Care to sire a brand new race? Then
get aboard the Terra IV, only spaceship
to escape demolished Earth, and enter
the new-born Venusian sweepstakes.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1951.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The first Venusian ship to reach Earth found a single isolated tribeof human beings roving the bushlands of a large island in the southernhemisphere. The Earthmen were without exception dark of skin and eye,and their hair, which was jet-black, was as kinky as koola wool. Allwere backward to the point of savagery, fleeing in superstitious terrorbefore every attempt at communication.
Val Conna and his crew—nine tall young men, fair-skinned and lordlyand alike enough to have been brothers—made an exhaustive search thatcarefully bypassed ruined cities still radioactive past the safetypoint, and after ten days abandoned their quest in disappointment.
"I find no resemblance between this remnant of Earth's people andourselves," announced Mach Bren, expedition anthropologist, "excepta bipedal structure which only bears out our theory of like speciesdeveloping on like worlds, and this similarity is sharply negated byimpossible divergence in racial characteristics. Neither people couldhave changed so greatly during the four thousand years we know ourculture has existed on Venus, and therefore it is obvious that we didnot stem from Earthmen nor they from us."
There was no argument.
"Then the puzzle of our origin is still unsolved," said Val Conna,and gave the order to blast-off. So they left Earth for home, alreadyplanning further expeditions to the outer planets in search of theworld of their birth....
Somehow Hanlon had wormed his way into their quarters and was waitingwhen Geddes and Lowe and Hovic, crew of the Terra IV, returned tobase from their final interview with the press. Hanlon had been drunkfor days, and was in pitiable condition. His hand shook violently andthe bloodshot shine of his eyes was like a reflection to the fiery redof his unkempt hair.
"I had to say good-bye before the blast-off," he said, with a sorryattempt at his old assurance. "After all, I was one of you until acouple of months ago, and I ... well, I wanted to wish you luck. I wishI were going to Venus with you."
They considered him without particular emotion, three dark, compactmen in their late twenties, calm with the nerveless poise of longindoctrination and utterly sure of themselves. Hovic, bluntest of thethree, ignored Hanlon and went directly to the bathroom to brush histeeth.
"You lost your chance when you flunked training, Hanlon," Geddes said."Just now you're a definite irritant, and we can't afford being upsetjust before the flight. You'll have to go."
Hanlon avoided his eyes, looking thoroughly hangdog and disreputable.He needed a shave badly and his careless clothing had been slept inmore than once.
"I could have borne the surgical operations," he said. "A man'sappendix and tonsils and teeth can be dangerous in space or onanother planet where he can't get medical attention—but their damnedpsycho-conditioning was too much. How could I know what I'd really belike when those cold-blooded Foundation specialists got through withme?"
"It takes a specially adapted kind of man to beat space," Geddespointed out patiently. "We can't risk neurosis out there, any more thanwe can risk appendicitis or abscessed teeth. The Foundation learneda lot from those first three failures, Hanlon. This time it's notrepeating i