"I'd tell him to wipe his feet. Ishtar doesn't permit gods with dirty feet in this house."
"But all gods have feet of clay."
"That wasn't what you said yesterday."
"This is not yesterday, Ira. I've seen a thousand gods and all had feet of clay. All were swindles, first"-Lazarus ticked it with his flngers-"to benefit the shamans; second, to benefit the kings; and third, always to benefit the shamans. Then I met the thousand-and-first." The Senior paused.
Ira looked at me. "At this point I am supposed to say, 'Do tell!' or some such insincerity, then the rest of you chime, 'Yes, yes, Lazarus!'-which has its merit; the rest of us would have at least twenty uninterrupted minutes for swilling and guzzling.
"But I'm going to fool him. He's leading up to how he killed the gods of the Jockaira with nothing but a toy gun and moral superiority. Since that lie is already in his memoirs in four conflicting versions, why should we be burdened with a fifth?"
"It was not a toy gun; it was a Mark Nineteen Remington Blaster at full charge, a superior weapon in its day-and after I carved them up, the stench was worse than Hormone Hall the morning after payday. And my superiority is never moral; it lies always in doing it first before he does it to me. But the point of the story Ira won't let me tell is that those globs were real gods because neither shamans nor kings were cut in on the loot; they were swindled, too. Those doggie people were property, solely for the benefit of their gods-gods in the sense that a man can be a god to a dog-which I had suspected first time around, when they drove poor Slayton Ford right out of his think tank and nearly killed him. But the second time, some eight or nine hundred years later, Andy Libby and I proved that this was so. 'How?' you ask-"
"We didn't ask."
"Thank you, Ira. Because after all that time the Jockaira had not changed in any way. Their speech, customs, buildings, you name it-were frozen. This can happen only with domesticated animals. A wild animal, such as man, changes his ways as conditions change; he adjusts. I've often thought I would like to go back and see if the doggie people managed to go feral after they lost their owners. Or did they simply lie down and die? But I wasn't too tempted; Andy and I were lucky to get off that planet still with our gonads, the way they were yapping at our heels."
"See what I mean, Justin? Version number three had the Jockaira falling into a coma the instant their masters were burned out-and Libby doesn't figure into that version at all."
"Papa Ira, you don't understand Buddy Boy-"
"- he doesn't tell-lies-"
"-he's a creative artist-"
"-speaking in parables-"
"-and he emancipated those Jabberwockies-"
"-who were cruelly oppressed."
Ira Weatheral said, "Justin, I had trouble coping with one Lazarus Long. But three of him? I surrender. Come here, Lori, and let me nibble your ear. Minerva, my lovely, let go of that, wash your pretty hands, then see if Justin needs more wine. Justin, you are the only one with news to impart. What news on the Bourse?"
"Falling steadily. If you own participations on Secundus, you had better have me carry back instructions to your broker. Lazarus, I noticed that you classed 'man' as a wild animal-"
"He is. You can kill him, but you can't tame him. The worst bloodbaths in history derive from attempting to tame him."
"I wasn't arguing it, Ancestor. I'm a mathematical historiographer; my nose is rubbed in that fact. But has news reached here of the flight of the 'Vanguard'? The original 'Vanguard,' I mean-pre-Diaspora."
Lazarus sat up so suddenly that he almost spilled Ishtar off his couch. He caught her. "Sorry, honey. Justin-keep talking."
"I didn't intend to talk about the 'Vanguard' herself-"
"I want to hear about her. I hear no objection; it is so ruled. Talk, Son!"
The protocol of a salon feast having gone to pieces, I talked, first reviewing some ancient history. Although it has almost been forgotten, the New Frontiers was not the first starship. She had an older sister, the Vanguard, that left the Solar system a few years earlier than the momentous date on which Lazarus Long commandeered the New Frontiers. She was headed for Alpha Centaun but never reached there-no signs of visitation were ever found on the one possible planet, a Terran type around Alpha Centauri A, the only G-type star in that volume.
But the ship herself was found by accident, in open orbit a long way from where she should have been by any rational assumption based on her mission-discovered nearly a century ago and this tells the difficulties of historiography when ships are the fastest means of communication; this story echoed back to Secundus via five colonial planets before it reached Archives-a few years after Lazarus left New Rome, a few years before I went to Boondock as (nominal) courier for the Chairwoman Pro Tem. Not that a century's delay matters, as the news interested only fusty specialists. To most people it was an uninteresting confirmation of an inconsequential bit of ancient history.
Everything in the Vanguard was dead while the ship herself was sleeping, her converter automatically shut down, her atmosphere almost leaked away, her records so destroyed, illegible, incomplete, or desiccated as to distress one. The Vanguard matters only to antiquarians and such-although she will remain an endless trove to deviants such as me-if we don't lose her again. Space is deep.
But the interesting thing about the find is that when the Vanguard was backtracked ballistically by computer, it showed that she had passed close to a Sol-type star seven centuries earlier. A check of that system turned up one planet Terran in type; it was found to be inhabited by H. sapiens. But not from the Diaspora. From the Vanguard.
"Lazarus, there is no possible doubt. Those few thousand savages on that planet-designated 'Pitcairn Island,' the catalog number escapes me-are descended from some who reached there, presumably by ship's boat, seven centuries before they were found. They had reverted to precivilization food-gathering stage, and had the planet rather than the ship been found first, it might have started another of those stories about a breed of humans not derived from old Terra.
"But their argot, fed into a linguistic analyzer-sysithesizer, played back as that version of English which was the 'Vanguard's' working language. Reduced vocabulary, new words, degenerate syntax-but the same language."
"Their myths, Justin, their myths!" Galahad-Obadiah demanded.
I was forced to admit that I did not have it all on tap but promised to make a full copy for him and send it via the first ship. "But, Senior, the interesting thing is that these savages, so wild and fierce that in dealing with them more scientists were killed than savages-"
"Hooray for them. Son, those savages were minding their own business on their own planet. An intruder can expect whatever he gets. Up to him to keep his guard up."
"I suppose so. Three scientists were eaten before they figured out how to deal with these pseudo-aborigines. By remotely controlled humanoid robots, that is. But the point I wanted to make was not their fierceness but their intelligence. Believe me or not, by every test that could be used, these wild men, these savages, checked superior to norm. Much superior. By the bell curve they land in the range of 'exceptionally gifted' to 'genius-plus.'"
"You expect me to be surprised? Why?"
"Well- Savages. And probably closely inbred."
"You're baiting me, Justin; you know better-although possibly Ira signed you to be Stimulator. All right, I'll take the bait. 'Savage' describes a cultural condition, not a degree of intelligence. Nor does inbreeding damage a gene pool if conditions for survival are extreme; since you describe them as cannibals, they probably ate their culls. From the shape the ship was in, it is fair to assume that their ancestors landed with little or nothing-possibly bare hands and a hatful of ignorance...in which case only the most able, the smartest, could survive. Justin, the crew of that first ship averaged far more intelligent than the Howards who escaped in the 'New Frontiers'; they were picked for intelligence-whereas the original Howard selectees were picked only for longevity, not for brainpower. Your savages were descended solely from geniuses...then passed through Allah alone knows how many ordeals that kill off the stupid and leave only the smartest to breed. What does that leave?"