Man of Many Minds - Cover

Man of Many Minds

Public Domain

Chapter 17

Superintendent Philander stood watching the natives feeding, and he could not help seeing how they appeared to appreciate the new food. After some time he said admiringly, “It looks like you’ve hit on something, George. If it continues to work out, we’ll feed all of ‘em this stuff, and I’ll requisition plenty more next time the freighter comes in.”

They left the compound, carefully locking both gates behind them, and walked back to the office. Once there, Hanlon said, “I see you have a chess set, sir. Do you play? I love the game.”

“You do?” Philander’s eyes gleamed. “It’s been a long time since there was anyone here who did.”

“Then I hope you’ll let me come in occasionally for a game. I get lonesome here. The other guards aren’t worth talking to, and I’m not educated enough in science or technology to get in on the arguments of the engineers and other technies.”

“Sure, sure, come in any time. I’ll be mighty glad to have you, for I love chess. I get lonesome, too, and I have to stay a whole year at a time. Feel free to come in any evening.”

Back in his room Hanlon left tremendously satisfied with the evening’s work. He had done something for the natives that would help make their intolerable situation more bearable until the time came when they could be freed of their slavery ... and he had made a new friend who could prove very useful.

He was very anxious for the next work-period to come, so he could talk to Geck via the voice-transformer. For he was not yet adept enough at telepathy to be sure he had got all the information needed about the use of nitrates in the Guddu’s diet.

But the next day when he went to herd his crew from their compound and down into the mine, he could not help noticing at first glance how much sprightlier they looked than the other crews. The minute they had reached the stope he unearthed the machine from its hiding place and got into conversation with the friendly Guddu.

“The food stuff?” he asked eagerly. “Is it something you can use?”

“Oh, yes. An-yon,” Geck almost sputtered in his eagerness, and words tumbled out so swiftly Hanlon could hardly translate them. “It are wonderful! Can you fix so all we can have?”

“Yes, they’ll all be fed rations of it from now on, although perhaps not much until the ship can bring more from another planet. I don’t know how much we have on hand. But the Boss-man liked my idea, and is going to see to it that there is always some on hand for all the natives. He’ll probably spread the word to the other mines and factories, too.”

“Almost us ingest too many last dark,” Geck gave what Hanlon knew was a shamefaced laugh. “It such very good eat us become...” he hesitated.

“Drunk, you mean?” Hanlon laughed. “I can see it might do that to you. You’ll have to warn the others about that.”

They chatted away for some minutes, about how much the Guddus appreciated Hanlon’s thoughtfulness.

“Say, I just wondered,” Hanlon interrupted Geck’s thanks. “Do you have any idea where your planet is located in space? I mean, do you know the suns closest to yours, anything about their distances or magnitudes?”

Geck’s thoughts and expression were a blank, and it took most of the work-period even to make him understand what Hanlon was trying to ask. When he did finally manage to grasp the thought-concept, his answer was a decided negative.

“No, An-yon, us know nothing about other sun other planet. Before humans come suppose we only intelligent life anywhere. Things you call suns us thought little fires light sky at night. Wonder many night who build. Wonder what is burn where is nothing. Wonder why only one big fire come day. Wonder why big fire die come night.”

Hanlon’s disappointment about that was tempered somewhat when the checker came running into his room where he was resting before dinner, to tell him that his crew had suddenly got out almost half a ton more ore that day than any previous record he had made.


A new cook had come to the mine recently. He had a fox terrier, and Hanlon got into the habit of playing with the dog, to keep up his ability to handle animal minds, and to learn more of the technique. He was always careful to say out loud the command for whatever trick he wanted the animal to perform, but actually he was controlling its brain and nerves and muscles.

One evening he was working thus with the dog when Gorton, his head-wound still bandaged, came into the messhall. Seeing Hanlon with the terrier, his heavy lip curled.

“So th’ fair-haired boy’s also a animal trainer, eh?”

“That he is,” Cookie said from the doorway leading into the kitchen. “And good, too! He’s got Brutus doing things I never knew a dog could do.”

Gorton sneered again. “Teachin’ tricks t’ a dog is kid stuff.”

“Can you do it?” the cook asked sarcastically.

“Who’d bother t’ try?”

Hanlon looked up, blandly. “You couldn’t expect that of Mr. Gorton, Cookie. To teach an animal to do tricks you have to know more than it does.”

“Why, you...” Gorton started forward, his face aflame, while the other men roared with laughter at the rough wit.

But the big guard did not reach Hanlon. One of the newer guards, a giant Swede named Jenssen, stopped him. “Aw, lay off the kid, Gort. He’s okay. That stunt of feeding the Greenies fertilizer makes ‘em turn out lots more work, and we’ll get us bigger bonuses ‘cause of it.”

But Gorton was not the type to know when to quit. Nor was he high enough in the ethical scale to know appreciation for the fact that it was the very man he had been reviling who was the first to go to his aid when he was hurt.

Hanlon had come to realize that the big man was determined to provoke him to another fight. He knew that tempers were edgy and explosive in this enervating heat, and usually tried to bear Gorton’s insults and petty meannesses in silence. He wouldn’t demean himself by descending to the big guard’s low level ... although occasionally, when the heat was too much even for him, as tonight, he couldn’t resist making some answer.

Gorton, he had long since decided, was one of those men who, having nothing of worth to offer the world, did their utmost to tear down and humiliate anyone who had. And his smallness of soul and intellect were shown by the sort of tricks he was continually pulling, thinking them smart.

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