Regeneration - Katherine MacLean

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Regeneration by Charles Dye. It was bound to happen sooner
or later, not because man failed to understand his fellow man,
but because he failed to understand himself. There wasn't much
left afterwards, after the golden showers of deadly dust and
the blinding flashes that blotted out the light from the sun,

(00:21):
and all because man continued to confuse emotion with reason.
But somehow, as before, man survived, don't touch. Sinzor's command
shot through the chill morning air like an arrow. The
ragged little group of men stopped dead in their tracks
and looked questioningly at their leader. He was pointing down

(00:45):
to an object lying half buried in the soil at
his feet. Another death thing, maybe, Sinzor said, Another thing
our ancestors made with which to destroy themselves. He peered
around the semicircle of men until he sa spotted the
aged one with a leg missing. Morge, see that this
place is marked forbidden. The hunting party moved on, and

(01:08):
Morge stayed behind. He hobbled about collecting sticks and stones,
arranging them in the forbidden symbol way to form a
barrier around the thing. It was because of such a
thing that he'd lost a leg in his youth. He
both hated and feared the death things his ancestors had
so carelessly left lying about before they vanished. But that

(01:31):
wasn't right. Morge scratched his grizzly old head and thought hard.
According to Builder, wisest of their tribe, their ancestors hadn't
all vanished. Some of them had become the tribe Sinzor Builder,
and even old Morge very puzzling. It was all because

(01:51):
of the death things. Puffing, Morge completed the barrier, then
turned for a last look at the thing, gleaming dully
in the pale winter, so light. How strange it looked.
In no way did it resemble the usual death things,
most of which were long and round with little wings attached.
This one was different, like nothing he'd ever seen before.

(02:14):
It was box like, with strange arms sticking up, and
under the arms, half buried was a shelf or platform,
resembling vaguely the upper portion of two legs. The thing
terrified Morge for a moment, Then, in order to prove
his courage to himself, he stepped forward and spat on it.

(02:35):
Nothing happened. Sneering, he spat on it again and watched
its spittle slowly run down its side over a strange
marking like a thunderbolt thunderbolt. Suddenly, Morge fell, groveling to
his one good knee. It was Thor, god of thunder
and lightning and god of the tribe, and he had

(02:58):
spat on Thor for nearly an hour. He knelt there,
praying forgiveness for his sacrilege. Then, trembling, he tore off
a piece of his goat skin and wiped the spittle
off Thor's side, and carefully he began to uncover the
remainder of Thor. Finally, he lifted Thor out of the
hole and onto level ground. Kneeling once more, he took

(03:20):
a small drink scoop from his belt and placed it
before Thor. Then he pulled out his knife and folded
his single leg under him. Bending over, he cut a
gash in his wrist and let the blood flow into
the scoop until it was nearly full. Rising to his knee,
he said, oh, Thor, please take this humble offering to

(03:41):
show that I am forgiven. Almost prostrate now, he picked
up the scoop and placed it on Thor's lap. Beneath
his arms. Immediately there was a soft rumble and humming. Fearfully,
Old Morge watched Thor's arms come down, lift up the scoop,
and carry it inside him huge mouth. There was a

(04:02):
sucking noise, and the scoop was returned empty to his lap.
Filled with joy, Morge spent another endless time thanking Thor.
Then all of a sudden an idea seized him. What
if he carried Thor back to the tribe and presented
him to the priest thou Gore for all to worship
and give sacrifices to. Would not he, the despised the

(04:24):
look down upon, be the greatest of heroes. All that
was known of Thor were the legends, But at last
they would have the actual God. Painfully, with many grunts
and groans, he got Thor under one arm and staggered
off toward the village, his crutch kicking up little puffs
of dust. Builder was having trouble with thou Gore. He

(04:49):
almost wished now that he'd continued his search a little
longer for a segment of humanity, he might have found
a group less primitive who would have appreciated and understood
his help. Much better, But this was the best he'd found.
As it was, he had wandered over the continent nearly
a lifetime before even finding these poor wretches, but they
were at least human, something that couldn't be said for

(05:11):
those others he'd come in contact with all through the
past years. And now, after having been with the tribe,
the only human tribe, for over a year, he was
being balked by this priest, which meant being balked at
setting up truth and knowledge as the only true gods
of humanity, being balked at getting the dam built before

(05:34):
the spring rains, so that there would not be another
summer drought followed by a winter of famine such as
they had just passed through. The dam was his first
big project. Without freedom from want, there would be little
progress next winter. Almost savagely, he turned on Thalgre. But
why must you have this religious festival now because of

(05:58):
the finding of the god thor? Came thou Gore's cold answer,
Why the offerings of blood? Can't they wait? The damn
must be finished before the reins. But the loss of
blood already has so weakened the workers that they can
no longer work for a full day. Which is more
important worldly or spiritual things? Thougro replied, but there may

(06:21):
be won't be any one around to indulge in spiritual things.
If there's another draft this year, Thor will see to
it that there is not another drought. Yes, I know,
but wouldn't it be wiser to be on the safe side.
Suppose somebody does something to displease Thor. Nobody will displease Thor.

