The Many-Coloured Land - 1 Read Free Page A

scientist, have been even partially successful where so many others have failed is surely one more confirmation of the unique abilities of the Children of Earth."
    The sour-grape flavor of this speech was not lost on the Poltroyan. His ruby eyes twinkled as he said, "The Amalgam of Pohroy, unlike certain other coadunate races, never doubted that the Intervention was full justified." "For you and your Milieu, perhaps," said Guderian in a low. voice. His dark eyes, pain-tinged behind rimless eyeglasses, showed a momentary bitterness. "But what of us? We have had to give up so much, our diverse languages, many of our social philosophies and religious dogmata, our so-called nonproductive lifestyles . . . our very human sovereignty, laughable though its loss must seem to the ancient intellects of the Galactic Milieu."
    The man from Sbqipni exclaimed, "How can you doubt the wisdom of it, Professor? We humans gave up a few cultural fripperies and gained energy sufficiency and unlimited lebensraum and membership in a galactic civilization! Now that we don't have to waste time and lives in mere survival, there'll be no holding humanity back! Our race is just beginning to fulfill its genetic potential, which may be greater than that of any other people!"
    The Londoner winced.
    The Prime Contemplates said suavely, "Ah, the proverbial human breeding capacity! How it does keep the gene pool roiled. One is reminded of the well-known reproductive superiority of the adolescent organism as compared to that of the mature individual whose plasm, while less prodigally broadcast, may nonetheless be more prudently in the pursuit of genetic optima."
    "Did you say mature?" sneered the Skipetar. "Or atrophied?"
    "Colleagues! Colleagues!" exclaimed the diplomatic little Poltroyan. "We will weary Professor Guderian."
    "No. it's all right," the old man said; bat he looked gray and ill.
    The Gi hastened to change the subject "Surely this effect you have demonstrated would be a splendid tool for pako-biology."
    "I fear," Guderian replied, "that there is limited galactic interest in the extinct life-forms of Earth's Rhone-Saone Trough."
    "Then you haven't been able to, er, tune the device for retrieval in other areas?" asked the Londoner.
    "Alas, no, my dear Sanders. Nor have other workers been able to reproduce my experiment in other localities on Earth or on other worlds." Guderian tapped one of the plaque-books. "As I have pointed out, there is a problem in computing the subtleties of the geomagnetic input. This region of southern Europe has one of the more complex geomorphotogles of the planet. Here in the Moots des Lyonnais and the Forez we have a foreland of the utmost antiquity cheek-by-jowl with recent volcanic intrusions. In nearby regions of the Massif Central we see even more clearly the workings of intracrustal metamorphism, the anatexis engendered above one or more ascending asthenospheric diapirs. To the east lie the Alps with their stupendously folded nappes. South of here is the Mediterranean Basin with active subduction zones, which was, incidentally, in an extremely peculiar condition during the Lower Pliocene Epoch."
    "So you're in a dead end, eh?" remarked the Skipetar. 'Too bad Earth's Pliocene period wasn't all that interesting. Just a few million years marking time between the Miocene and the Ice Age. The shank of the Cenozoic, so to speak."
    Guderian produced a small whiskbroom and dustpan and began to tidy up the gazebo. "It was a golden time, just before the dawn of rational humankind. A time of benevolent climate and flourishing plant and animal life. A vintage time, unspoiled and tranquil. An autumn before the terrible winter of the Pleistocene glaciation. Rousseau would have loved the Pliocene Epoch. Uninteresting? There are even today soul-weary people in this Galactic Milieu who would not share your evaluation."
    The scientists exchanged glances.
    "If only it weren't a one-way trip," said the man from Londinium.
    Guderian was