said. The vegetable had learned that this was his instruction for it to get the
Lumians’ own term for something from the Lumians. Inside the transmogrifier’s
control processor, the pulse-sequence triggered a branch to a library-update
routine.
EQUIVALENT ENGLISH WORD-FORM BEING REQUESTED, the screen before Seltzman
reported.
“Okay,” Seltzman acknowledged.
“Pray describe,” the vegetable invited Thirg.
“Knowledge, art, skill, power,” Thirg told it. “Creating, inventing— making of
machines. Comprehension of how machines operate. Understanding origin of first
machine. How could a first machine be possible?”
The screen responded:
FUNCTION SUBJECT ADDITIONAL DATA
Knowledge Machines First Machine
Ingenuity Operation/Operating —source of?
Expertise Principles? Machine origins?
Understanding (Domination?) Design/Manufacture Impossible?
Seltzman studied the display for a few seconds and replied, “Science and
technology.” He wasn’t going to go into the metaphysics of the second part, he
decided.
“Buzz-wheee Lumian word wowumpokkapokka get-good,” the vegetable advised Thirg.
“Need simplify other better whoosh wow.”
Thirg thought back to what he had said, and replied, “Knowledge of lifemaking
skills is worth more to Carthogians than too many weapons is worth.”
“Now try maybe-read buzz-buzz bakka-bakka speak,” the vegetable advised.
Seltzman read on the screen:
SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY KNOW-HOW BETTER DEAL FOR GENOESE THAN WEAPONS TOO
MANY/TOO MUCH/OVERKILL(?). IF TERRANS WANT TALOID AID FOR MANAGE MACHINE
COMPLEX, THEN TALOIDS WANT TERRAN AID FOR KNOW-HOW MACHINE COMPLEX.
“We’re back to the same stalemate,” Lang said. “I don’t think we’re going to get
much further for now. At least the translations are starting to make more sense,
so it’s not as if we had nothing to show for it. I vote we call it a day.”
“Me too,” another voice said on the circuit. “Let’s get back to base and out of
these things. I’m about ready for dinner.”
Giraud sighed. “Okay, we’ll wrap the session up there,” he agreed. “Tell them we
understand their position, but it involves a lot of complications that we’ll
have to go away and think about. And they have a lot of things to think over
too—without adequate defense there won’t be any Genoa, so they have to get their
priorities right. Finish up with the usual thanks and courtesies.”
When the laborious exchange was completed and the Taloids had added their
closing respects, everyone rose and exchanged hand-touch-ings in the manner that
had been adopted as combining aspects of both Terran and Taloid forms of
customary goodwill salutation. As the party left, technicians collected the
electronics equipment and switched off the lamps until the next session, and the
French paratroopers who had been stationed outside the conference room formed up
with an honorary complement of Arthur’s guards to escort the Terrans and their
Taloid hosts back to the vehicles. After a final round of parting formalities
the Terrans departed for their base.
“The only way to exert pressure on the population as a whole is through its
leaders,” Giraud said, gratefully free of his helmet inside the cabin of the
personnel carrier as the party drove back through the outskirts of Genoa. “But
how do you do it when the leader thinks he can step into the twenty-first
century overnight and become civilized instantly? I mean, their culture is still
barbaric—centuries away, at least, from being able to grasp technology. But how
can you make them understand that and persuade them they have to be patient
without jeopardizing everything you stand to gain? It’s a problem, Caspar.”
“It’s all a result of delusions of grandeur that they developed through talking
to Zambendorf and his crazies,” Caspar Lang said sourly. “We should never have
let him near them at all.”
“I agree, but it can’t be undone,” Giraud replied. “At least he’s out of it all
now. I hope you’re keeping him busy until we need him—enough to prevent his
getting into any more mischief.”
“All taken care of,” Lang said. “Osmond Periera and that wacky Canadian
psychologist have got him tied up full-time. It’s a wonder he gets a minute to
eat and sleep.”
“There’s no chance of his interfering in our business with Arthur, then?” Giraud
asked, just to be sure.
“No chance. Even if he had the time, how could he do anything? If he found a way
of getting down from the ship, he’d never be let through the base.”