nothing of the sort, and after that everything was fine. They brought me back here, fed me some broth, then you came in."
The old man brought over a wooden plate filled with a thick white soup. Ian took a hesitant sip, remembering all of his anthropological studies about primitive societies and eating rituals. The woman he admired earlier stepped out of the crowd and sat by his side.
"You from Earth, or another colony?"
This was a surprise. He expected some mumbo jumbo about gods from other worlds, or some similar nonsense.
"Earth. How did you guess that?"
"We're not stupid. You obviously aren't from here, at least not dressed like that."
"But how do you know about Earth? Did your elders teach you or—"
"Come now," she admonished, and lightly touched him on the arm, a move that Shelley could not fail to notice. "We do not understand everything, but some of the teach ing computers and their programs still work. When we're young we use them."
"If you can do that, then why do you ?... "
"You mean, live like primitives. Why not? Maybe you should ask yourself that."
"Yes, friend," another woman interjected, "why not live like primitives?"
"But how do you keep your system running?"
"Most of it was automated by our forefathers. All we have to do is routine maintenance, which is simple."
"Which frees us of the slavery of complexity, so that we can return to simplicity and light," another one said, and a chorus of voices murmured in the affirmative. Ian looked up and noticed that several hundred people had gathered around the roaring fire.
"They're just getting started," Shelley whispered.
"When we foreswear complexity, then all is balanced," a young man said from the back of the crowd. "Then and only then is true simplicity obtained."
This is crazy, Ian thought, what are we getting into, first-year philosophy?
"But the order of your world is built on complexity," Ian tried cautiously.
"But we have purified it back to the basics," another replied.
"However, you live in one of the most complex ma chines ever designed by man. Once you accept that first step toward complexity, there is no going back."
"But we have," several replied eagerly.
"As I said," Shelley whispered, "don't even try."
"But this is a machine you live in, not Eden," Ian replied, "and a machine requires technical skills. Just sup pose something really serious should go wrong."
"Nothing has, and nothing will," the redhead replied. "We have everything under control, as long as we follow the simplicity of collective meditation and consensus."
"Tell me more about the dissenters," Shelley asked, wishing to extract Ian from a potentially dangerous de bate. Ian, however, shot her a quick look of reproach. These people obviously got excited, a little too excited, about the dissenters. He still wasn't sure if he and Shelley were guests or prisoners, and until he knew more, he wanted to keep them smiling.
"They are the ones who fell," the gray-bearded elder replied.
"How so?" Shelley continued.
"Can't you yourself see their folly?"
Oh, no, Ian thought, step carefully.
"Look out! Incoming!"
A wild explosion of confusion erupted. The people scattered in every direction, screaming in terror. For a second Ian thought Shelley had triggered something and they were now going to be ripped apart. Then he noticed the colonists were all running away, and he wondered if he and Shelley had broken some taboo, which caused them to flee.
A roaring, whishing noise thundered overhead.
"What the hell!" Ian felt something brush past his shoulder and for an instant thought Shelley was pressing up against him.
"Ian?"
"Yeah." He turned to look at her. But his view was now blocked. A huge arrow, nearly a dozen feet in length and as thick around as his thigh, was buried in the ground between them. The pressure on his shoulder came from the still-quivering bolt.
The locals looked at him in open-mouthed amazement. He tried a wan smile of bravado, wishing for a quick
The old man brought over a wooden plate filled with a thick white soup. Ian took a hesitant sip, remembering all of his anthropological studies about primitive societies and eating rituals. The woman he admired earlier stepped out of the crowd and sat by his side.
"You from Earth, or another colony?"
This was a surprise. He expected some mumbo jumbo about gods from other worlds, or some similar nonsense.
"Earth. How did you guess that?"
"We're not stupid. You obviously aren't from here, at least not dressed like that."
"But how do you know about Earth? Did your elders teach you or—"
"Come now," she admonished, and lightly touched him on the arm, a move that Shelley could not fail to notice. "We do not understand everything, but some of the teach ing computers and their programs still work. When we're young we use them."
"If you can do that, then why do you ?... "
"You mean, live like primitives. Why not? Maybe you should ask yourself that."
"Yes, friend," another woman interjected, "why not live like primitives?"
"But how do you keep your system running?"
"Most of it was automated by our forefathers. All we have to do is routine maintenance, which is simple."
"Which frees us of the slavery of complexity, so that we can return to simplicity and light," another one said, and a chorus of voices murmured in the affirmative. Ian looked up and noticed that several hundred people had gathered around the roaring fire.
"They're just getting started," Shelley whispered.
"When we foreswear complexity, then all is balanced," a young man said from the back of the crowd. "Then and only then is true simplicity obtained."
This is crazy, Ian thought, what are we getting into, first-year philosophy?
"But the order of your world is built on complexity," Ian tried cautiously.
"But we have purified it back to the basics," another replied.
"However, you live in one of the most complex ma chines ever designed by man. Once you accept that first step toward complexity, there is no going back."
"But we have," several replied eagerly.
"As I said," Shelley whispered, "don't even try."
"But this is a machine you live in, not Eden," Ian replied, "and a machine requires technical skills. Just sup pose something really serious should go wrong."
"Nothing has, and nothing will," the redhead replied. "We have everything under control, as long as we follow the simplicity of collective meditation and consensus."
"Tell me more about the dissenters," Shelley asked, wishing to extract Ian from a potentially dangerous de bate. Ian, however, shot her a quick look of reproach. These people obviously got excited, a little too excited, about the dissenters. He still wasn't sure if he and Shelley were guests or prisoners, and until he knew more, he wanted to keep them smiling.
"They are the ones who fell," the gray-bearded elder replied.
"How so?" Shelley continued.
"Can't you yourself see their folly?"
Oh, no, Ian thought, step carefully.
"Look out! Incoming!"
A wild explosion of confusion erupted. The people scattered in every direction, screaming in terror. For a second Ian thought Shelley had triggered something and they were now going to be ripped apart. Then he noticed the colonists were all running away, and he wondered if he and Shelley had broken some taboo, which caused them to flee.
A roaring, whishing noise thundered overhead.
"What the hell!" Ian felt something brush past his shoulder and for an instant thought Shelley was pressing up against him.
"Ian?"
"Yeah." He turned to look at her. But his view was now blocked. A huge arrow, nearly a dozen feet in length and as thick around as his thigh, was buried in the ground between them. The pressure on his shoulder came from the still-quivering bolt.
The locals looked at him in open-mouthed amazement. He tried a wan smile of bravado, wishing for a quick
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