James P Hogan. Inherit The Stars. Giant Series #1

prime cause of many bronchial and chest complaints not suffered by

four-footed animals. That’s hardly perfection, is it?’~’ Danchekker

took a sip of water and made an appealing gesture to the room in

general.

“So, we see that any idea of convergence toward the ideal is not

supported by the facts. Charlie exhibits all our faults and

imperfections as well as our improvements. No, I’m sorry-I

appreciate that these questions are voiced in the best tradition of

leaving no possibility unprobed and I commend you for them, but

really, we must dismiss them.”

Silence enveloped the room at his concluding words. On all

sides, everybody seemed to be staring thoughtfully through the

table, through the walls, or through the ceiling.

Caldwell placed his hands on the table and looked around until

satisfied that nobody had anything to add.

“Looks like evolution stays put for a while longer,” he grunted.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Danchekker nodded without looking up.

“However,” Caldwell continued, “the object of these meetings is to

give everyone a chance to talk freely as well as listen. So far,

some people haven’t had much to say-especially one or two of the

newcomers.” Hunt realized with a start that Caidwell was looking

straight at him. “Our English visitor, for example, whom most of

you already know. Dr. Hunt, do you have any views that we ought to

hear about. . . ?”

Next to Caldwell, Lyn Garland was making no attempt to conceal a

wide smile. Hunt took a long draw at his cigarette and used the

delay to collect his thoughts. In the time it took for him to

coolly emit one long, diffuse cloud of smoke and ifick his hand at

the ashtray, all the pieces clicked together in his brain with the

smooth precision of the binary regiments parading through the

registers of the computers downstairs. Lyn’s persistent

cross-examinations, her visits to the Ocean, his presence

here-Caldwell had found a catalyst.

Hunt surveyed the array of attentive faces. “Most of what’s been

said reasserts the accepted principles of comparative anatomy and

evolutionary theory. Just to clear the record for anyone with

misleading ideas, I’ve no intention of questioning them. However,

the conclusion could be summed up by saying that since Charlie

comes from the same ancestors as we do, he must have evolved on

Earth the same as we did.”

“That is so,” threw in Danchekker.

“Fine,” Hunt replied. “Now, all this is really your problem, not

mine, but since you’ve asked me what I think, I’ll state the

conclusion another way. Since Charlie evolved on Earth, the

civilization he was from evolved on Earth. The indications are that

his culture was about as advanced as ours, maybe in one or two

areas slightly more advanced. So, we ought to find no end of traces

of his people. We don’t. Why not?”

All heads turned toward Danchekker.

The professor sighed. “The only conclusion left open to us is

that whatever traces were left have been erased by the natural

processes of weathering and erosion,” he said wearily. “There are

several possibilities: A catastrophe of some sort could have wiped

them out to the extent that there were no traces; or possibly their

civilization existed in regions which today are submerged beneath

the oceans. Further searching will no doubt produce solutions to

this question.”

“If any catastrophe as violent as that occurred so recently, we

would already know about it,” Hunt pointed out. “Most of what was

land then is still land today, so I can’t see them sinking into the

ocean somewhere, either; besides, you’ve only to look at our

civilization to see it’s not confined to localized areas-it’s

spread all over the globe. And how is it that in spite of all the

junk that keeps turning up with no trouble at all from primitive

races from around the same time-bones, spears, clubs, and so

on-nobody has ever found a single example of anything related to

this supposed technologically advanced culture? Not a screw, or a

piece of wire, or a plastic washer. To me, that doesn’t make

sense.”

More murmuring broke out to mark the end of Hunt’s critique.

“Professor?” Caldwell invited comment with a neutral voice.

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