Llurdian word “llanzlanate” has no Tellurian equivalent) of Llanzlan Klazmon the
Fifteenth of the Realm of the Llurdi. And in that building’s fifth sub-basement, in Hall
Prime of Computation, Klazmon and his Board of Advisors were hard at work.
That vast room, the first receptor of all the reports of the Realm, was three-quarters full
of receivers, recorders, analyzers-bewilderingly complex instrumentation of all kinds.
From most of these devices tapes were issuing-tapes that, en route to semi-permanent
storage, were being monitored by specialists in the hundreds of different fields of the
Llurdan-Jelmi economy.
Klazmon the Fifteenth and his Board, seated at a long conference table in hard-
upholstered “chairs” shaped to fit the Llurdan anatomy, were paying no attention to
routine affairs.
“I have called this meeting,” the ruler said, “to decide what can be done to alleviate an
intolerable situation. As you all know, we live in what could be called symbiosis with the
Jelmi; who are so unstable, so illogical, so birdbrained generally that they would destroy
themselves in a century were it not for our gentle but firm insistence that they conduct
themselves in all matters for their own best good. This very instability of their illogical
minds, however, enables them to arrive occasionally at valid conclusions from
insufficient data; a thing that no logical mind can do. These conclusions-they are
intuitions, really-account for practically all the advancement we Llurdi have made and
explain why we have put up with the Jelmi-yes, cherished them-so long.”
He paused, contemplating the justice of the arrangement he had just described. It did
not occur to him that it could in any way be described as “wrong.”
He went on: “What most of you do not know is that intuitions of any large worth have
become less and less frequent, decade by decade, over the last few centuries. It was
twelve years ago that the Jelm Jarxon elucidated the Jarxon’ band of the sixth order,
and no worth-while intuition has been achieved since that time. Beeloy, has your more
rigorous analysis revealed any new fact of interest?”
A young female stood up, preened the short fur back of her left ear with the tip of her
tail, and said, “No, sir. Logic can not be applied to illogic. Statistical analysis is still the
only possible tool and it cannot be made to apply to the. point in question, since it is
incapable of certainty and since the genius-type mind occurs in only one out of
thousands of millions of Jelmi. I found a very high probability, however-point nine nine
nine plus-that the techniques set up by our ancestors are wrong. In breeding for
contentment by destroying the discontented we are very probably breeding out the very
characteristics we wish to encourage.”
“Thank you, Beeloy. That finding was not unanticipated. Kalton, your report on Project
University, please.”
“Yes, sir.” An old male, so old that his fur was almost white, stood up. “Four hundred
males and the same number of females, the most intelligent and most capable Jelmi
alive, were selected and were brought here to the Llanzlanate. They were put into
quarters that were Jelm-type in every respect, even to gravity. They were given every
inducement and every facility to work-study and to breed.
“First, as to work-study. They have done practically nothing except waste time. They
seem to devote their every effort to what they call `escape’ by means of already-well
known constructions of the fifth and sixth orders-all of which are of course promptly
negated. See for yourselves what these insanely illogical malcontents are doing and
know for yourselves that, in its present form, Project University is a failure as far as
producing intuitions is concerned.”
Kalton picked up a fist-sized instrument between the thumbs of his left hand and a tri-di
“tank” appeared on the table’s top, in plain sight of every member of the Board. Then,
as he began to finger controls, a three-dimensional scene in true color appeared in the
tank; a smoothly-flowing, ever-shifting scene that moved from room to room and from
place to place as the point of view traversed the vast volume of the prison.
It did not look like a prison. The apartments, of which there were as many as the Jelmi
wanted, were furnished as luxuriously as the various occupants desired; with furniture
and equipment every item of which had been selected by each occupant himself or
herself. There were wonderful rugs and hangings; masterpieces of painting and of
sculpture; triumphs of design in fireplaces and tables and chairs and couches. Each
room or suite could be set up for individual control of gravity, temperature, pressure,
and humidity. Any imaginable item of food or drink was available on fifteen seconds’
notice at any hour of- the day or night.
