Flight of the Maita Supercollection 3: Solving Galactic Problems Collector's Edition (111 page)

"They
absolutely refused to see it. They were as blind and unthinking as
Khomeini. We called them Khomeini Baptists."

[ Did you
ramble on and on like that about it? No wonder they wouldn't hear!
Wheee! ]

Z threw Thing
into the air and it caught the floater with a tentacle, then swung
back around to wrap its tentacles around his shoulders and neck.
They wrestled a bit until they were aboard Maita, then went to the
pilot's chair to sleep. They awoke later, had a good meal, used the
showers and sanitary and prepared to go aground on Glisp. Maita
chose an area where they could be sure they would do no damage.

Several of the
skimmer craft came to wait patiently so Z and Thing went out to
one. There was no one inside.

"Machine
slaves. I'm glad of that!"

There was a
spate of language coming from a speaker on the skimmer, but Z
shrugged.

[ It's
altogether possible there are no longer any Flincheens alive. Only
the machines. Maita, you have a sort of language from Beacon Two.
Maybe these machines can converse in it? ]

*Digitals. I'll
try the introductory sequence code Two used with me.*

They waited
while the machines chattered at one another for a few minutes.

*Go in any of
the skimmers. There's a translator device. You'll be talking with
Porth, an organic being. He'll use the probe on the floater and
I'll give you the language and such. I'll leave all the information
on the crystal so you'll have both societal and personal
perspectives. From what was said you were right about them. I'll
allow you to draw your own conclusions and to act as you see
fit.*

Z and Thing got
into a skimmer and were whisked away. The tug floater was hovering
a meter above them. They arrived at a small hollow into the side of
a hill where the skimmer stopped and sat on the ground so they
climbed out, Thing onto it’s personal floater from Z's
shoulder.

A door opened
and a being much like the one in the holovid on Library waved them
inside. They went into a luxurious room where Porth reclined on a
couch. Thing placed the probe helmet, they waited and the floater
left to return shortly with the crystal for Z's socket.

"I see," Z said
in Maitan after inserting the chip. "Thing, I know Maita is sending
directly to you. You're an amusing little creature – maybe a Fourth
class. You might make a good pet if you aren't too messy. I'm
either Third or Fourth class myself. How do we handle it?"

Thing used the
floater speaker and spoke in Porth's language.

[ Z will have
to become adept at hearing the language so we will speak a moment
while he listens and learns the inflections and accents. I am
called Thing and am a Mentan. I'm sure you haven't heard of my race
here on your quaint little world so I will forgive and overlook
your not having proper foods and beverages ready for me. Z won't be
bothered by that so much as your extreme rudeness in not bowing
when meeting a Maitan. He will be far too polite and proper to
mention such things, I am sure. It would be terribly declasse' for
him to say anything. This looks like a comfortable place if a bit
primitive for my tastes. Do you reside here alone? ]

Porth was in
shock. He stammered a bit.

[ Don't these
people look like those animals we use for cattle on Paradise
Planet, Z? I wonder how tasty they are? Porth, I ... well, I won't
ask. We are very curious about this place. It seems you've learned
to control population very nicely and you've done away with
pollution. The native language is a bit effete. Almost decadent.
Have your race been stagnating here for very long? The place has an
air of the decay of great age about it, wouldn't you say, Z? ]

Z saw what
Thing was doing, but was sure it wouldn't work. There was nothing
to lose by going along with it.

"It would seem
they've done away with all kinds of things. Things like progress,
for example. I don't understand how anyone could tolerate the
boredom.

"Tell me,
Porth. When was the last time anyone did anything new here?"

"Wha? Huh?
Who?" Porth demanded.

[ Oh, dear! Are
we not using the language properly? Let me check! I was sure it was
... it seems all right to me. ]

"I guess we're
not what Porth expected. Let me analyze the language for the
better.... I see. Nothing has changed here since that old empire
died! Before!"

Porth regained
control of himself and drew up to look down at Z sitting lazily on
a couch.

