A young Hripirt, her foretabs still velvety, brought my order of crumpets and jam. “I hope this is satisfactory, Screener Mullnor,” she said. Her afttabs were faintly humming, so I knew she wasn’t finished. Highly unusual, for here at the refectory, the staff interferes with members as little as possible. Serve and scoot, that’s the policy.
Still, I thought I knew what was coming, and I was right. The little thing hummed louder and asked, “If you don’t mind, Screener, could you tell me where you got the Terran handicrafts you are wearing? I’d love to purchase a pair for myself.”
“Perhaps we could come to a financial arrangement,” I said.
The server practically trilled. “Oh, thank you, Screener!” She looked around, probably to check if her supervisor was watching, then presented her all-purpose unit. I produced mine, and, as she was eager, we completed the transaction in moments. She slid the human articles onto her foretabs and scurried back into the kitchen.
Delip’s afttabs murmured humorously. “I fear you may have started a trend, Mullnor.”
“I’ve no objection to making a small profit from the foolishness of youth,” I said, sampling the crumpets. They were nicely done, and I quite enjoyed the boy-senberry jam, a new flavor for me. I logged a note to order some.
Bingokk continued messing about with his unit. Finally, he put it down and blatted sharply. “I still can’t figure it out. You must tell me how you came to a decision so quickly. As I had it, you were screening three groups, each with twelve to twenty individuals. How did you narrow it down?”
“Last Sunday, I immediately eliminated the entire group known as the San Fernando Valley Rowdy Riotous Raider Nation on the basis of irrational behavior.”
“An entire nation consisting of a few entities?” asked Delip.
“They do not comprise a recognized state. They are supporters of an athletic team.”
Both Delip and Bingokk zzurbed in understanding.
Our leaders prepared special lessons on Terran sporting rituals, mandatory viewing for all Screeners. I found them appalling. Had I had my way, the Rowdy Raider adherents would never have made it onto a shortlist for screening, but then, I confess to being something of an elitist.
“I did not mind their outlandish face-painting and peculiar garb,” I said, “but while at the sporting event, they all became ‘drunk and disorderly,’ violating numerous local laws. Nor, I discovered, were these their first infractions. Obviously, I could not select a lawbreaker as a candidate.”
“No, for if they break their own laws, they might not respect ours,” said Delip.
Bingokk waved his tentacles. “And the next group you eliminated?”
I hummed pleasantly, remembering. “A gathering of fans and authors of speculative fiction. I enjoyed being with them; of all humans, they are most at ease facing the reality of visitors from another world.”
“So why did you not make your selection from there?” Bingokk asked. The low desperate tone of his afttabs made me wonder just how detailed his pools were. Perhaps he was not merely wagering on which of us would make our selections quickly, but from which of our focus groups we would choose.
“They scored extremely well on intelligence and creativity; some of the authors had also high marks for cunning, avarice, and duplicity—you should hear some of the wrangling they engage in regarding their internal political offices and awards. But they showed too much individualism and initiative. Our leaders want visitors who are not herd-beasts, like those Delip encountered, but neither do they want Terrans too inclined to stray from the path and explore on their own. Finally, they are definitely unusual sorts, even among humans, and not truly representative of the species.”
Bingokk blatted, “I should have known you’d be this stuffy! When will I ever learn?” He pounded his unit on the table until the Washington-screener began buzzing again and the server, her pretty pink-garbed foretabs twitching, motioned for him to stop.
I scooped the last globs from the bottom of the jar of strawberry preserves and started on the plum jam. Bingokk’s financial troubles were no concern of mine. “One odd thing happened when I surveyed this group,” I commented. “There is apparently a famous fictional piece in which the aliens arrived on Terra and took away humans, intending to cook them on their home world. At the gathering, people kept asking me if I was there ‘to serve man,’ and laughing rather nervously.”
“That is not odd, Mullnor, it’s disgusting,” said Delip. “What a concept! I am relieved you did not choose from this group of candidates.”
“So you picked one of the ornithologists,” Bingokk said gloomily. “I never would have expected it.”
“They are not accredited experts on avian species,” I said. “Merely well-educated enthusiasts. They journey into undeveloped areas, looking for birds.”
“Then what do they do with them?” Delip asked.
I didn’t answer immediately. I was watching the little server chatting with yet another diner and giving a demonstration of the foretab-covers. Most amusing.
“They don’t do anything. They count the different species,” I finally said. “It is a pleasant pastime.”
Delip mused, “Well, perhaps this is a good test of the Terrans, to see how they fare in the wilderness in which they evolved.”
Poor Delip. She obviously did not pay attention to the human history lessons. Terrans evolved on another land mass altogether different from this one. I chose not to reveal her ignorance, but merely said, “No, they only stay for brief periods in the wildlife regions, so it is not indicative of their survival skills.”
“Which one did you pick?” Bingokk asked. “I must know.”
I trilled lightly. “I shall describe my final four candidates, all of them high scorers for intelligence and common sense. You tell me which one I chose on the basis of the other factors. Come, we shall have a wager.” I slid my unit toward his.
“Very well! Maybe a chance to get some of my losses back!”
“The first was the group’s leader, Joe. He is a strong man of middle years, well respected by the others. He organized the trip, as he has done many times before. This included scheduling transport—the site was some distance from the organization’s headquarters. When one individual damaged her optical equipment, he developed an ingenious solution to her problem.
“The second candidate was the youngest, a teen-aged boy named Spencer. He proved the best at identifying bird species, made numerous realistic sketches of the creatures, but generally was silent. He spent the entire bus journey playing with a small gaming unit and wore a shirt emblazoned ‘New York Knicks.’
“The third was another middle-aged man, this one called Mort. Mort showed an inconsistent ability to identify birds, often loudly proclaiming a sighting was of a particular species, only to be corrected by Spencer or Joe. I mention him only because of an incident at the end of the trek.
“I explained to the humans that while the fresh mountain air and unspoiled surroundings were delightful, I found their hobby rather pointless. I then demonstrated the Sense-Surround feature of my unit, and provided them with an exact total of the avian species in the area: twenty-one Stellar’s Jays, thirty-eight California quail, nineteen white-breasted nuthatches, and so on.”
“What did Mort do that was of interest?” asked Delip.
“He approached me, wanting to buy my unit. Claimed he would win the Birding World Series with it, an event of competitive bird-counting.”