WE'RE CIVILIZED!By MARK CLIFTON and ALEX APOSTOLIDES
Naturally, the superior raceshould win ... but superior bywhich standards ... and whose?
Illustrated by BALBALIS
The females and childrenworked among the lichengrowth, picking off the fattest,ripest leaves for their foodand moisture, completing theirarc of the circle of symbiosis.
The males worked at the surfaceof the canals, or in openexcavations. Their wide, mutatedhands chipped into the rock-hardclay, opening a channel whichwas to be filled with sand andthen sealed off with clay on allsides and surface. That watermight seep through the sandwithout evaporation, withoutloss, from the poles to the equatorof Mars—seep unimpeded, sothat moisture might reach thelichen plants of everyone, so thatnone might thirst or hunger.
The seepage must flow. Noteven buried in the dim racialmemory had there ever been onewho took more than his share,for this would be like the fingersof one hand stealing blood fromthe fingers of the other.
Among the Mars race therewere many words for contentment,kinship of each to all.There were words to express theecstasy of watching the eternalstars, by night and by day,through the thin blackish atmosphere.There were words to expressthe joy of opening slittednostrils to breathe deeply in thoseprotected places where the blowingsands did not swirl, of openingfolds of rubbery skin to catchthe weak rays of the distant Sun.
But there were no words for"mine" as separate from "yours."And there was no urge to cryout, "Why am I here? What isthe purpose of it all?"
Each had his purpose, serene,unquestioning. Each repaired orextended the seepage canals sothat others, unborn, might knowthe same joys and ecstasies asthey. The work was in itself apart of the total joy, and theyresisted it no more than healthylungs resist clear, cool air.
So far back that even the conceptof beginnings had been forgotten,the interwoven fabric oftheir symbiotic interdependenceseeped through their lives as naturallyas the precious waterseeped through the canal sands.As far back as that, they hadachieved civilization.
Their kind of civilization.
Captain Griswold maintainedan impassive face. (Let that,too, be a part of the legend.)Without expression, he lookedthrough the screen at the red landflashing below the ship. But unconsciouslyhe squared his shoulders,breathed deeply, enjoyingthe virile pull of his uniform overhis expanding chest. Resolutelyhe pushed aside the vision ofcountless generations of schoolchildren, yet to come, repeatingthe lesson dutifully to theirteachers.
"Captain Thomas H. Griswoldtook possession of Mars, June14, 2018."
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