The Worshippers | Page 6

Damon Francis Knight
They did not make war.
They were egg-layers, and they controlled their population simply by means of hatching only as many eggs as were needed to replace their natural losses.
* * * * *
Just when it first struck Weaver that he was their appointed ruler it would be hard to say. It began, perhaps, that afternoon in the aircar; or a few days later when he made his first timid request--for a house of his own. The request was eagerly granted, and he was asked how he would like the house constructed. Half timidly, he drew sketches of his own suburban home in Schenectady; and they built it, swarms of them working together, down to the hardwood floors and the pneumatic furniture and the picture mouldings and the lampshades.
Or perhaps the idea crystallized when he asked to see some of their native dances, and within an hour the dancers assembled on his lawn--five hundred of them--and performed until sundown.
At, any rate, nothing could have been more clearly correct once he had grasped the idea. He was a Man, alone in a world of outlandish creatures. It was natural that he should lead; indeed, it was his duty. They were poor things, but they were malleable in his hands. It was a great adventure. Who knew how far he might not bring them?
Weaver embarked on a tour of the planet, taking with him two of the bug things as guides and a third as pilot and personal servant. Their names in their own tongue he had not bothered to ask; he had christened them Mark, Luke and John. All three now wrote and read English with fair proficiency; thus Weaver was well served.
The trip was entirely enjoyable. He was met everywhere by the same throngs, the same delight and enthusiasm as before; and between villages--there seemed to be nothing on the planet that could be called a city--the rolling green countryside, dotted with bosquets of yellow- and orange-flowered trees, was most soothing to the eye. Weaver noted the varieties of strangely shaped and colored plants, and the swarms of bright flying things, and began an abortive collection. He had to give it up, for the present: there were too many things to study. He looked forward to a few books to be compiled later, when he had time, for the guidance of Earthmen at some future date: The Flora of Terranova, The Fauna of Terranova....
All that was for the distant future. Now he was chiefly concerned with the Terranovans themselves--how they lived, what they thought, what sort of primitive religion they had, and so on. He asked endless questions of his guides, and through them, of the villagers they met; and the more he learned, the more agitated he became.
* * * * *
"But this is monstrous," he wrote indignantly to Mark and Luke. They had just visited a house inhabited by seventeen males and twelve females--Weaver was now beginning to be able to distinguish the sexes--and he had inquired what their relations were. Mark had informed him calmly that they were husbands and wives; and when Weaver pointed out that the balance was uneven, had written, "No, not one to one. All to all. All husband and wife of each other."
Mark held Weaver's indignant message up to his eyes with one many-jointed claw, while his other three forelimbs gestured uncertainly. Finally he seized the note-pad and wrote, "Do not understand monstrous, please forgive. They do for more change, so not to make each other have tiredness."
Weaver frowned and wrote, "Does not your religion forbid this?"
Mark consulted in his own piping tongue with the other two. Finally he surrendered the note-pad to Luke, who wrote: "Do not understand religion to forbid, please excuse. With us many religion, some say spirits in flower, some say in wind and sun, some say in ground. Not say to do this, not to do that. With us all people the same, no one tell other what to do."
Weaver added another mental note to his already lengthy list: "Build churches."
He wrote: "Tell them this must stop."
Mark turned without hesitation to the silently attentive group, and translated. He turned back to Weaver and wrote, "They ask please, what to do now instead of the way they do?"
Weaver told him, "They must mate only one to one, and for life."
To his surprise, the translation of this was greeted by unmistakable twitterings of gladness. The members of the adulterous group turned to each other with excited gestures, and Weaver saw a pairing-off process begin, with much discussion.
He asked Mark about it later, as they were leaving the village. "How is it that they did this thing before--for more variety, as you say--and yet seem so glad to stop?"
Mark's answer was: "They very glad to do whatever thing you say. You
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