Alan E. Nourse Super Pack. Alan E. Nourse
“Let’s face it,” Dal said, “we bungled it somehow. We should have had help here right from the start. I don’t know where we went wrong, but we’ve done something.”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault,” Jack said gloomily. “If we had the right diagnosis, this wouldn’t have happened. And I still can’t see the diagnosis. All I’ve been able to come up with is a nice mess.”
“We’re missing something, that’s all,” Dal said. “The information is all here. We just aren’t reading it right, somehow. Somewhere in here is a key to the whole thing, and we just can’t see it.”
They went back to the data again, going through it step by step. This was Jack Alvarez’s specialty—the technique of diagnosis, the ability to take all the available information about a race and about its illness and piece it together into a pattern that made sense. Dal could see that Jack was now bitterly angry with himself, yet at every turn he seemed to strike another obstacle—some fact that didn’t jibe, a missing fragment here, a wrong answer there. With Dal and Tiger helping he started back over the sequence of events, trying to make sense out of them, and came up squarely against a blank wall.
The things they had done should have worked; instead, they had failed. A specific antibody used against a specific virus should have destroyed the virus or slowed its progress, and there seemed to be no rational explanation for the dreadful response of the uninfected ones who had been inoculated for protection.
And as the doctors sifted through the data, the Bruckian they had brought up from the enclosure sat staring off into space, making small noises with his mouth and moving his arms aimlessly. After a while they led him back to a bunk, gave him a medicine for sleep and left him snoring gently. Another hour passed as they pored over their notes, with Tiger stopping from time to time to mop perspiration from his forehead. All three were aware of the moving clock hands, marking off the minutes that the force screen could hold out.
And then Dal Timgar was digging into the pile of papers, searching frantically for something he could not find. “That first report we got,” he said hoarsely. “There was something in the very first information we ever saw on this planet....”
“You mean the Confederation’s data? It’s in the radio log.” Tiger pulled open the thick log book. “But what....”
“It’s there, plain as day, I’m sure of it,” Dal said. He read through the report swiftly, until he came to the last paragraph—a two-line description of the largest creatures the original Exploration Ship had found on the planet, described by them as totally unintelligent and only observed on a few occasions in the course of the exploration. Dal read it, and his hands were trembling as he handed the report to Jack. “I knew the answer was there!” he said. “Take a look at that again and think about it for a minute.”
Jack read it through. “I don’t see what you mean,” he said.
“I mean that I think we’ve made a horrible mistake,” Dal said, “and I think I see now what it was. We’ve had this whole thing exactly 100 per cent backward from the start, and that explains everything that’s happened here!”
Tiger peered over Jack’s shoulder at the report. “Backward?”
“As backward as we could get it,” Dal said. “We’ve assumed all along that these flesh-and-blood creatures down there were the ones that were calling us for help because of a virus plague that was attacking and killing them. All right, look at it the other way. Just suppose that the intelligent creature that called us for help was the virus, and that those flesh-and-blood creatures down there with the blank, stupid faces are the real plague we ought to have been fighting all along!”
Dal Breaks a Promise
For a moment the others just stared at their Garvian crewmate. Then Jack Alvarez snorted. “You’d better go back and get some rest,” he said. “This has been a tougher grind than I thought. You’re beginning to show the strain.”
“No, I mean it,” Dal said earnestly. “I think that is exactly what’s been happening.”
Tiger looked at him with concern. “Dal, this is no time for double talk and nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” Dal said. “It’s the answer, if you’ll only stop and think.”
“An intelligent virus?” Jack said. “Who ever heard of such a thing? There’s never been a life-form like that reported since the beginning of the galactic exploration.”
“But that doesn’t mean there couldn’t be one,” Dal said. “And how would an exploratory crew ever identify it, if it existed? How would they ever even suspect it? They’d miss it completely—unless it happened to get into trouble itself and try to call for help!” Dal jumped up in excitement.
“Look, I’ve seen a dozen articles showing how such a thing was theoretically possible ... a virus life-form with billions of submicroscopic parts acting together to form an intelligent colony. The only thing a virus-creature would need that other intelligent creatures don’t need would be some kind of a host, some sort of animal body to live in so that it could use its intelligence.”
“It’s impossible,” Jack said scornfully. “Why don’t you give it up and get some rest? Here we sit with our feet in the fire, and all you can do is dream up foolishness like this.”
“I’m not so sure it’s foolishness,” Tiger Martin said slowly. “Jack, maybe he’s got something. A couple of things would fit that don’t make sense at all.”
“All sorts of things would fit,” Dal said. “The viruses we know have to have a host—some other life-form to live in. Usually they are parasites, damaging or destroying their hosts and giving nothing in return, but some set up real partnership housekeeping with their hosts so that both are better off.”
“You mean a symbiotic relationship,” Jack said.
“Of course,” Dal said. “Now suppose these virus-creatures were intelligent, and came from some other place looking for a new host they could live with. They wouldn’t look for an intelligent creature, they would look for some unintelligent creature with a good strong body that would be capable of doing all sorts of things if it only had an intelligence to guide it. Suppose these virus-creatures found a simple-minded, unintelligent race on this planet and tried to set up a symbiotic relationship with it. The virus-creatures would need a host to provide a home and a food supply. Maybe they in turn could supply the intelligence to raise the host to a civilized level of life and performance. Wouldn’t that be a fair basis for a sound partnership?”
Jack scratched his head doubtfully. “And you’re saying that these virus-creatures came here after the exploratory ship had come and gone?”
“They must have! Maybe they only came a few years ago, maybe only months ago. But when they tried to invade the unintelligent creatures the exploratory ship found here, they discovered that the new host’s body couldn’t tolerate them. His body reacted as if they were parasitic invaders, and built up antibodies against them. And those body defenses were more than the virus could cope with.”
Dal pointed to the piles of notes on the desk. “Don’t you see how it adds up? Right from the beginning we’ve been assuming that these monkey-like creatures here on this planet were the dominant, intelligent life-forms. Anatomically they were ordinary cellular creatures like you and me, and when we examined them we expected to find the same sort of biochemical reactions we’d find with any such creatures. And all our results came out wrong, because we were dealing with a combination of two creatures—the host and a virus. Maybe the creatures on 31 Brucker VII were naturally blank-faced idiots before the virus came, or maybe the virus was forced to damage some vital part just in order to fight back—but it was the virus that was being killed by its own host, not the other way around.”
Jack studied the idea, no longer scornful. “So you think the