The Unlearned Read online

familiar signal somewhere deep in hismind. Then he knew--that was the home world of Waldon Thar, one of hisclosest friends in the year when he'd gone to school at Galactic Centerfor advanced study.

  Thar had been one of the most brilliant researchers Hockley had everknown. In bull session debate he was instantly beyond the depth ofeveryone else.

  Janisson VIII. Thar could tell him about the Rykes!

  Hockley pushed the tape cans aside and went to the phone in theworkroom. He dialed for the interstellar operator. "Government prioritycall to Janisson VIII," he said. "Waldon Thar. He attended GalacticCenter Research Institute twenty-three years ago. He came from the cityPlar, which was his home at that time. I have no other information,except that he is probably employed as a research scientist."

  There was a moment's silence while the operator noted the information."There will be some delay," she said finally. "At present theinter-galactic beams are full."

  "I can use top emergency priority on this," said Hockley. "Can you cleara trunk for me on that?"

  "Yes. One moment, please."

  He sat by the window for half an hour, turning down the light in theworkroom so that he could see the flow of traffic at the port west ofthe Lab buildings. Two spaceships took off and three came in while hewaited. And then the phone rang.

  "I'm sorry," the operator said. "Waldon Thar is reported not on JanissonVIII. He went to Rykeman III about two Earth years ago. Do you wish toattempt to locate him there?"

  "By all means," said Hockley. "Same priority."

  This was better than he had hoped for. Thar could really get him theinformation he needed on the Rykes. Twenty minutes later the phone rangagain. In the operator's first words Hockley sensed apology and knew theattempt had failed.

  "Our office has learned that Waldon Thar is at present on tour as aideto the Ryke emissary, Liacan. We can perhaps trace--"

  "No!" Hockley shouted. "That won't be necessary. I know now--"

  He almost laughed aloud to himself. This was an incredible piece of goodluck. Waldon Thar was probably out at the space port right now--unlessone of those ships taking off had been the Ryke--

  He wondered why Thar had not tried to contact him. Of course, it hadbeen a long time, but they had been very close at the center. He dialedthe field control tower. "I want to know if the ship from Rykeman IIIhas departed yet," he said.

  "They were scheduled for six hours ago, but mechanical difficulty hasdelayed them. Present estimated take-off is 1100."

  Almost two hours to go, Hockley thought. That should be time enough."Please put me in communication with one of the aides aboard namedWaldon Thar. This is Sherman Hockley of Scientific Services. Priorityrequest."

  "I'll try, sir." The tower operator manifested a sudden increase ofrespect. "One moment, please."

  Hockley heard the buzz and switch clicks of communication circuitsreaching for the ship. Then, in a moment, he heard the somewhatirritated but familiar voice of his old friend.

  "Waldon Thar speaking," the voice said. "Who wishes to talk?"

  "Listen, you old son of a cyclotron's maiden aunt!" said Hockley. "Whowould want to talk on Sol III? Why didn't you give me a buzz when youlanded? I just found out you were here."

  "Sherm Hockley, of course," the voice said with distant, unperturbedtones. "This is indeed a surprise and a pleasure. To be honest, I hadforgotten Earth was your home planet."

  "I'll try to think of something to jog your memory next time. How aboutgetting together?"

  "Well--I don't have very long," said Thar hesitantly. "If you could comeover for a few minutes--"

  Hockley had the jolting feeling that Waldon Thar would just as soon passup the opportunity for their meeting. Some of the enthusiasm went out ofhis voice. "There's a good all-night inter-planetary eatery and bar onthe field there. I'll be along in fifteen minutes."

  "Fine," said Thar, "but please try not to be late."

  On the way to the field, Hockley wondered about the change that hadapparently taken place in Thar. Of course, _he_ had changed,too--perhaps for much the worse. But Thar sounded like a stuffed shirtnow, and that is the last thing Hockley would have expected. In school,Thar had been the most irreverent of the whole class of irreverents,denouncing in ecstasy the established and unproven lore, riding theprofessors of unsubstantiated hypotheses. Now--well, he didn't soundlike the Thar Hockley knew.