(06:42):
It is my duty to see to that I tell
them what to think so that they won't displease Thor.
A crafty devil. You are builder thought, manipulating this image
of Thor you talk about, so that it will take
the blood offerings of the people and even you in
that half baked discipline of yours, Morge, I must look

(07:05):
at your god Thor one of these days. He suddenly
felt very weary and sat down on the floor, looking
up at Thalgor. He said, but that is not part
of being civilized to tell the people what to think.
You must make them think without telling them what to think.
And with the dam next winter, there will be freedom

(07:27):
from want for the first time. The tribe will have
a chance to think and be on the road to civilization.
The tribe has already found civilization by finding Thor. By
worshiping him as a group, they have already ceased their
bickering and quarreling. Does not that fit with your definition
of civilization, the one you gave my people when you

(07:48):
first came to us. Since the coming of Thor, we
have begun to co operate, have we not? No? Hardly
at all? I said. Civilization is co operating among men
in a day, acting to the environment, which includes man.
The two men stared at each other, and for a
while there was silence. Nevertheless, thal Gore finally said, Thor

(08:11):
and blood offerings continue. Builder watched thal Gore turn and
stalk out of the tiny hovel that house his plans
and his work, himself and his dreams. What could he do?
He could only appeal to the tribe's reason. Thal Gore
could appeal to their emotions, which were far stronger. But
unless emotion was controlled used wisely, there could never be

(08:35):
any reason. Builder realized with a sinking heart that he
was much too old for the job. He'd undertaken too
late in life. He had discovered these people, almost all
his energy since youth had been sapped. Just looking for
a segment of humanity. His mother and father had told
him there might be failure, but still they had taught

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him everything they could. In the short time before death
had overtaken them. They had been the only humans living
in that towering jungle of concrete and steel. How they
had gotten there was never explained to him. It didn't matter, though.
Suddenly Builders shook himself. Here he was recollecting his youth
instead of concentrating on the task at hand. He must

(09:19):
really be getting old. He was glad of thal Gore's visit.
At least now he was fully aware of the problem
to be solved in spite of the priest. He had
to find a way of getting that damn finished, and
soon or maybe next year, there wouldn't be any people,
for game was getting scarcer each winter. Very little work

(09:40):
was done that day, in spite of Builders managing to
round up his full crew. The blood offering each worker
had given the night before had left them tired and listless.
Only four of the fifty four molds running across the
river were filled with sand and gravel that morning, and
afternoon there were still nearly fifty to be filled. Was

(10:00):
very depressed, but he was even more depressed at the
close of day, when two workmen grew careless and slipped
into the last mold being filled. Their ear splitting shrieks
brought half the tribe up over the hill above the
village and down to the damned sight. After Builder explained
what had happened, there were angry mutterings to the effect

(10:20):
that Thor was displeased with the dam and therefore had
taken lives. Nothing Builder could say would dissuade them from
this notion. So well had thal Gore indoctrinated them with
religious fear of anything used to control nature. Builder hadn't
realized until that moment just how much the people were
against the dam. Then he saw thal Gore, tall and

(10:42):
ominous in his cloak of black skins, come striding through
the crowd. For a moment he stood facing them with
his hands on his hips. There seemed to be a
silent understanding between them. Slowly the crowd turned and disappeared
over the hill. Then thal Goor strode over to Builder
and said, simply, there will be no more dam. Turning,

(11:05):
he followed the rest of the tribe back to the village.
Builder was thunderstruck. He knew there was no use arguing
or trying to reason with either Thalgor or the tribe.
It was far too late for that. Only some drastic
measure would complete the dam. Now he walked tiredly over
the black hill and down to his shack, wondering how

(11:25):
he could compete with an idol. He realized now it
had been foolish of him to have overlooked the possible
effect Thor might have upon the tribe when it had
been found three months ago. He never dreamed they would
spend all their leisure in rituals. The god was his problem.
Therefore he must get it out of the way himself,
without expecting help from anyone. Each evening, the clouds on

