By CLIFFORD D. SIMAK. Line DESERTION. already had taken over the . he'd never gone so far as knowledge . Sending out one at a time, they'd last. Desertion by Clifford D. Simak, Vocabulary: Write the vocabulary definition and a synonym and antonym. Aberration something not part of the normal. DESERTION BY CLIFFORD D SIMAK PDF - Desertion -- Ch. 4 (Clifford D. Simak, ). It was not the Jupiter he had known through the televisor. He had expected it.
|Language:||English, Japanese, Portuguese|
|Genre:||Fiction & Literature|
|ePub File Size:||29.60 MB|
|PDF File Size:||10.47 MB|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Sign up for free]|
Simak, C.D., , Desertion, in Rabkin, E.S. (ed) Science Fiction: A Historical Anthology Oxford University Press, New York - "Desertion", written by Clifford D. Simak in , follows the story of an army commander and his dog. The story is set on Jupiter, where a military commander, . Desertion book. Read 10 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Two volunteers who have had their bodies turned into “Lopers” so that the.
Or the fault might lie with Man, be inherent with the race. Some mental aberration which, coupled with what they found outside, wouldn't let them come back. Although it might not be an aberration, not in the human sense. Perhaps just one ordinary human mental trait, accepted as commonplace on Earth, would be so violently at odds with Jovian existence that it would blast human sanity. Claws rattled and clicked down the corridor.
Listening to them, Fowler smiled wanly. It was Towser coming back from the kitchen, where he had gone to see his friend, the cook. Towser came into the room, carrying a bone.
He wagged his tail at Fowler and flopped down beside the desk, bone between his paws. For a long moment his rheumy old eyes regarded his master and Fowler reached down a hand to ruffle a ragged ear. He straightened and swung back to the desk. His hand reached out and picked up the file. Bennett had a girl waiting for him back on Earth.
Andrews was planning on going back to Mars Tech just as soon as he earned enough to see him through a year. Olson was nearing pension age. All the time telling the boys how he was going to settle down and grow roses. Carefully, Fowler laid the file back on the desk. Sentencing men to death. Miss Stanley had said that, her pale lips scarcely moving in her parchment face. Marching men out to die while he, Fowler, sat here safe and comfortable.
They were saying it all through the dome, no doubt, especially since Allen had failed to return. They wouldn't say it to his face, of course. Even the man or men he called before his desk and told they were the next to go, wouldn't say it to him.
He picked up the file again. Bennett, Andrews, Olson. There were others, but there was no use in going on. Kent Fowler knew that he couldn't do it, couldn't face them, couldn't send more men out to die. He leaned forward and flipped up the toggle on the intercom. Towser's teeth were getting bad. Sending out one at a time, they'd last longer, give you twice the satisfaction.
He's been with you all these years --" "That's the point," said Fowler. Not a bad body, he decided, and grimaced at remembering how he had pitied the Lopers when he glimpsed them through the television screen. For it had been hard to imagine a living organism based upon ammonia and hydrogen rather than upon water and oxygen, hard to believe that such a form of life could know the same quick thrill of life that humankind could know.
Hard to conceive of life out in the soupy maelstrom that was Jupiter, not knowing, of course, that through Jovian eyes it was no soupy maelstrom at all. The wind brushed against him with what seemed gentle fingers and he remembered with a start that by Earth standards the wind was a roaring gale, a two-hundred-mile an hour howler laden with deadly gases.
Pleasant scents seeped into his body. And yet scarcely scents, for it was not the sense of smell as he remembered it. It was as if his whole being was soaking up the sensation of lavender -- and yet not lavender. It was something, he knew, for which he had no word, undoubtedly the first of many enigmas in terminology. For the words he knew, the thought symbols that served him as an Earthman would not serve him as a Jovian.
The lock in the side of the dome opened and Towser came tumbling out -- at least he thought it 7 must be Towser. He started to call to the dog, his mind shaping the words he meant to say. But he couldn't say them. There was no way to say them. He had nothing to say them with. For a moment his mind swirled in muddy terror, a blind fear that eddied in little puffs of panic through his brain.
How did Jovians talk? How -- Suddenly he was aware of Towser, intensely aware of the bumbling, eager friendliness of the shaggy animal that had followed him from Earth to many planets.
As if the thing that was Towser had reached out and for a moment sat within his brain. And out of the bubbling welcome that he sensed, came words. Thought symbols in his brain, communicated thought symbols that had shades of meaning words could never have. Lately I've been feeling pretty punk. Legs stiffening up on me and teeth wearing down to almost nothing.
Hard to mumble a bone with teeth like that.
Desertion by Clifford D. Simak
Besides, the fleas give me hell. Used to be I never paid much attention to them.
A couple of fleas more or less never meant much in my early days. I tried to say things to you, but I couldn't make the grade. Fowler hesitated. Fowler followed, testing his legs, testing the strength in that new body of his, a bit doubtful at first, amazed a moment later, then running with a sheer joyousness that was one with the red and purple sward, with the drifting smoke of the rain across the land. As he ran the consciousness of music came to him, a music that beat into his body, that surged 8 throughout his being, that lifted him on wings of silver speed.
