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as a magnificent experiment, a gigantic fleet of huge
transports working for two decades to accomplish the
Transfer. It had been done, so the politicians claimed,
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48
CACHALOT
to see what kind of civilization the cetaceans might
create on a world of their own.
In actuality, it had been done as penance, a racial
apology for nearly exterminating the only other in-
telligent life ever to evolve on Earth. The Cetacea
had possessed cognitive abilities for nearly eight hun-
dred years now. From all the reports she had eagerly
devoured, as keenly anticipated as they were infre-
quent, she knew they were still growing mentally.
Part of the Agreement of Transfer stated that they
would be left alone, to develop as they wished, in their
own fashion. Intensive monitoring of their progress,
or lack of it, was expressly forbidden by the Agree-
ment. But the idea that they would resist such study
to the point of open hostility was new to her, and
surprising.
"I would think by now they'd enjoy contact," she
said. "When you're building a society, conversation
with others is helpful and psychologically soothing.
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Our experiences with other space-going races has
shown that."
"Other space-going races didn't have the racial
trauma that the Cetacea did," Sam reminded her.
"And the society they're constructing, slowly and pain-
fully, is different from any we've yet encountered.
Maybe it's a reflection of their size, but I think they
have a slower and yet greater perspective than we
do. Their outlook, their view of societies as well as of
the universe, is totally different from ours.
"When they were first settled here, they were of-
fered, for example, aid in developing devices with
which they could manipulate the physical world. Tools
for creatures without hands or tentacles. They refused.
They're not developing as a larger offshoot of man-
kind. They're going their own way.
"Sure, it seems slow, but as I said, their outlook is
different from ours. A few experts do study them a
little, and depart discouraged in the belief that in the
CACHALOT 49
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past half a millennium the Cetacea haven't made any
progress." There was a twinkle in his eye.
"Then there are some of us on Cachalot who think
they are making progress. Not progress as we would
consider it. See, I don't think they care much for what
we call civilization. They're content to swim, calve,
eat, and think. It's the last of those that's critical. We
really know very little about how they think, or even
what they think about. But some of us think that may-
be our original colonists are progressing a little faster
than anyone realizes."
"All the reports I've read are fascinating in that
respect, Sam. I understand they've developed and
discarded dozens of new religions."
"You'd know more about that than I," Mataroreva
confessed. "I'm just a peaceforcer. My interest in the
Cetacea is personal, not professional. I only know as
much about them as I do because I live on their world.
"As to whether we'll encounter any of them, that
I can't say. They've multiplied and done well on this
world, but it's still incomprehensibly vast. We are duty-
bound not to seek them out."
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"Don't you think that under the present circum-
stances we might make an exception?"
Sam considered the matter, spoke cautiously. "If
it's vital to your research, well, we might try locating
a herd or two. But only if it's absolutely necessary."
"Whom do I have to clear it with?"
"With the cetaceans, of course. No arguing per-
mitted, by the way." He spoke sternly. "H we do hap-
pen to run into a pod and they don't want to stop and
chat, there must be no disappointed tantrums. If we
pester them beyond a certain point, they're fully within
their rights to smash the boat and its inhabitants."
They were approaching the southern tip of the atoll.
Curving beaches reached out and around to embrace [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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