Illustrated by WESTON
The Tarchiki were the universe's
worst pupils—and as a teacher,
Duncan was a first-rate carpenter!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity Science Fiction, August 1956.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Duncan? No, he wasn't the Agent just before you. He was here in2180—oh, a good thirty years back, Earth-time. The natives sayhundreds of years, but they're a short-lived lot. The way they cuteach other's throats, it's a wonder any of them live out the life spanthey've got, anyway.
I came out when Duncan did—knew him pretty well, as well as anybodycould. A perfect fool. Knowing him was a real education. Do anythingthe other way from the way Duncan did it, and you'd be all right.
You wouldn't think it to look at him. Well set-up man, around thirtywhen he got here, intelligent face, good talker, had a degree—buta fool. Seemed as if he couldn't do anything right. He told me oncethat he'd been married, and that it had broken up. He more or lessimplied that his wife had gotten sick of little things—broken dishes,tactless remarks, carelessness. You wouldn't think that would beenough to break up a marriage, but you've got no idea how that sort ofthing can add up.
I was clerking for him then. I swear I did all the work. I had to. Hecouldn't add, couldn't file a record, and couldn't have found one ifhe'd managed somehow to put it away. I took Agent's inventories, I didmost of the trading with the native chiefs, I did everything. Duncanjust bumbled around the post, or listened to records, or wrote thosesilly, hopeless, letters to his ex-wife. He was trying to get her tocome back to him. How do I know? Well, who do you think worked thesubspace transmitter, as well as doing everything else?
The native thing really annoyed me, though, because it was dangerous.You know the Tarchiki. They look human enough, except for minordetails. When it comes to a Tarchik female I'll overlook the green skinand the pointed ears every time. But they aren't entirely like us. Theyhave a liking for war and torture that's really sickening.
Our ancestors? Oh, now, really ... you're talking just like Duncan.That was always his apology for them. He said our own ancestors werepretty bad, too. Certainly they were, but I can't see any ancestor ofmine acting the way a Tarchik does with a captured enemy. And theyhaven't the slightest sense of sportsmanship, either. They'd ratherjump you from ambush than fight in the open, and they won't fight atall if the enemy's stronger than they are. That's why they've nevermade any serious attempt to do in all the Earthmen on their world.That, and greed; they get very good deals from us, and they know it.
Anyway, I'm sure none of my ancestors ever acted like that.
But Duncan was always ready to forgive a Tarchik anything. That usedto upset the hell out of them, too, because they expect to be punishedwhen they're caught at anything. They don't understand our reluctanceto kill, but they respect a Patrolman's shock gun, and when they getcaught stealing or taking each other's tails they know they're goingto get a few months in quod, or what they hate much worse, a publicflogging. If they didn't get punished, they'd assume it was weakness onour part. Just like kids.
Anyway, there was Duncan, holding long confabs with the Tarchiki,trying to teach them some sort of elementary ethics. Naturally, itdidn't take at all. They listened, because they love long speeches, butthey never acted on what he said.
He used to tell them that if they stopped chopping each