In the magnificent laboratories evey known or conceivable piece of apparatus could be
had for the asking; the memory banks of the library would furnish in seconds any item
of information that had been stored in any one of them during all seventy thousand
years of the Realm’s existence.
And there were fully-equipped game and exercise rooms, ranging in size from tiny card-
rooms up to a full-sized football field, to suit every Jelman need or desire for play or for
exercise.
But not one of the hundreds of Jelmi observed-each one a perfect specimen physically,
as was plainly revealed by the complete absence of clothing-appreciated any one of
these advantages! Most of the laboratories were vacant and dark. The few scientists
who were apparently at work were not doing anything that made sense. The library was
not in use at all; the Jelmi who were reading anything were reading works of purely
Jelman authorship-mostly love stories, murder mysteries, and science fiction. Many
Jelmi seemed to be busy but their activities were as pointless as cutting out paper dolls.
“The pale, frail, practically hairless, repulsive, incomplete, illogical, and insane animals
refuse steadfastly to cooperate with us on any level.”
Any Earthman so frustrated would have snarled the sentence, but the Llurd merely
stated it as a fact. “You can all see for yourselves that as far as productive work is . . .
but hold!”
The viewpoint stopped moving and focussed sharply on a young man and a young
woman who, bending over a table, were working on two lengths of smooth yellow
material that looked something like varnished cambric. “Mergon and Luloy of planet
Mallidax,” Kalton said into the microphone. “What are you doing? Why are you so far
away from your own laboratories?”
Mergon straightened up and glared at what he thought was the point of origin of the
voice. “If it’s any of your business, funnyface, which it isn’t,” he said savagely, “I’m
building a shortlong whatsit, and Luloy has nothing to do with it. When I get it done I’m
personally going to tear your left leg off and beat you to death with the bloody end of it.”
“You see?” Kalton dispassionately addressed the other members of the Board. “That
reaction is typical.”
He manipulated controls and both Jelmi leaped to their feet, with all four hands pressed
to their buttocks. The fact that Luloy was a woman-scarcely more than a girl, in fact-was
of no consequence at all to Kalton. Even Llurdan sex meant very little to the Llurdi.
Jelman sex meant nothing whatever.
“Nerve-whip,” Kalton explained to his fellows. He dropped his controller into his lap and
the tri-di tank vanished. “Nothing serious-only sightly painful and producing only a little
ecchymosis and extravasation. Neither of those two beasts, however, will be at all
comfortable until they get back where they belong. Now, to continue my report:
“So much for failure to work-study. Failure-refusal to breed, while not possible of such
simple and easy demonstration, is no less actual, effective, and determined. A purely
emotional, non-logical, and ridiculous factor they call `love’ seems to be involved, as
does their incomprehensibly exaggerated, inexplicable craving for `liberty’ or `freedom’.”
The Llanzlan said thoughtfully, “But surely, unwillingness to breed cannot possibly
affect the results of artificial insemination?”
“It seems to, sir. Definitely. There is some non-physical and non-logical, but
nevertheless powerful operator involved. My assistants and I have not been able to
develop any techniques that result in any except the most ephemeral pregnancies.”
“You apparently wish to comment, Velloy?” Klazmon asked.
“I certainly do!” a middle-aged female snapped, giving one tautly-outstretched wing a
resounding whack with her tail. “Of course they haven’t! As Prime Sociologist I said five
years ago and I repeat now that no mind of the quality of those of the Jelmi here in the
llanzlanate can be coerced by any such gross physical means. Kalton talks of them and
thinks of them as animals-meaning lower animals. I said five years ago and still say that
they are not. Their minds, while unstable and completely illogical and in many instances
unsane to the point of insanity, are nevertheless minds of tremendous power. I told this
Board five years ago that the only way to make that project work-to cause selected