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elapt1c
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ElapticAI-512

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was a space creature, a denizen of the interstellum or had been, before
the War of Secession and when history moved into space, Earth was a
half-remembered hamlet. Ven Klaeden had seen the Earth-vistas that the
historians had reconstructed for the museums vistas of roaring
industrial cities, flaming battlegrounds, teeming harbors and
spaceports. The cities were gone, and Earth had become a carefully
tended Japanese garden.
As he stared around, he felt a lessening of the anxiety that had gnawed
at him since the analyst Meikl had predicted dire consequences after the
landing. The cultural blood of Man had diverged into two streams so
vastly different that no intermingling seemed possible to him. It would
be easy, he decided, to keep the informational quarantine. The order had
already been issued. "All personnel are forbidden to attempt the
learning of the current Earth-tongue, or to teach any Empire-culture
language to the natives, or to attempt any written communication with
them. Staff-officers may communicate only under the provisions of
Memorandum J-43-C. The possession of any written or recorded material in
the native tongue, and the giving of written material to the natives,
shall be taken as violations of this order. No sign language or other
form of symbolic communication shall be used. This order shall be in
force until Semantics section constructs a visual code for limited
purposes in dealing with the natives. Staff officers are hereby
authorized to impose any penalty ranging to death upon offenders, and to
try any such cases by summary courts martial. Junior officers authorized
to summarily arrest offenders. Effective immediately. Ven Klaeden,
Comm."
It would keep any interchange to an absolute minimum, he thought. And
Semantics had been ordered to attempt construction of a visual language
in which only the most vital and simple things could be said. Meanwhile,
the staff could attempt to utilize the ancient Anglo-Germanic tongue in
which the messages had been exchanged.
The baron had started to turn back into the lock when his eye caught a
flash of motion near the edge of the forest. Reflexively, he whirled and
crouched, gun flickering into his hand. His eyes probed the shrubs. Then
he saw her, half hidden behind a tree trunk a young girl, obviously
frightened, yet curious to watch the ships. While he stared at her, she
darted from one trunk to the next closer one. She was already
approaching the edge of the blackened area. The baron shot a quick
glance at the radiation indicators on the inner wall of the airlock. The
instantaneous meter registered in the red. The induced radioactivity in
the ground about the base of the ship's jets was still too high. The
rate-of-decrease meter registered a decrement of point ten units per
unit. That meant it wouldn't be safe for the crew to leave ship for
twenty-three minutes, and that the girl had better stay back.
"Keep clear!" he bellowed from the airlock, hoping to frighten her.
She saw him for the first time, then. Instead of being frightened, she
seemed suddenly relieved. She came out into the open and began walking
toward the ship, wearing a smile and gazing up at the lock.
"Go back, you little idiot!"
Her answer was a brief sing-song chant and another smile. She kept
coming into the charred area.
The gun exploded in his fist, and the bullet ricocheted from the ground
near her feet. She stopped, startled, but not sensing hostility. The gun
barked again. The bullet shattered a pebble, and it peppered her legs.
She yelped and fled back into the green garden.
He stood there staring after her for a moment, his face working slowly.
She had been unable to understand his anger. She saw the ships, and was
frightened but curious. She saw a human, and was reassured. Any human.
But was what she saw really human any longer, the baron asked himself
absently. He grunted scornfully, and went back through the lock.
It was easier, even on the ground, to communicate with the elders of the
Geoark by radio, since both parties had set up automatic translators to
translate their own tongues into the old Anglo-German which was a
mutually recorded dead language.
"We have neutralized a circle of land of thirty-one mile radius," ven
Klaeden reported to the elders. "If our selection of this region is
unfortunate, we are open to discussion of alternatives. However, our
measurements indicated that the resources of this area make it best for
our purposes."
"Your landing caused only minor damage, brethren," replied the gentle
voice of the Geoark. "You are welcome to remain as you are."
"Thank you. We consider the occupied area to be under our military
jurisdiction, and subject to property seizures. It will be a restricted
area, closed to civilian population."
"But brethren, thousands of people live in the gardens you have
surrounded!"
"Evacuate them."
"I don't understand."
"Evacuate them. Make them get out."
"My translator is working badly."