  He took a table and sat down just as Thar entered the dining room. Thelatter's broad smile momentarily removed Hockley's doubts. The smilehadn't changed. And there was the same expression of devilish disregardfor the established order. The same warm friendliness. It baffledHockley to understand how Thar could have failed to remember Earth washis home.

  Thar mentioned it as he came up and took Hockley's hand. "I'm terriblysorry," he said. "It was stupid to forget that Earth meant ShermanHockley."

  "I know how it is. I should have written. I guess I'm the one who owes aletter."

  "No, I think not," said Thar.

  They sat on opposite sides of a small table near a window and ordereddrinks. On the field they could see the vast, shadowy outline of theRyke vessel.

  Thar was of a race genetically close to the Rykes. He lacked thefeathery covering, but this was replaced by a layer of thin scales,which had a tendency to stand on edge when he was excited. He also worea breathing piece, and carried the small shoulder tank with a faint airof superiority.

  Hockley watched him with a growing sense of loss. The first impressionhad been more nearly correct. Thar hadn't wanted to meet him.

  "It's been a long time," said Hockley lamely. "I guess there isn't muchwe did back there that means anything now."

  "You shouldn't say that," said Thar as if recognizing he had been tooremote. "Every hour of our acquaintance meant a great deal to me. I'llnever forgive myself for forgetting--but tell me how you learned I wasaboard the Ryke ship."

  "The Rykes have made us an offer. I wanted to find out the effects onworlds that had accepted. I learned Janisson VIII was one, so I startedlooking."

  "I'm so very glad you did, Sherm. You want me to confirm, of course, theadvisability of accepting the offer Liacan has made."

  "Confirm--or deny it," said Hockley.

  Thar spread his clawlike hands. "Deny it? The most glorious opportunitya planet could possibly have?"

  Something in Thar's voice gave Hockley a sudden chill. "How has itworked on your own world?"

  "Janisson VIII has turned from a slum to a world of mansions. Oureconomic problems have been solved. Health and long life are routine.There is nothing we want that we cannot have for the asking."

  "But are you _satisfied_ with it? Is there nothing which you had to giveup that you would like returned?"

  Waldon Thar threw back his head and laughed in high pitched tones. "Imight have known that would be the question you would ask! Forgive me,friend Sherman, but I had almost forgotten how unventuresome you are.

  "Your question is ridiculous. Why should we wish to go back to oureconomic inequalities, poverty and distress, our ignorant ploddingresearch in science? You can answer your own question."

  They were silent for a moment. Hockley thought his friend would havegladly terminated their visit right there and returned to his ship. Toforestall this, he leaned across the table and asked, "Yourscience--what has become of that?"

  "Our science! We never had any. We were ignorant children playing withmud and rocks. We knew nothing. We had nothing. Until the Rykes offeredto educate us."

  "Surely you don't believe that," said Hockley quietly. "The problem youworked on at the Institute--gravity at micro-cosmic levels. That was nota childish thing."

  Thar laughed shortly and bitterly. "What disillusionment you havecoming, friend Sherman! If you only knew how truly childish it was. Waituntil you learn from the Rykes the true conception of gravity, itsnature and the part it plays in the structure of matter."

  Hockley felt a sick tightening within him. This was not the Waldon Thar,the wild demon who thrust a
side all authority and rumor in his ownheadlong search for knowledge. It couldn't be Thar who was sittingpassively by, being _told_ what the nature of the Universe is.

  "Your scientists--?" Hockley persisted. "What has become of all yourresearchers?"

  "The answer is the same," said Thar. "We had no science. We had noscientists. Those who once went by that name have become for the firsttime honest students knowing the pleasure of studying at the feet ofmasters."

  "You have set up laboratories in which your researches are supervised bythe