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the northern horizon were darkening and drawing closer. It was
night when Builder finally stumbled into his quarters. After lighting
a pine torch. He sat down by his work bench
and bar buried his head in his hands. He was
too tired and upset to eat, which was just as well.
Outside of deliberately killing thal Gore, there was only one

(12:10):
thing he could do. That was to kidnap Thor. With
this realization, in spite of the risk involved, came some
peace of mind. He hadn't the vaguest idea just how
he was to go about it, especially since his strength
was failing him. But do it he would first, though
he would have to wait until some time before dawn,

(12:31):
when everybody, even thal Gore, was sure to be asleep.
The hours dragged heavily between then and his chosen time.
Many were the times when he longed for something to read,
although he supposed that by this time he'd forgotten how
like wisps of smoke, memories of his youth and the
concrete jungle drifted through his mind. How long ago that

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all seemed. Now sometimes he wondered if any of it
had been real. But here he was, as his parents
wished him to be, trying to help what was left
of humanity, back up the trail to what he wondered
to destruction again, this time probably complete and final. He

(13:13):
shook his old head and ran a trembling hand through
his white, shaggy hair. He'd gotten this far. Somehow he
would get the rest of the way. Builder got up
and crossed over to a sleeping pile. After tying several
skins together, he folded them under his arm and walked
out into the pre dawn night. His bones felt the
crackling cold of early spring, as they had never felt

(13:35):
it before. Slowly he made his way around the village
to where Thor was housed under a huge, slanting roof
of bark and scraped skins. He had never seen Thor
and now wished he'd paid at least one visit to
the god. Like a shadow, he glided carefully through the
blackness and back of the temple until he was just
inside the rear opening. He could see clear across the

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chamber out to the pale, twinkling stars. Then he detected
a dark mass in the center of the temple, silhouetted
against the stars, that must be Thor. Swiftly Builder advanced
toward it until his foot struck something soft, causing him
to stumble and fall. As he did so, he heard
a grunt sounding like someone being kicked in the stomach.

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Then something was on top of him, pounding his head
and shoulders with a heavy stick of some kind. Old
Builder knew he didn't have the strength to wrestle. He
managed to get his pile of skins unfolded and with
his last ounce of strength, throw them over the head
of his attacker. Somehow he managed to wiggle out from
underneath and climb to his feet. His assailant began to
scream for help, but the heavy skins muffled his shouts. Quickly,

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Builder looked around for something to hit him with. The
only thing his eye spotted was the idol. He hobbled
over and, using both arms, dragged it off its dais, then,
with the remainder of his strength, dropped it squarely on
top of whomever was under the skin. There was a
muted clunk, followed by silence. Fearfully, Builder stood there for

(15:07):
a moment, catching his breath and listening for anyone coming.
All was quiet except the pounding of his heart. As
fast as he could make his arms and hands work,
he rolled up the body in the skins and painfully
hoisted it over one shoulder. With his other hand, he
reached down and picked thor up by one of its arms. Then,
staggering under the load, he started back the way he

(15:29):
had come. Except for a grayish streak in the east,
it was still dark. He stumbled and fell several times
before reaching his dwelling, but he was confident that he
had left no tracks. Every night, even this late in
the winter, the ground froze solid. Back inside his shed.

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Still in the dark, Builder unrolled his burden and listened
for any heart beat. There was none. As he rolled
the body up again, something clattered to the floor. It
was a crutch. Quickly he felt for his victim's legs.
One was missing. Of all the people he had to kill,
Morge thal Gore's right hand man. He realized he had

(16:14):
to get rid of the body before daylight and fast.
Already more gray was lining the eastern horizon. He didn't
know whether he had the strength to do it or not,
but he had to get Morge up to the dam
and into one of the unfilled molds. For the time being,
he would have to hide Thor some place inside here.
He couldn't carry both of them up to the dam.

(16:35):
He rolled the idol up in another set of skins
and placed it under the head of his sleeping pile. Then,
picking up his other bundle once more, he started for
the dam. The sun was just peeking over the horizon
when Builder finally stumbled back into his dwelling and into bed.
All that day he lay there, body on fire, with
fever and heart pounding like a drum. He was almost

(16:58):
certain he would soon die. It was just as well.
A little corner of his consciousness said, at least he
would be missing all the frenzied excitement of Thor's disappearance,
along with Morge. But it looked as though he had
failed after all, in spite of removing the god. Now
he was dying and the dam still unfinished. The day

(17:19):
dragged on and on, and he didn't die. After waking
up in late afternoon, he felt better. He ate a
handful of nuts and figs, washed down with a little
herb tea. Then as night crept over the sky, he
tottered down to the village. Whatever had taken place during
the day was done, and little groups of people stood
around fires, resting and talking as though it were the