Music like bells might make from some steeple on a sunny, springtime hill. As the cliff drew nearer the music deepened and filled the universe with a spray of magic sound. And he knew the music came from the tumbling waterfall that feathered down the face of the shining cliff. Only, he knew, it was no waterfall, but an ammonia-fall and the cliff was white because it was oxygen, solidified. He skidded to a stop beside Towser where the waterfall broke into a glittering rainbow of many hundred colors.
Literally many hundred, for here, he saw, was no shading of one primary to another as human beings saw, but a clearcut selectivity that broke the prism down to its last ultimate classification. Vibrations of water falling. He stared, astounded, at the waterfall and swiftly his mind took the many colors and placed them in their exact sequence in the spectrum. Just like that. Just out of blue sky. Out of nothing, for he knew nothing either of metals or of colors. Using them to figure out things we should have known all the time.
Maybe the brains of Earth things naturally are slow and foggy. Maybe we are the morons of the universe. Maybe we are fixed so we have to do things the hard way.
He sensed other things, things not yet quite clear. A vague whispering that hinted of greater things, of mysteries beyond the pale of human thought, beyond even the pale of human imagination. Mysteries, fact, logic built on reasoning. Things that any brain should know if it used all its reasoning power.
Because our human bodies were poor bodies. Poorly equipped in certain senses that one has to have to know. Perhaps even lacking in certain senses that are necessary to true knowledge. Back there were men who couldn't see the beauty that was Jupiter. Men who thought that swirling clouds and lashing rain obscured the planet's face.
Unseeing human eyes. Poor eyes. Eyes that could not see the beauty in the clouds, that could not see through the storm. Bodies that could not feel the thrill of trilling music stemming from the rush of broken water.
Men who walked alone, in terrible loneliness, talking with their tongue like Boy Scouts wigwagging out their messages, unable to reach out and touch one another's mind as he could reach out and touch Towser's mind.
Shut off forever from that personal, intimate contact with other living things. He, Fowler, had expected terror inspired by alien things out here on the surface, had expected to cover before the threat of unknown things, had steeled himself against disgust of a situation that was not of Earth. But instead he had found something greater than Man had ever known. A swifter, surer body. A sense of exhilaration, a deeper sense of life. A sharper mind.
Desertion by Clifford D. Simak, 1944
A world of beauty that even the dreamers of the Earth had not yet imagined. I have a feeling For he had the feeling, too. The feeling of high destiny.
A certain sense of greatness. A knowledge that somewhere off beyond the horizons lay adventure and things greater than adventure. Those other five had felt it, too.
Had felt the urge to go and see, the compelling sense that here lay a life of fullness and of knowledge. That, he knew, was why they had not returned. Fowler took a step or two, back toward the dome, then stopped. Back to the dome. Back to that aching, poison-laden body he had left.
It hadn't seemed aching before, but now he knew it was. Back to the fuzzy brain. Back to muddled thinking. Back to the flapping mouths that formed signals others understood. Back to eyes that now would be worse than no sight at all. Back to squalor, back to crawling, back to ignorance. We'll find things --" 10 Yes, they could find things. Civilizations, perhaps. Civilizations that would make the civilization of Man seem puny by comparison.
Beauty and, more important, an understanding of that beauty. And a comradeship no one had ever known before -- that no man, no dog had ever known before.
And life. The quickness of life after what seemed a drugged existence.
What was the conversion process designed to do? Describe the conditions on Jupiter that made it impossible for people to live in human form outside of the domes. How does Fowler s sense of reality change after he goes through the conversion process?
What assumption did Fowler and Miss Stanley make about why Allen and the others never returned? Provide examples from the story. Would you have made the same decision? Explain your reasoning. But she wasn't. She was the top-notch conversion unit operator in the Solar System and she didn't like the way he was doing things. He may find out what it is.
You never let a chance go by. This is your chance. You knew it was when this dome was picked for the tests.
See a Problem?
If you put it through, you'll go up a notch or two. No matter how many men may die, you'll go up a notch or two. Please be sure your machine - " "My machine," she told him, icily, "is not to blame, lt operates along the co-ordinates the biologists set up. What she said was true, of course.
The biologists had set up the co-ordinates. But the biologists could be wrong. Just a hairbreadth of difference, one iota of digression and the converter would be sending out something that wasn't the thing they meant to send. A mutant that might crack up, go haywire, come unstuck under some condition or stress wholly unsuspected.
For Man didn't know much about what was going on outside. Only what his instruments told him was going on. And the samplings of those happenings furnished by those instruments and mechanisms had been no more than samplings, for Jupiter was unbelievably large and the domes were very few.He had expected a hell of ammonia rain and stinking fumes and the deafening, thundering tumult of the storm.
Only what his instruments told him was going on. The change in how the environment was experienced with new senses was really interesting. Eyes that could not see the beauty in the clouds, that could not see through the storm. It seems impossible — how can he show them the wondrous Jupiter that he and Towser perceive?
Work that could have been done on Earth in a week or two.