"Whenever a
race advances to a point where all things become redundant that
race selects those things it deems worthwhile and ingrains them
into its lifestyle," Porth sniffed haughtily. "You may call it
stagnation, but if one tries to improve on perfection that
perfection is lost. We have found perfection and will keep it. We
will leave it to such as you to seek. It is no longer of any
importance to us. There is no advancement from perfection."

[ What a silly
thing to say. You are giving a definition to the desire for
suicide. You really don't know what the word stagnation means,
apparently. It's a decaying regression. A stopping and falling back
when used in reference to societal imperatives. There is no
perfection. ]

"There is no
perfection to YOU because you have not yet found it!" Porth
retorted sharply. "You can't possibly understand it even as a
concept!"

"Really?" Z
said interestedly. "Thing can understand crossplanal
interdimensional mode transference drift as a concept, but it can't
understand your idea of perfection? How odd!"

Thing twisted
one eye to look at Z, but kept the other fixed on Porth. Beings
with unidirectional vision found that disconcerting, usually.

[ I understand
abstract concepts and theories of any kind, Z. I understand the
idea of perfection as a concept, but state it can only be real if
it's false. If perceived as a real thing it becomes real only in
that perception and it doesn't matter in the least what obviates
OUTSIDE of the perception. It's one of those silly 'I say it,
therefore it is' philosophical circles. ]

"Oh," Z said.
"Solipsism? Or is it silopsism? Cism? One of those things where a
thing is true because I perceive it to be true – but ending the
dream, what of the dreamer?"

[ You make
about as much sense as Porth. Do you ever think or do you just open
your mouth to be surprised by what comes out? ]

"Yes, I hope
so," Z said. "Porth! Do your machines grow your food or are you so
perfect you don't have to eat, thereby doing away with the
necessity of excretion and all those messy sorts of things?"

Porth stared
hard at Z, so he shrugged.

[ I would
imagine the diet would be very bland and tasteless. One must give
something to get something. ]

"Our foods are
finer and of better taste than anything in the universe!" Porth
exploded. "How can life be perfect if ANY part of it is not?"

*Perhaps Porth
would enjoy some Narvinian lobster in crisp amaranth crust, Harkan
greens with kleevish butter dressing, ormpth root crisp fried with
Broonktht sauce, Kaleftian mushrooms sauteed in pungentbulb and
Sarnian sour cream and Kenovian special wine?*

The probe had
shown the things that would appeal to Porth's taste and these
things were also favorites of Thing and Z. The ingredients, could
Maita not make all it might want on the atomic architect, would
cost more than anyone could afford, as they came from planets
thousands of plazsis apart. Thing and Z saw Maita's strategy
immediately.

[ Well,
considering the fact that Porth doesn't have snacks waiting for us
we can overlook that breech in etiquette and supply some things, I
suppose. Actually, I could use a bit of sustenance now. I'm sure
Porth would enjoy tasting some of our regular fare so send us a
little meal, Maita. It is proper when imposing on a person to
supply something even if the host fails to do so. We can show Porth
the true meaning of perfection in food. Maita, add a little
something. How about some lettuce salad with tomatoes, avocados and
cucumber from Terra with glovetch vinegar and bldrth oil? A
sristeen of Zrdlectian gold wine as an aperitif with a few very
small cinnamon and frzcth spice morsels to stimulate the appetite?
]

Z grinned to
himself. He knew full well this wouldn't work, but maybe they could
learn something about the way these people lived – and he could use
a snack like that!

The food came.
Porth was a bit squeamish at first but, once the smells reached him
and he took a small taste he was hooked. He ate some of everything
they brought and even forgot how completely insulted he was. He
actually started to act friendly. After the meal, Maita sent gincha
with a touch of creme de menthe and vanilla from Earth. The three
sat around the couches, Thing on Z's lap, to talk.

"I have to
admit it, that was very good!" Porth declared. "It is as good as
anything I have ever tasted!"

[ We won't get
into the more obvious part, which is that your perfection wasn't
exactly perfect. Tastes differ among different people. How do you
grow your food here? Machines? ]

"I haven't been
in the food tanks lately so we can tour them together if you like,"
Porth replied offhandedly. "We have completely eliminated need for
anyone to lack proper nutrition along with having the finest
flavors imaginable. I can show you how it is done and perhaps you
will aid me in getting a start of those things we have eaten here
today."

