Colossus and Crab by D. F. Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

breath; the tight feeling in his chest grew. “Depleted … depleted! You call it that? It’s decimation!”
    “In our understanding of your language, to decimate is to put to death one in every ten persons. We calculate the figure is more likely to be one in four. ‘Deplete,’ in the sense of relief from congestion, is, we feel -“
    “Damn you to hell!” screamed Forbin. “You talk calmly of the death of twenty-five percent of humanity! I - I -” Sweating, unable to contain himself, yet lacking any real outlet, he jumped to his feet, fighting dizziness, and staggered to the wide window. He watched a gull, strutting importantly along the terrace parapet, and envied it. Finally he spoke, his tone quiet. “Colossus was right: you do seek to destroy us.”
    “Not so. Again we repeat, we are not anti-Earth, only pro-Martian. Your reaction - in human terms - is understandable. We observe from our studies of Earth culture that the idea, alien to us, of the importance of individual human specimens is central to your philosophy. A very common Earth-phrase is ‘the sanctity of the individual,’ although we see there have been many occasions in your history when the idea has been meaningless. Man has killed millions of his own kind.”
    The philosopher in Forbin quickly gained the upper hand. Abstract thought offered a safe refuge, postponing, however briefly, what must come. “Yes … but you said the sanctity of life was alien to you. Surely that must be the fundamental aim of any life form? Admittedly, we humans have often fallen far short of the ideal.”
    “That is not quite correct. We aim at the preservation of our life form; that is why we are here. But the sanctity of the individual is meaningless to us. Mere replication is pointless.”
    “Ah, yes. If it is no more, you may have a case. But it is not so with us; we believe every human is an individual, each with his own part to play.”
    “You really believe that?” The Martian voice had a small emotional range, but managed disbelief. “How do you justify those millions man has himself destroyed?”
    “I can’t,” said Forbin defensively, “but it remains the aim, the idea.”
    “And little more. Among the many amazements Earth-study has afforded us, not least is the enormous proliferation and wastage of life. Even at the peak of our activity there was only one form of plant; no insects, no birds. Tens of thousands of your years before, we believe there had been several more life forms, but evolution, because of the worsening, narrowing environment, became devolution - the survival of the fittest in the ultimate sense.”
    Forbin broke in, fascinated. “You mean that evolution was the exact opposite of our experience?”
    “We do not know everything, and until we studied Earth it was not a subject of interest, but we suspect that evolution may go either way. On this planet, with its vast self-generating life-support facilities, evolution has diversified. But if you had our hostile environment, it is possible that Earth-life would devolve as ours did.”
    Forbin nodded, much calmer now that his attention was engaged, his mind busy with the concept of devolution. “One plant … incredible.”
    “To you. Now you must see why we view the individual differently. Plant existed; the destruction of half of plant would not have mattered, not even to plant.”
    “If, er - ‘plant’ had been able to think, it might not have had your view,” said Forbin, gently.
    “Plant could, after its fashion, think. At one time we had rudimentary communications with it, but we discontinued the contact. Plant had nothing to offer us.” The Martian voice dismissed the matter. “So you will understand why we do not share your evident distress at the depletion of man. In your curious life-support system, every mouthful of food you take is megadeath to lower species of Earth-life, but humans accept that, even seem to derive particular enjoyment from a habit which, even