I wouldn't have cared," Gill told his brother. "Now I do. Lanny,
must we destroy their world in spite of ourselves?"
They heard a faint voice behind them. "Not all of us, Gill." The
brothers turned. They saw Tak Laleen, dressed again in the white
uniform of the missionary. She came slowly through the metal panel
of a door.
"You see, it is possible for us to learn," she said when she stood
within the room. "I have."
"Then all your people—"
"Not all of them. A few, if they're fortunate."
"You did it, Tak Laleen; most of our older survivors haven't."
"They watched you grow up. The change was so gradual, they
weren't aware of it. I fell into your hands at the moment when you
were yourselves discovering your potential capabilities. I followed
the three of you when you ran away from the sphere police in Santa
Barbara. One of you had touched my force-field capsule and drained
away its power. I had to know how you did it. By intuition I guessed
something very close to the truth, but even so it could have
unhinged my mind if it hadn't been for Juan Pendillo. He taught me
what he had taught you—a new point of view, a new way of looking
at the world. He was so gentle and so patient, so easy to
understand."
"And after all that, you ran away from the skyport and betrayed
him."
"It was a put up job." She smiled. "Juan and I worked it out
together. He wanted to force the city guards to attack the treaty
area; but, if my people refused to believe what I told them, at least
Gill would try to rescue his father and Lanny. We had to make the
conflict begin before you were armed. If you won by using a
machine, you might put your faith in machines again instead of
yourselves. It was a risk for Juan and myself, but more so for you.
No one really knew what you might be able to do, or what your
ultimate limitations were."
"There are none," Gill said.
"I know that now, because I've made the reorientation myself. I
didn't then. The rational mind is the only integrating factor in the
chaos of the universe—Juan told me that. It is literally true. Mind
creates the universe by interpreting it." She put her hand in Lanny's
and looked up at the stars patterning the void of night. "I wish I
might say that to my people and have them understand; but the
clatter of our machines closes us in. Our world will die in violence
and madness, the way the skyport died tonight. We may be able to
help the survivors afterward; we can do nothing now."
"But we must do it now," Lanny persisted stubbornly. "We don't want
revenge, Tak Laleen; we've outgrown our reason for that."
"Can you teach my people any differently than you learned yourself?
It took an invasion and twenty years of imprisonment before you
were able to break free from your old patterns of thinking."
"But you did it in a day."
"In the beginning, your teachers didn't know what their goal was;
they only knew they had a problem and it had to be solved. I came
in at the end, when their job was nearly finished and they were
pretty sure where they were headed. That's why it was so easy for
me."
"And your world does that, too."
Gill fingered his lip. "The trouble is, Lanny, it isn't simply a matter of
giving them the facts. To us they are obvious, but you saw what
happened to the governor. How can we make a man believe a new
truth, when it means giving up all the science he has always
believed?"
"We failed with the governor because we threw the end result in his
face without giving him a logical reason to accept it."
Tak Laleen shook her head. "And so we're back where we started.
We have to let my world fall apart before we can save it." She
moved impatiently toward the door. "This building is a tomb. I want
to walk on the soil and smell the wind and taste the energy of the
earth."

In an uncomfortable silence they left the government building. Gill

integrated with the power in the lift, and they rode the elevator to
the ground level. As the cage slid past the empty floors, Gill broke
the silence abruptly.
"If all we want is to prevent chaos on your world, Tak Laleen, it
won't be hard. We'll just go through with the treaty we intended to
offer to the governor. We can put things back as they were and go
on delivering resources to the Almost-men. The only people who
know the truth will be our prisoners. We can keep them out of sight
and ourselves play at being Almost-men to satisfy any tourists who
come to the skyport."
"We'll have to do that for a while, until we work out something
better; but it's only a stopgap. We have a problem," Lanny said
doggedly. "We know it can be solved, because it has been for
ourselves and for Tak Laleen. All we have to find is the method."
"Learning begins with a need," the missionary said. "For you, it was
twenty years of despair: invasion, humiliation, surrender. Your old
ideas didn't work. You either had to accept status as second-raters
or work out a new way of thinking. As for me—" She shrugged her
shoulders. "I suppose I couldn't help myself. I did try to run away,
remember. I tried every possible answer in terms of our logic first. I
even thought, for a while, that Lanny was a robot. Anything but the
truth."
Gill asked, "When did you first begin to understand? What happened
that made you willing to believe the truth?"
"It was an accumulation of many things, I suppose."
"That isn't specific enough. There must have been one instant when
you were willing to give up what you believed and start learning
something new."
"I don't know when it was."
They left the government building and walked through the lower
courtyards of the city. Groups of Almost-men were being herded
back into the city from the game preserve. They clung together,
hushed and terrified. The city lights were in working order once
more and the flashing colors turned their faces into gargoyle masks.
Three guards, in torn and bloodstained uniforms, stood looking at
the machines which men had hauled out of the arsenal. Suddenly
one of the soldiers began to kick at an abandoned gun, screaming in
fury while tears of rage welled from his eyes.
Lanny turned away. It was painfully embarrassing to watch the
dissolution of a human personality, even on the relatively immature
level which the machine culture of the Almost-men had achieved.
But as Tak Laleen watched the spectacle of childish rage, sudden
hope blazed in her eyes. She grasped Lan's arm.
"He's blaming the machine for our defeat," she said. "Now I
remember what happened to me; now I know! When you were
running away from Santa Maria, Lanny, you fired an energy gun at
my sphere. It destroyed the force-field and I fell out of the port. I
was terrified—not so much of you, but because my machine had
failed. All night while I lay in the launch, I faced that awful
nightmare. For the first time in my life, I began to doubt the system
I had trusted. I lost faith in my own world. I felt a need for
something else."
Lanny repeated slowly, "Loss of faith in the status quo—"
"Could we duplicate that for all your people, Tak Laleen?" Gill asked
doubtfully.
"Yes, I'm sure we could, Gill. We have a clue; we know what has to
be done. And we have an experimental laboratory." The missionary
nodded toward the mob of cringing Almost-men coming in from the
preserve. "We have a city of people, disorganized by panic, with
their faith in the machine already shattered. While we teach these
people how to make the reorientation, we'll learn the methods that
will work most effectively with my world."

They left the city and began to cross the bridge toward the treaty
area. Tak Laleen passed her arms through theirs. She said, with
sorrow in her voice, "No matter what we do, no matter how carefully
we try to cushion the panic, we still have no way of being entirely
sure of the results. Something that works with our prisoners or with
us might destroy my world; it could send a planet into mass
paranoia."
"That risk is implied in all learning, Tak Laleen," Lanny answered.
"We can never escape it. I'm not sure we ought to try. The individual
who lives in a closed world of absolutes—shut in by prison walls of
his own mind—is already insane. The sudden development of a new
idea simply makes the condition apparent."
"In a sense," Gill added, "there is no such thing as a teacher. There
are people who expose us to data and try to demonstrate some
techniques we can use, but any learning that goes on must come
from within ourselves."
"We will develop the most effective method we can," Lanny said.
"Then we will apply it to your world, Tak Laleen. The rest is up to
them. That's as it should be—as it must be."
Arm in arm they crossed the bridge—two men and a missionary from
an alien world. They had been enemies, but during a night of chaos
and death they had learned to become men—the first men to catch
the vision of the new world of the mind. Each of them was soberly
aware that the discovery was not an end, but a beginning. And they
faced that beginning with neither fear nor regret, because they had
the confidence that comes of maturity. The unknown was not a god-
power or a devil-power, but a problem to be solved by the skill of a
rational mind.
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ALMOST-MEN
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