Part 2

"Of course," said Mr. Third. "Sethos, there is a vehicle in the hall. Will you return home until you wish to contact us about therapy? You have clearance to come in directly when you decide."

"Yes--yes, certainly."

In his shock he was barely conscious of an autocar hurtling through the dark streets, the familiar trees of West Park looming above him. Then, once more he saw the lights at Matya's, heard the noise and laughter.

Stepping from the autocar, Sethos felt the night breeze on his face. He looked upward at the sky, saw the stars like fierce eyes that had been watching all along. The revelation was too much to take, he thought. Suddenly Earth itself, so vastly greater than the small reservation of men, and short hours ago a veritable infinity, seemed tiny and insignificant.

"Why, Sethos! Where have you been?"

It was Paton's voice. The old man stood alone on the path.

"Paton, you couldn't guess what has happened. It's incredible!"

"Come up and get a drink, boy. You look exhausted. I was alarmed when I found you'd left."

Sethos took his arm and faced him squarely.

"Paton--I left the zone, and was taken to Mr. First's office. And do you know who I met? I met a man from the stars! Think of it! A man from other worlds, Paton. Do you realize that human beings have _already_ traveled those fantastic distances, long ago? They must have forgotten about us on Earth!"

"Why, that is amazing. It just goes to show you, there's nothing new under the sun. Come along, and get that drink. I found some _exquisite_ wine."

Sethos stopped. His hand slipped from Paton's arm.

"Paton.... Did you hear what I said? Didn't it penetrate? I said man has _reached_ the stars! We already own the universe...."

"Of course. But I must say I don't know what we want with it all. Won't you join us now? Say, Ela has been looking for you."

"Ela? Yes, Ela. I want to see Ela...."

She came down the walk, and took him by the hands.

"_There_ you are, you elusive boy! I want to go home now. I simply have to adjust my crystals or they'll overflow the bedroom. Oh, Matya! Thank you for a splendid time. I'll be having you over next week, don't forget."

Then they were down from the hill and in the park, and the party flowed on behind them, forgetting.

* * * * *

They were home again, and Ela hurried off to add nutrients to the huge crystal sculpture that was growing in the bedroom. It glowed and vibrated in every color of the spectrum, and strange textures developed at those edges where Ela hovered with a glass dropper and her chemicals, touching, wiping, smoothing....

"Oh, it nearly got away from me over here. I _must_ get these reds to balance, or the whole thing will never refract properly at all. Did you know, Seth--they want to erect it in Central Plaza when I'm finished! Isn't that wonderful?" Her pleased face sparkled as she worked.

Sethos sat on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. Still stunned by Paton's reaction, he gazed absently at the floor.

"Ela, I met a man tonight. He is a very important man."

"Yes, there were _so_ many dolls there. I only wish I had met Andian again. He'd be so jealous if he knew I was acclaimed for exhibition in the Plaza."

"I don't mean at the party."

Ela turned. "Really, dear? Where was he?"

"In the office of Mr. First. He wanted to talk to me."

"You went outside zone? Whatever for?"

Sethos rose and took her shoulders firmly in his hands.

"This man is from another planet, Ela. He told me that people live all over the universe!"

"You don't say!"

"They left the earth a long time ago. They've traveled between the stars for centuries and centuries!"

"That's wonderful, dear. Help me with this pot of dye, will you, Seth?"

Sethos drew back, unbelieving.

"Ela.... The stars are trillions of miles apart. Men have learned to fly between them somehow!"

"It's breathtaking. The dye?"

"Quintillions, some of them! Think of it, Ela!" Sethos was shaking with agitation.

"Dearest," said Ela, moving away from him, "do you think we might move closer to Center after my Plaza crystal is finished? I'd like to be able to look out and see it every morning in the sun...."

She wasn't listening! _She didn't care!_

"Ela. Ela, love--listen to me! What's wrong with you? Can't you _see_?" His voice shrank to a whisper.

She smiled tolerantly. "Of course, dear."

"I'm telling you something no one has dreamed of before and you fuss about your crystals! Don't you ever get sick of this little cage? Don't you ever feel like getting out and running away?"

"Cage?"

"I'm telling you the earth can be ours! People can live like mechanoids if they'll only wake up and stop their childish play!"

"But why, dear?"

"_Why?_ We were _meant_ to, that's why. Because we've already _done_ it, or someone has. But _we're_ still here, left behind. We've got to catch up!"

"How silly." She returned to her chemicals.

Sethos felt a burning rage seize him. This woman he had loved--she was only a shell, a stick of wood, with no ideas of her own--no curiosity. Nothing! And she didn't have the faintest notion what he was talking about. She didn't _care_!

Furious, he grasped a heavy bronze ash tray and hurled it, hard as he could, into the mass of shining crystal that filled the room. With an explosive rainbow of color and a reverberating crash, it collapsed under the heavy blow into a million tiny fragments.