They walked
along a hall to a door. They went through and found themselves in a
long room filled with vats. "I'll have the computer explain what is
being done here," he continued inside the place. "It is all modern
tissue cloning technique."

He punched
instructions on a computer board, then a recorded lecture began
about the process: "Once a sample of any organic material is placed
in the proper nutrient solution it will grow as quickly as the
nutrients are provided. The special lights can be varied causing
the texture of the different plant materials to vary to consistency
desired. Genetic splicing adds those chemicals in spices to become
a part of the material itself.

"The same
techniques are used in the protein vats except that electrical
stimulation pulses causes masses of muscle tissue to constrict
until the desired texture is reached. The meat products are also
internally spiced. Most beverages are produced through enzymatic
actions and are augmented with minerals and vital chemicals and
chemical chains produced by genetically spliced bacteria."

"If you will
supply me small samples of the things we have eaten, the machines
can extract the genes and can grow us all we want," Porth
requested. "I'm sure the computers will be glad to explain the
entire process for you."

[ I'm afraid
our storage processes would destroy the genetic chains in the
material so it couldn't be cloned. Perhaps there's some of the
amaranth or you could match the chemicals in the wines. ]

"I think we
have the genetic basic materials so probably can duplicate the
structure of any of it without direct cloning," Porth said. "I
think the computers can splice whatever we want together even if
some of your foods are synthesized."

*I do recombine
specific materials from their purified forms. I can remove anything
that may be toxic to any of the diners. I will supply some of the
various things we served. If Thing and Z will return to the ship we
have a bit of a minor emergency to answer. Perhaps someday we will
return here.*

They said their
goodbyes and went back to Maita.

[ What's the
emergency, Maita? ]

*There isn't
any, really. I've detected another world from a sensor satellite I
left in space that's advanced beyond radio. There isn't anything we
can do here. This society is fixed and invariant. I was hoping the
foods would incite a craving for something in him, but it didn't.
Just a mild curiosity. I imagine he actually can produce any flavor
he wants and really can duplicate what we served. We may have added
to his little storehouse, but nothing will change here. It's really
frustrating to know we can't always make a positive change. We're
wasting our time here. The race will never produce anything at all.
Their place is in the past. I want to get away from here before the
two of you get your natural instincts to make change started. It
would be hopeless.*

[ I think so,
too. It's as bad in its way as the Immins were in theirs. They are
what they are. At least they'll never hurt anyone. ]

"Yeah, let's
get out of here. I know what you mean about my instincts. I was
getting into trying to do something.

"I think I
learned more about me than I did about Porth. I could get stubborn
as all hell about it. We could take away the machines and they'd
HAVE to do something!"

*They'd soon
starve. That would make you no better than them.*

"I know it.
That's what I mean. It bothers me that I would regress to such a
petty thing, but I actually seriously thought about doing something
like that."

*That would be
no more than striking out at frustration. Nothing would be gained
and we'd spend a lot of time on a truly hopeless case of societal
atrophy.*

"Say what?"

[ It would be
hopeless. They aren't hurting anything. They should be left alone
and Z should sit around the dome psychoanalyzing himself because he
still thinks like a childish primitive! Actually he IS a childish
primitive. Well, he’s childish, anyway – and primitive. He can't
... Hey! WHOA! ]

They started
playing and teasing each other then, and didn't stop until Maita
announced they were in orbit around their next stop.

The
Krofpth

*I felt I had
to get us out of there to avoid the clash that was sure to come. It
would have solved nothing. This was a highly developed planet
during the time of the Krofpth Empire according to Library. I've
worked out coordinates very well now. It's too bad we can't send
pictures on fastcom so we could know if they're the original race
here. They declined and are again advancing. That, I think, is very
rare. I would have believed a race who had devolved in the manner
the empire's races did was doomed. If I could get pictures on
fastcom we could compare. As it is we'll have to wait until we've
checked the world, then check back with Library.*