This World Is Taboo | Page 5

grain!"
"And Dara?"
The doctor shrugged. He stood up.
"Our hatred of Dara," he said, again ironically, "has produced one thing.
Roughly halfway between here and Dara there's a two-planet solar
system, Orede. There's a usable planet there. It was proposed to build
an outpost of Weald there, against blueskins. Cattle were landed to run
wild and multiply and make a reason for colonists to settle there.
"They did, but nobody wants to move near to blueskins! So Orede
stayed uninhabited until a hunting party, shooting wild cattle, found an

outcropping of heavy-metal ore. So now there's a mine there. And that's
all. A few hundred men work the mine at fabulous wages. You may be
asked to check on their health. But not Dara's!"
"I see," said Calhoun, frowning.
The doctor moved toward the Med Ship's exit port.
"I answered your questions," he said grimly. "But if I talked to anyone
else as I've done to you, I'd be lucky only to be driven into exile!"
"I shan't give you away," said Calhoun. He did not smile.
* * * * *
When the doctor had gone, Calhoun said deliberately, "Murgatroyd,
you should be grateful that you're a tormal and not a man. There's
nothing about being a tormal to make you ashamed!"
Then he grimly changed his garments for the full-dress uniform of the
Med Service. There was to be a banquet at which he would sit next to
the planet's chief executive and hear innumerable speeches about the
splendor of Weald. Calhoun had his own, strictly Med Service opinion
of the planet's latest and most boasted-of achievement. It was a domed
city in the polar regions, where nobody ever had to go outdoors.
He was less than professionally enthusiastic about the moving streets,
and much less than approving of the dream broadcasts which supplied
hypnotic, sleep-inducing rhythms to anybody who chose to listen to
them. The price was that while asleep one would hear high praise of
commercial products, and might believe them when awake.
But it was not Calhoun's function to criticize when it could be avoided.
Med Service had been badly managed in Sector Twelve. So at the
banquet Calhoun made a brief and diplomatic address in which he
temperately praised what could be praised, and did not mention
anything else.

The chief executive followed him. As head of the government he paid
some tribute to the Med Service. But then he reminded his hearers
proudly of the high culture, splendid health, and remarkable prosperity
of the planet since his political party took office. This, he said, despite
the need to be perpetually on guard against the greatest and most
immediate danger to which any world in all the galaxy was exposed.
He referred to the blueskins, of course. He did not need to tell the
people of Weald what vigilance, what constant watchfulness was
necessary against that race of deprived and malevolent deviants from
the norm of humanity. But Weald, he said with emotion, held aloft the
torch of all that humanity held most dear, and defended not alone the
lives of its people against blueskin contagion, but their noble heritage
of ideals against blueskin pollution.
When he sat down, Calhoun said very politely, "It looks as if some day
it should be practical politics to urge the massacre of all blueskins.
Have you thought of that?"
The chief executive said comfortably, "The idea's been proposed. It's
good politics to urge it, but it would be foolish to carry it out. People
vote against blueskins. Wipe them out, and where'd you be?"
Calhoun ground his teeth--quietly.
There were more speeches. Then a messenger, white-faced, arrived
with a written note for the chief executive. He read it and passed it to
Calhoun. It was from the Ministry of Health. The spaceport reported
that a ship had just broken out from overdrive within the Wealdian
solar system. Its tape-transmitter had automatically signaled its arrival
from the mining planet Orede.
But, having sent off its automatic signal, the ship lay dead in space. It
did not drive toward Weald. It did not respond to signals. It drifted like
a derelict upon no course at all. It seemed ominous, and since it came
from Orede, the planet nearest to Dara of the blueskins, the health
ministry informed the planet's chief executive.

"It'll be blueskins," said that astute person firmly. "They're next door to
Orede. That's who's done this. It wouldn't surprise me if they'd seeded
Orede with their plague, and this ship came from there to give us
warning!"
"There's no evidence for anything of the sort," protested Calhoun. "A
ship simply came out of overdrive and didn't signal further. That's all!"
"We'll see," said the chief executive ominously. "We'll go to the
spaceport. There we'll get the news as it