DOWN TO THE WORLDS OF MEN
BY ALEXEI PANSHIN
The ancient rule was sink or swim—swim
in the miasma of a planet without
spaceflight, or sink to utter destruction!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, July 1963.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I
The horses and packs were loaded before we went aboard the scoutship.The scout bay is no more than a great oversized airlock with a dozensmall ships squatting over their tubes, but it was the last of the Shipthat I might ever see, so I took a long final look from the top of theramp.
There were sixteen of us girls and thirteen boys. We took our placesin the seats in the center of the scout. Riggy Allen made a joke thatnobody bothered to laugh at, and then we were all silent. I was feelinglost and just beginning to enjoy it when Jimmy Dentremont came over tome. He's red-headed and has a face that makes him look about ten. Anintelligent runt like me.
He said what I expected. "Mia, do you want to go partners if we can gettogether when we get down?"
I guess he thought that because we were always matched on study I likedhim. Well, I did when I wasn't mad at him, but now I had that crackhe'd made about being a snob in mind, so I said, "Not likely. I want tocome back alive." It wasn't fair, but it was a good crack and he wentback to his place without saying anything.
My name is Mia Havero. I'm fourteen, of course, or I wouldn't betelling this. I'm short, dark and scrawny, though I don't expect thatscrawniness to last much longer. Mother is very good looking. In themeantime, I've got brains as a consolation.
After we were all settled, George Fuhonin, the pilot, raised the ramps.We sat there for five minutes while they bled air out of our tube andthen we just ... dropped. My stomach turned flips. We didn't have toleave that way, but George thinks it's fun to be a hot pilot.
Thinking it over, I was almost sorry I'd been stinking to Jimmy D. He'sthe only competition I have my own age. The trouble is, you don't gopartners with the competition, do you? Besides, there was still thatcrack about being a snob.
The planet chosen for our Trial was called Tintera. The last contactthe Ship had had with it—and we were the ones who dropped them—wasalmost 150 years ago. No contact since. That had made the Councildebate a little before they dropped us there, but they decided it wasall right in the end. It didn't make any practical difference to uskids because they never tell you anything about the place they're goingto drop you. All I knew was the name. I wouldn't have known that muchif Daddy weren't Chairman of the Council.
I felt like crawling in a corner of the ship and crying, but nobodyelse was breaking down, so I didn't. I did feel miserable. I cried whenI said good-by to Mother and Daddy—a real emotional scene—but thatwasn't in public.
It wasn't the chance of not coming back that bothered me really,because I never believed that I wouldn't. The thought that made meunhappy was that I would have to be on a planet for a whole month.Planets make me feel wretched.
The gravity is always wrong, for one thing. Either your arches andcalves ache or every time you step you think you're going to trip ona piece of fluff and break your neck. There are vegetables everywhereand little grubby things just looking for you to crawl on. If youcan think of anything creepier tha