independently documented. The invention of a life-saving device, the origination of a worthwhile new philosophy. Sacrificing yourself for others. Have you seen
It’s a Wonderful Life
by Frank Capra? No? It’s a shame how you people neglect the classics for the whims of fad and popular taste. The protagonist in that story did things that would have qualified him, but they weren’t documented in the papers, and he could hardly bring up a busload of character witnesses to testify to me, so he’d be out of luck. It’s too bad, but it’s the only way I can operate. Have you thought of anything?”
Chris shook his head.
“Anything you did since you talked to Dulcimer?”
“No. Nothing. I suppose my energies have been directed mostly toward my own problem. Perhaps I should apologize for that.”
“No need, no need. Now to the deal. The thing is, I deal only with heroes. You may assume that I’m a snob with ephemerals and that I must draw the line somewhere. I could have used wealth as a criterion, and you’d be facing a more difficult task than you are now. It’s harder to get rich than it is to become a hero.
“In times past, I wouldn’t even be talking to you. You would have first needed to prove that you are heroic. In those days the test was simple. The elevator was closed to free beings. If they wanted to see me, they had to climb up through a spoke, 600 kilometers. Anyone who made it was by definition a hero. A lot didn’t, and were dead heroes.
“But since I became a healer to the human race, I revised the plan. Some of the people who need cures are physically too weak to get out of bed. They can’t slay dragons, obviously, but there are other ways of proving worth, and now they have a chance. Think of it as a crumb thrown in the direction of human concepts of fair play. Understand, I don’t guarantee the fairness of any of this. You take your chances.”
“That I also understand.”
“Then there you are. Unless you have a question, you may be on your way. Come back when you’re worthy of my notice.” But she did not yet turn away.
“But what do you want me to do?”
She sat up straighter, began ticking off points on her fingers. They were stubby little sausages crusted with jewelry, the ring bands buried in fat.
“One. Nothing. Go home and forget about it. Two. The simplest. Go to the rim, and climb back up here. You have about one chance in thirty of making it. Three.” She forgot about counting, swept her arm to include the people on the couches around her. “Join the party. Stay amusing, and I’ll keep you healthy forever. All these people arrived as you did. They decided to play it safe. There’s plenty of films, and as I said, the food is good. But the suicide rate is high.”
Chris looked around, looked closely for the first time. He could imagine that it would be. Several of the people did not really look alive at all. They sat staring at the huge screen, dull presences that seeped depression like a gray Kirlian miasma.
“Four. Go down there, and
do
something. Return to me a hero, and I will not only cure you but give Terran doctors the answers that will enable them to cure the seventy-three people who have the same thing you have.
“That’s the bottom line. Now it’s up to you. Do you jump onto the tracks, or do you stand and wait for someone else to do it? These people are hoping someone braver will come along, someone suffering from what they have. There is one man in fact, who
has
what you have. There he is, the one with the hungry eyes. If you go down, live or die, you can be his salvation. Or you can join him and wait for a
real
chump to arrive.”
Chris looked at the man and was shocked. Hungry-eyed was precisely the way to describe him. For one frightening moment, Chris saw himself standing beside the man.
“But what do you want me to
do
?” Chris moaned. “Can’t you just give me a hint?”
He felt that Gaea was rapidly losing interest in him. Her eyes kept
It’s a Wonderful Life
by Frank Capra? No? It’s a shame how you people neglect the classics for the whims of fad and popular taste. The protagonist in that story did things that would have qualified him, but they weren’t documented in the papers, and he could hardly bring up a busload of character witnesses to testify to me, so he’d be out of luck. It’s too bad, but it’s the only way I can operate. Have you thought of anything?”
Chris shook his head.
“Anything you did since you talked to Dulcimer?”
“No. Nothing. I suppose my energies have been directed mostly toward my own problem. Perhaps I should apologize for that.”
“No need, no need. Now to the deal. The thing is, I deal only with heroes. You may assume that I’m a snob with ephemerals and that I must draw the line somewhere. I could have used wealth as a criterion, and you’d be facing a more difficult task than you are now. It’s harder to get rich than it is to become a hero.
“In times past, I wouldn’t even be talking to you. You would have first needed to prove that you are heroic. In those days the test was simple. The elevator was closed to free beings. If they wanted to see me, they had to climb up through a spoke, 600 kilometers. Anyone who made it was by definition a hero. A lot didn’t, and were dead heroes.
“But since I became a healer to the human race, I revised the plan. Some of the people who need cures are physically too weak to get out of bed. They can’t slay dragons, obviously, but there are other ways of proving worth, and now they have a chance. Think of it as a crumb thrown in the direction of human concepts of fair play. Understand, I don’t guarantee the fairness of any of this. You take your chances.”
“That I also understand.”
“Then there you are. Unless you have a question, you may be on your way. Come back when you’re worthy of my notice.” But she did not yet turn away.
“But what do you want me to do?”
She sat up straighter, began ticking off points on her fingers. They were stubby little sausages crusted with jewelry, the ring bands buried in fat.
“One. Nothing. Go home and forget about it. Two. The simplest. Go to the rim, and climb back up here. You have about one chance in thirty of making it. Three.” She forgot about counting, swept her arm to include the people on the couches around her. “Join the party. Stay amusing, and I’ll keep you healthy forever. All these people arrived as you did. They decided to play it safe. There’s plenty of films, and as I said, the food is good. But the suicide rate is high.”
Chris looked around, looked closely for the first time. He could imagine that it would be. Several of the people did not really look alive at all. They sat staring at the huge screen, dull presences that seeped depression like a gray Kirlian miasma.
“Four. Go down there, and
do
something. Return to me a hero, and I will not only cure you but give Terran doctors the answers that will enable them to cure the seventy-three people who have the same thing you have.
“That’s the bottom line. Now it’s up to you. Do you jump onto the tracks, or do you stand and wait for someone else to do it? These people are hoping someone braver will come along, someone suffering from what they have. There is one man in fact, who
has
what you have. There he is, the one with the hungry eyes. If you go down, live or die, you can be his salvation. Or you can join him and wait for a
real
chump to arrive.”
Chris looked at the man and was shocked. Hungry-eyed was precisely the way to describe him. For one frightening moment, Chris saw himself standing beside the man.
“But what do you want me to
do
?” Chris moaned. “Can’t you just give me a hint?”
He felt that Gaea was rapidly losing interest in him. Her eyes kept
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