He stood, glaring at the scattered shards, waiting for Ela to leap at him, screaming and clawing him for the ruin he had made of her masterpiece.

But she only smiled weakly, and shrugged.

"Dear, that was very irrational. I think you had better request therapy one of these days. Now I shall have to start all over again. But don't fret, sweet. I had a much better idea anyway. I can get sensational results using fluorides."

She wouldn't fight him--she couldn't think of such an act, raised in a world where coercion and violence did not exist. She didn't care about _anything_!

Calm now, he knew what to do. Striding swiftly from the house, he went straight to the vehicle space. He got into an autocar and slammed the door.

"Direction, please."

"Contact Dispatching. Ask for permission to go directly to first level primary. Tell them it's Sethos."

Pause. "Permission granted."

* * * * *

"Come in, Sethos. What can I do for you?"

Sethos looked around the room anxiously.

"I want to make a request, Mr. First, if it isn't too late."

"Too late?"

"I would like to see Hol before he leaves. Is he still here?"

"Perhaps I can arrange it. His time is budgeted, you understand."

"I _must_ see him."

Mr. First was silent for a moment, and Sethos realized he was contacting someone. Then, he announced, "Yes, he's willing to see you. Go through this door. His compartment is the second down the corridor."

Sethos thanked him and hurried out. Finding the door, he hesitated an instant, then went in.

"Good morning," said Hol.

There was a second man standing beside him, dressed in the same manner and of the same stature as Hol.

"I had to see you," Sethos began hastily, not expecting to encounter two men.

"I see. This is Bek, a field observer. He was at your party last night."

Sethos remembered the stranger he had taken for a spying apprentice on the hillside. He felt embarrassed, but brushed it aside.

"I ... want you to take me with you."

Hol looked at his companion.

"I don't fit here," Sethos went on. "Mr. Third himself said I'm more intelligent than the others--I'm the only one who knows what your visit means. I want to go where people are interested in learning and progress. If I stay here I'll have to fool around with a hobby the rest of my life. There's no work, no expansion. You can see why I have to leave, can't you? I'm the _curious_ type."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Why? Can't you take me with you? What harm would it do?"

"Well, there are rules."

"But--I'm not just anybody. I'm an exception to the rule. I qualify as a genius--you mean there isn't a place for me _somewhere_ in the universe? Surely you can use a smart man!"

"You are a genius, that's true," said Bek, in a deep, serious voice. "As long as you remain here. Hundreds of centuries ago, your ancestors discovered principles that are not even expressible in your language, and learned to apply them to matter. Soon they knew no boundaries. The earth was not forgotten, but it was no longer important. It still is only a statistic. And we are here to examine it briefly. We have many others to visit.

"You see, Sethos, man changed out in space. He is a long way from your ancestors who started all this. But before those ancient men left, they established Earth as a control planet, to maintain forever a specimen of the original stock. It may have been done out of his egocentric ideas at the time, but it proved wise, for such a specimen is valuable in our research."

"Sethos," said Hol, seeing the bewilderment on the young man's face, "the mechanoids who attend your little community are more than one hundred thousand years old. That is how long your little culture has been faithfully preserved, just as it was then. You would not be capable of living elsewhere in the universe now. You could survive, perhaps, bright as you are, for a century or so, and then die, unhappy, maladjusted, never finding another of your own level. You are, after all, a savage."

Sethos was dazed.

He--an atavism, a prehistoric man! No wonder his people behaved as they did--they were merely a docile herd of caged animals, kept complacent and well-fed by the keepers outside. An extinct beast, left to be tended until the earth reached the end of its course as a flaming speck in the infinite cavern of space!

"You--you _must_ take me! I couldn't stand it now. How can I go back, knowing we're just a miserable experiment? Please--I'll go crazy!"

"Even now you exhibit one of your primitive traits--pride of being a man. But you will adjust to life. It is as it should be."

"But--"

"I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do."

"No, wait--I...."

The two men were gone.

Sethos stared. He was alone in the room. A constriction grew in his throat, and he felt weak. Indeed, man had changed.

"Sethos?"

Mr. First stood in the door.

"Yes...."

Now the pattern was clear. Sethos--the curious man, the genius--was doomed. He had lost a battle in which he never had a chance. Still, he had fought.

But walking down the corridor with the mechanoid, he knew that no one lost completely. He knew that Sethos, the human, the adjusted hobbyist, would soon look back on this night as though it were an ordinary phase of life.

Then, on the table, with the gently humming mechanism lowered to his head, the knot in his throat softened.

"All yours," said Mr. First to Mr. Third.

"A remarkable case," said Mr. Third. "Sometimes I wish we kept a record of his kind. It might be very interesting."

"Someday, perhaps. When our work grows dull."

End of Project Gutenberg's The Genius, by Con Pederson and Paul Orban