Excerpt
A gentle fancy for the Christmas Season—an oft-told tale with a wistful twistful of Something that left the Earth with a wing and a prayer.
Earth was so far away that it wasn't visible. Even the sun was only a twinkle. But this vast distance did not mean that isolation could endure forever. Instruments within the ship intercepted radio broadcasts and, within the hour, early TV signals. Machines compiled dictionaries and grammars and began translating the major languages. The history of the planet was tabulated as facts became available.
The course of the ship changed slightly; it was not much out of the way to swing nearer Earth. For days the two within the ship listened and watched with little comment. They had to decide soon.
"We've got to make or break," said the first alien.
"You know what I'm in favor of," said the second.
"I can guess," said Ethaniel, who had spoken first. "The place is a complete mess. They've never done anything except fight each other—and invent better weapons."
"It's not what they've done," said Bal, the second alien. "It's what they're going to do, with that big bomb."
"The more reason for stopping," said Ethaniel. "The big bomb can destroy them. Without our help they may do just that."
"I may remind you that in two months twenty-nine days we're due in Willafours," said Bal. "Without looking at the charts I can tell you we still have more than a hundred light-years to go."
"A week," said Ethaniel. "We can spare a week and still get there on time."
"A week?" said Bal. "To settle their problems? They've had two world wars in one generation and that the third and final one is coming up you can't help feeling in everything they do."
"It won't take much," said Ethaniel. "The wrong diplomatic move, or a trigger-happy soldier could set it off. And it wouldn't have to be deliberate. A meteor shower could pass over and their clumsy instruments could interpret it as an all-out enemy attack."
"Too bad," said Bal. "We'll just have to forget there ever was such a planet as Earth."
"Could you? Forget so many people?"
"I'm doing it," said Bal. "Just give them a little time and they won't be here to remind me that I have a conscience."
"My memory isn't convenient," said Ethaniel. "I ask you to look at them."
Bal rustled, flicking the screen intently. "Very much like ourselves," he said at last. "A bit shorter perhaps, and most certainly incomplete. Except for the one thing they lack, and that's quite odd, they seem exactly like us. Is that what you wanted me to say?"
"It is. The fact that they are an incomplete version of ourselves touches me. They actually seem defenseless, though I suppose they're not."
"Tough," said Bal. "Nothing we can do about it."
"There is. We can give them a week."
"In a week we can't negate their entire history. We can't begin to undo the effect of the big bomb."
"You can't tell," said Ethaniel. "We can look things over."
"And then what? How much authority do we have?"
"Very little," conceded Ethaniel. "Two minor officials on the way to Willafours—and we run directly into a problem no one knew existed."
"And when we get to Willafours we'll be busy....