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old days before the coming of Thor. Thought Builder, that
was good. Fielder moved in closer to one of the
fires to warm himself against the early spring night. Someone
recognized him. It was one of his workers, and he
was suddenly made welcome once again, being given the place
of honor the fire, as in the old days when

(18:02):
he first discovered the humans. Builder was dumbfounded at the
sudden cordiality in recent days. Thougor had done such a
good job of discrediting he never dreamed of regaining his
old standing. Then he was told what had happened during
the day while he lay almost dying, when the god
and Morge were discovered missing. Thalgor had called the village together,

(18:23):
explaining that Thor had left them, taking Morge as a
sacrifice because he was dissatisfied with the tribe's paltry blood
offerings and worship. Therefore, a great death sacrifice of young
men and women must be undertaken to pacify Thor and
cause his return. But the people questioned Thougor's order. They

(18:44):
seemed to feel it was the priest who had been
at fault, not themselves. After all, he was the closest
to Thor, was he not. Therefore it was Thougor, not
the village, that Thor had become angered at, And after
holding quick counsel, they had driven Thaougor out into the wilderness,
telling him he was not to return unless Thor was

(19:04):
with him. Old Builder almost cried when he heard this
joyful news. The dam would be completed after all, he
was almost certain. He decided to say nothing more about
religion Thor or Thalgre. Maybe soon they would forget the
whole thing. Now he could go back to teaching the
youngsters and some of the brighter oldsters the methods of

(19:25):
writing and symbols instead of drawing pictures. Hours and days
turned into weeks and months as Builder taught his people
what feeble knowledge he possessed in arithmetic, simple engineering such
as the dam, and most of all, instilling in them
the will to want to learn and investigate and question
anything they came in contact with, even the very thing

(19:48):
he was asking them to do. As the weeks passed
on and the dam was completed, he gradually gathered around
him an ardent little group of seeker after that most
elusive of all things, truth. But Builder knew that his
days were numbered now and his work completed. There was
still one thing he had to do, and that was

(20:08):
permanently to do away with Thor by dropping the idol
to the bottom of the dam. He still hadn't examined
the god hidden under his sleeping pile. One evening, after
returning from a solitary walk above the dam, he entered
his shack and led a torch, then almost dropped it
from shock. His dwelling was a wreck. The place had

(20:28):
been ransacked from top to bottom. His sleeping pile lay
in the middle of the floor. The idol was gone.
He turned and fled from the room, But before he
could take a dozen steps toward the village, several shadows
glided out from behind trees and rocks in the moonlight,
resolving themselves into men. Before he could cry out or struggle,

(20:49):
strong arms pinned his arms to his body, and someone
clapped a dirty hand over his mouth. He was forced
back into his hovel and the door slam shut. Standing
in front of him was a very bedraggled figure, whom
he recognized as thal Gore. He also recognized his three
other captors. All were elderly reactionaries of the tribe who

(21:10):
had disapproved of him from the beginning. In spite of
his predicament, Builder felt a warm glow of happiness course
through him. If these were the only cronies thou Gore
could round up, that meant the rest of the villagers
were sympathetic with his cause. He suddenly became aware of
thal Gore's grating voice. It took me a little time
to piece things together, but once I did, it didn't

(21:32):
take me long to come back and find the God.
Where I might have at first suspected it would be
right here. For your sacrilege, you will pay with every
last drop of blood you have in your scrawny old body.
And now whereupon Taralgore disappeared out of the hovel. Somehow
Builder had known they were going to kill him before
arousing the rest of the tribe to the fact that

(21:54):
Thor was back. Thal Gore was taking no chances of
his standing in the way of him or Thor ever again,
but Builder didn't care. He had sown his few seeds
of knowledge and wisdom well, although thal Goor didn't know it.
This time he wouldn't have complete homage from all the tribe.
There would now be doubts and questionings and tests for

(22:15):
both Thor and thal Gore in the ways of truth
and righteousness. Then thal Goor returned to the shack with
what Builder thought must be Thor. The hand over his
mouth had twisted his head back so that he only
got a glimpse, but he didn't miss the long knife
Thalgor pulled from beneath his tattered skins, nor the large
sacrificial bowl one of the others held below his neck.

(22:38):
Then his head was tilted forward and sideways, and he
got his first full look at the god Thor. At
the sight, his whole body shook with smothered laughter. Below
the two arms and etched a thunderbolt, were large block
letters standing out in bold relief Thor Automatic Dishwasher, Atomic

(22:59):
Power nineteen ninety nine, and of Regeneration by Charles Dye