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Title: Cosmic enginers. Author: Clifford D. Simak

universe. It’s just like letting undesirable elements come in under our

immigration schedule on Earth. You can’t tell what sort of people they are.

They might be life forms that are inimical to us.”

“Or,” suggested Caroline, “they might be possessors of great scientific

accomplishments and a higher culture. They might add much to this

universe.”

“There isn’t much danger from them,” said Gary. “The Engineers are taking

care of them. They’re keeping them cooped up in the hypersphere they used

to cross interspace until suitable places for their settlement can be

found. The Engineers will keep an eye on them.”

Metallic feet grated on the floor and Engineer 1824 came across the room

toward the table.

He stopped before the table and folded his arms across his chest.

“Everything is all right?” he asked. “The food is good and you are

comfortable.”

“I’ll say we are,” said Herb.

“We are glad,” said the Engineer. “We have tried so hard to make it easy

for you. We are grateful that you came. Without you we never would have

saved the universe. We never would have gone to Old Earth to find the

secret of the energy, because we are not driven by restless imagination…

an imagination that will not let one rest until all has been explained.”

“We did what we could,” rumbled Kingsley. “But all of the credit goes to

Caroline. She was the one who worked out the mathematics for the creation

of the hypersphere. She is the only one of us who would have been able to

understand the equations relating to the energy and the inter-space.”

“You are right,” said the Engineer, “and we thank Caroline especially. But

the rest of you had your part to do and did it. It has made us very proud.”

“Proud,” thought Gary. “Why should he be proud of anything we’ve done?”

The Engineer caught his thought.

“You ask why we should be proud,” he said, “and I shall tell you why. We

have watched and studied you closely since you came, debating whether you

should be told what there is to tell. Under different circumstances we

probably would allow you to depart without a word, but we have decided that

you should know.”

“Know what?” thundered Kingsley.

The rest of them were silent, waiting.

“You are aware of how your solar system came into being?” asked the

Engineer.

“Sure,” said Kingsley. “There was a dynamic encounter between two stars.

Our Sun and an invader. About three billion years ago.”

“That invader,” said the Engineer, “was the Sun of my people, a sun upon

whose planets they had built a great civilization. My people knew well in

advance that the collision would take place. Our astronomers discovered it

first and after that our physicists and other scientists worked unceasingly

in a futile effort either to avert the collision or to save what could be

salvaged of our civilization when the encounter came. But century after

century passed, with the two stars swinging closer and closer together.

There seemed no chance to save anything. We knew that the planets would be

destroyed when the first giant tide from your Sun lashed out into space,

that the resultant explosion would instantly destroy all life, that more

than likely some of the planets would be totally destroyed.

“Our astronomers told us that our Sun would pass within two million miles

of your star, that it would grip and drag far out in space some of the

molten mass which your Sun would eject. In such a case we could see but

little hope for the continuance of our civilization.”

His thoughts broke off, but no one said a word. All eyes were staring at

the impassive metal face of the Engineer, waiting for him to continue.

“Finally, knowing that all their efforts were hopeless, my people

constructed vast spaceships. Spaceships designed for living, for spending

many years in space. And long before the collision occurred these ships

were launched, carrying select groups of our civilization. Representative

groups. Men of different sciences, with many records of our civilization.”

“The Ark,” said Caroline, breathlessly. “The old story of the Ark.”

“I do not understand,” said the Engineer.

“It doesn’t matter,” Caroline said. “Please go on.”

“From far out in space my people watched the two stars sweep past each

other,” said the Engineer. “It was as if the very heavens had exploded.

Great tongues of gas and molten matter speared out into space for millions

of miles. They saw their own Sun drag a great mass of this stellar material

for billions of miles out into space, strewing fragments of it en route.

They saw the gradual formation of the matter around your Sun and then, in

time, they lost sight of it, for they were moving far out into space and

the eruptive masses were settling down into a quieter state.

“For generation after generation, my people hunted for a new home. Men died

and were given burial in space. Children were born and grew old in turn and

died. For century after century the great ships voyaged from star to star,

seeking a planetary system on which they might settle and make their homes.

One of the ships ran too close to a giant sun and was drawn to its death.

Another was split wide open when it collided with a dark star. But the rest

braved the dangers and uncertainties of space, hunting, always hunting for

a home.”

Another pause and still there were no questions. The Engineer went on:

“But no planetary system could be found. Only one star in every ten

thousand has a planetary system, and they might have hunted for thousands

of years without finding one.

“Finally, tired out with searching, they decided to return to your Sun. For

while there was as yet no planetary system there, they knew that in ages to

come there would be.”

The cold wind from space was flicking Gary in the face again. Could this

tale the Engineer was telling be the truth? Was this why the Engineers had

been signaling to Pluto?

The Engineer’s thoughts were coming again.

“After many years they reached your Sun, and as they approached it they saw

that planets were beginning to form around the centers of relatively dense

matter. But there was something else. Swinging in a great, erratic orbit on

the very edge of this nebula-like mass of raw planetary matter was a planet

which they recognized. It was one of the planets of their old home star,

fourth out from their Sun. It had been stolen from their Sun, now was

swinging in an orbit of its own around its adopted star.

“My people had found a home at last. They descended to the surface of the

planet to find that its atmosphere was gone, that all life had vanished,

that all signs of civilization had been utterly wiped out.

“But they settled there and tried to rebuild, in part at least, the

civilization that was their heritage. But it was a heart-rending task. For

years and centuries they watched the slow formation of your solar system,

saw the planets take on shape and slowly cool, waiting against the day when

the race might occupy them. But the process was too slow. The work of

building their civilization anew, the lack of atmosphere, the utter cold of

space, were sapping the strength of my people. They foresaw the day when

they would perish, when the last one of the race would die. But they

planned for the future. They planned very carefully.

“They created us and gave us great ships and sent us out to try to find

them new homes, hoping against hope that we would be able to find them a

better home before it was too late. For out in space our ships separated,

each traveling its own way, bent on a survey of the entire universe if such

were necessary.”

“They created you?” asked Gary. “What do you mean? Aren’t you direct

descendants of that other race, the race of the invading star?”

“No,” said the Engineer. “We are robots. But so carefully made, so well

endowed with a semblance of life that we cannot be distinguished from

authentic life forms. I sometimes think that in all these years we may have

become life in all reality. I have thought about it a great deal, have

hoped so much that we might in time become something more than mere

machines.”

In the silence, Gary wondered why he had not guessed the truth before. It

had been there to see. The form, the very actions of the Engineers were

mechanistic. Once the Engineer had told them that he was bound by

mechanistic precepts, that he and his fellows possessed almost no

imagination. And machines, of course, would have no imagination.

But they had seemed so much like people, almost like human beings, that he

had thought of them as actual life, but cast in metallic rather than

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