The Test Colony Read online

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  THE TEST COLONY

  BY WINSTON MARKS

  Illustrated by Kelly Freas

  [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from If Worlds of ScienceFiction September 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: _Benson did his best to keep his colony from going native,but what can you do when the Natives have a rare human intelligence andknow all about the facts of life?_]

  It was the afternoon of our arrival. Our fellow members of the "testcolony" were back in the clearing at the edge of the lake, getting theirground-legs and drinking in the sweet, clean air of Sirius XXII. I wasstrolling along the strip of sandy beach with Phillip Benson, leader ofour group, sniffing the spicy perfume of the forest that crowded withintwenty feet of the water's edge.

  Half a billion miles overhead, Sirius shone with an artificially whiteglow. Somewhere on the horizon, Earth lay, an invisible, remote speck ofdust we had forsaken 24 dreary, claustrophobic months ago.

  The trip had taken its toll from all of us, even tough-minded PhilBenson. We both found it difficult to relax and enjoy the invigorating,oxygen-rich air and the balmy climate. As official recorder, I wastrying to think of words suitable to capture the magnificence, the sheerloveliness of the planet which would be our home for at least fouryears, perhaps forever.

  Each absorbed in his own thoughts, Benson and I were some 500 yards fromthe clearing when he stopped me with a hand on my arm. "Who is that?" hedemanded.

  Up the beach where he pointed, two naked forms emerged from the calmwaters. They skipped across the sand and began rolling togetherplayfully in the soft grasses at the forest's edge. Even at thisdistance they were visibly male and female.

  "I can't make them out," I said. My only thought was that one of theyoung couples had swum down ahead of us and was enjoying the firstprivacy attainable in two years.

  Benson's eyes were sharper. "Sam, they--they look like--"

  Our voices must have reached them, for they sprang apart and rose totheir feet facing us.

  "Like youngsters," I supplied.

  "We have no kids with us," Benson reminded me. He began to move forward,slowly, as though stalking a wild animal.

  "Wait, Phil," I said. "The planet is uninhabited. They can't be--"

  He continued shuffling ahead, and I followed. Within 20 paces I knew hewas right. Whoever they were they hadn't come with us!

  Benson stopped so quickly I bumped into him. "Look, Sam! Their hands andfeet! Four digits and--no thumbs!"

  I could now make out the details. The two forms were not quite human.The toes were long and prehensile. The fingers, too, were exceptionallylong, appearing to have an extra joint, but as Benson mentioned, therewas no opposing thumb.

  They stood well apart now, the female seeking no protection from themale. Curiosity was written in their faces, and when we stoppedadvancing they began edging forward until they were only five yardsaway.

  Their outlines, instead of becoming clearer, had fuzzed up more as theyapproached. Now it was evident that their bodies were lightly coveredwith a silky hair, some two or three inches long. It had already driedout in the warm sun and was standing out away from their skins likegolden haloes.

  They stood well under five feet tall, and in every detail, except thebody hair and digits, appeared to be miniature adults, complete withnavels.

  Even in the midst of the shock of surprise, I was taken by theirremarkable beauty. "They're true mammals!" I exclaimed.

  "Without a doubt," Benson said, eyeing the full contours of the lithelittle female. Her pink flesh tones were a full shade lighter than thoseof the male. Both had well-spaced eyes under broad foreheads. Their finefeatures were drawn into fearless, half-quizzical, half-good-naturedexpressions of deep interest. They stood relaxed as if waiting for aparley to begin.

  "This," said Benson, "is one hell of a note!"

  They cocked their heads at the sound like robins. I said, "Why? Theydon't appear very vicious to me."

  "Neither does man," Benson replied. "It's his brain that makes himdeadly. Look at those skulls, the ear placement, the eyes and forehead.If I know my skull formations, I think man has met his intellectualequal at last--maybe, even, his superior."

  "What makes you think they may have superior minds?" As a psychologist Ifelt Benson was jumping to a pretty quick conclusion.

  "The atmosphere. Forty percent oxygen. Invariably, on other planets,that has meant higher metabolisms in the fauna. In a humanoid animalthat strongly implies high mental as well as physical activity."

  As if to prove his point, the two little creatures tired of theone-sided interview, bent slightly at the knees and leaped at aforty-five degree angle high into the tree branches. The female caughtthe first limb with her long fingers and swung out of sight into thefoliage. The male hung by his long toes for a moment, regarding us withan inverted impish expression, then he, too, vanished.

  I grunted with disappointment. Benson said, "Don't worry, they'll beback. Soon enough."

  * * * * *

  As we returned to the clearing Jane Benson and Susan, my wife, came tomeet us. Although both brunettes rated high in feminine charms among theforty women of our group, somehow they appeared a little ungainly anduncommonly tall against my mental image of the little people we had justleft. Their faces were pale from the long interment in the ship, andbright spots of sunburn on cheekbones and forehead gave them a clownish,made-up appearance.

  "We've sorted and identified the fruits," Sue called to us. "Thehandbook is right. They're delicious! We've got a feast spread. Justwait until you--" She caught our expressions. "What's wrong?"

  Benson shrugged. "You girls go on ahead and get the crowd together. Ihave an important announcement to make." Jane pouted a little andhesitated, but Benson insisted. "Run along now, please. I want to gathermy thoughts."

  We trailed after them slowly. I didn't like Benson's moody reaction toour discovery of an intelligent life-form. To me it was exciting. Whatfabulous news I would have to send back with the first liaison ship tocontact us four years hence! And it would be entirely unexpected,because the original exploration party had failed to make the discovery.That in itself was an intriguing mystery. How could twenty-twoscientists, bent on a minute examination of a planet's flora and fauna,overlook the most fabulous creation of all--an animal virtually in men'simage? The only guess I could make was that they must belong to anomadic tribe small enough to escape discovery.

  Benson broke silence as the narrow beach strip began to widen into thegrassy plain where our ship squatted like a hemispherical cathedral."This poses so many problems," he said shaking his head.

  I said, "Phil, I think you're taking your job too seriously. You justcan't plan every detail of organizing our community down to therationing of tooth-powder."

  "Planning never hurt any project," Benson said.

  "I disagree," I told him. "You've had too long to dwell on your plans.Now the first unpredictable incident throws you into an uproar. Relax,Phil. Take your problems one at a time. We don't even know that we'llever see the little creatures again. Maybe they're shy."

  He scarcely heard me. He was a large, well-muscled man of 46 years, anex-college president and an able administrator. He and Jane, his wife,were the only two of our party older than the 35-year age limit. Hisbackground as a sociologist and anthropologist and his greater maturitywere important factors in stabilizing a new colony, but his point ofview had grown excessively conservative, it seemed to me.

  A cre
w of craftsmen with their busy little power saws had constructed asloping ship's ramp of rough planks sawed from the nearest trees. Westepped through and over the assembled people who were lying around inthe grass at the base of the ramp, and Benson mounted twenty feet aboveus at the entrance to the ship.

  Everyone was in high spirits, and a light cheer rippled through theassembly. Benson, however, ignored it and bent a thoroughly serious gazeout over his "flock".

  "Please give me your closest attention," he began and waited untileveryone was quiet. "Until further notice, we must proceed under ayellow alert during daylight hours and a red alert at night. All workparties leaving the ship will check with the scribe every hour on thehour. We will resume sleeping in the ship. Women are restricted