The Arch-administrator understood. He said, stiffly, “Would you object to explaining your views unofficially—to me?”
“I would be glad to,” said Devi-en at once. “The inhabitants of this planet are, of course, large-primate in nature. And they are competitive.”
The other blew out his breath in a kind of relief and passed his tongue quickly over his nose. ” I had the queer notion,” he muttered, “that they might not be competitive and that that might—But go on, go on.”
“They are competitive,” Devi-en assured him. “Much more so than one would expect on the average.”
“Then why doesn’t everything else follow?”
“Up to a point it does, your Height. After the usual long incubation period, they began to mechanize; and after that, the usual large-primate killings became truly destructive warfare. At the conclusion of the most recent large-scale war, nuclear weapons were developed and the war ended at once.”
The Arch-administrator nodded. “And then?”
Devi-en said, “What should have happened was that a nuclear war ought to have begun shortly afterward and in the course of the war, nuclear weapons would have developed quickly in destructiveness, have been used nevertheless in typical large-primate fashion, and have quickly reduced the population to starving remnants in a ruined world.”
“Of course, but that didn’t happen. Why not?”
Devi-en said, “There is one point. I believe these people, once mechanization started, developed at an unusually high rate.”
“And if so?” said the other. “Does that matter? They reached nuclear weapons the more quickly.”
“True. But after the most recent general war, they continued to develop nuclear weapons at an unusual rate. That’s the trouble. The deadly potential had increased before the nuclear war had a chance to start and now it has reached a point where even large-primate intelligences dare not risk a war.”
The Arch-administrator opened his small black eyes wide. “But that is impossible. I don’t care how technically talented these creatures are. Military science advances rapidly only during a war.”
“Perhaps that is not true in the case of these particular creatures. But even if it were, it seems they are having a war; not a real war, but a war.”
“Not a real war, but a war,” repeated the Arch-administrator blankly. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure.” Devi-en wiggled his nose in exasperation. “This is where my attempts to draw logic out of the scattered material we have picked up is least satisfactory. This planet has something called a Cold War. Whatever it is, it drives them furiously onward in research and yet it does not involve complete nuclear destruction.”
The Arch-administrator said, “Impossible!”
Devi-en said, “There is the planet. Here we are. We have been waiting fifteen years.”
The Arch-administrator’s long arms came up and crossed over his head and down again to the opposite shoulders. “Then there is only one thing to do. The Council has considered the possibilty that the planet may have achieved a stalemate, a kind of uneasy peace that balances just short of a nuclear war. Something of the sort you describe, though no one suggested the actual reasons you advance. But it’s something we can’t allow.”
“No, your Height?”
“No,” he seemed almost in pain. “The longer the stalemate continues, the greater the possibility that large-primate individuals may discover the methods of interstellar travel. They will leak out into the Galaxy, in full competitive strength. You see?”
“Then?”
The Arch-administrator hunched his head deeper into his arms, as though not wishing to hear what he himself must say. His voice was a little muffled. “If they are balanced precariously, we must push them a little, Captain. We must push them.”
Devi-en’s stomach churned and he suddenly tasted his dinner once more in the back of his throat. “Push them, your Height?” He didn’t want to understand.
But the Arch-administrator put it bluntly, “We must help them start their nuclear war.” He looked as miserably sick as Devi-en felt. He whispered, “We must!”
Devi-en could scarcely speak. He said, in a whisper, “But how could such a thing be done, your Height?”
“I don’t know how.—And do not look at me so. It is not my decision. It is the decision of the Council. Surely you understand what would happen to the Galaxy if a large-primate intelligence were to enter space in full strength without having been tamed by nuclear war.”
Devi-en shuddered at the thought. All that competitiveness loosed on the Galaxy. He persisted though. “But how does one start a nuclear war? How is it done?”
“I don’t know, I tell you. But there must be some way; perhaps a—a message we might send or a—a crucial rainstorm we might start by cloud-seeding. We could manage a great deal with their weather conditions—”
“How would that start a nuclear war?” said Devi-en, unimpressed.
“Maybe it wouldn’t. I mention such a thing only as a possible example. But large-primates would know. After all, they are the ones who do start nuclear wars in actual fact. It is in their brain-pattern to know. That is the decision the Council came to.”
Devi-en felt the soft noise his tail made as it thumped slowly against the chair. He tried to stop it and failed. “What decision, your Height?”
“To trap a large-primate from the planet’s surface. To kidnap one.”
“A wild one?”
“It’s the only kind that exists at the moment on the planet. Of course, a wild one.”
“And what do you expect him to tell us?”
“That doesn’t matter, Captain. As long as he says enough about anything, mentalic analysis will give us the answer.”
Devi-en withdrew his head as far as he could into the space between his shoulder blades. The skin just under his armpits quivered with repulsion. A wild large-primate being! He tried to picture one, untouched by the stunning aftermath of nuclear war, unaltered by the civilizing influence of Human eugenic breeding.
The Arch-administrator made no attempt to hide the fact that he shared the repulsion, but he said, “You will have to lead the trapping expedition, Captain. It is for the good of the Galaxy.”
Devi-en had seen the planet a number of times before but each time a ship swung about the Moon and placed the world in his line of sight a wave of unbearable homesickness swept him.
It was a beautiful planet, so like Hurria itself in dimensions and characteristics but wilder and grander. The sight of it, after the desolation of the Moon, was like a blow.