August 8, 2025 • 22 mins
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Talkative Tree by Horace brown Fife dang vines beats
all how, some plants have no manners, But what do
you expect when they used to be men? All things
considered the obscure star, the undetermined damage to the stellar drive,
(00:23):
and the way the small planet's murky atmosphere defied precision scanners,
the pilot made a reasonably good landing, despite sour feelings
for the Space Service of howartas Steward Peter Colin had
to admit that the casualties might have been far worse.
(00:43):
Chief Steward slichow led his little command lest two third
class ration keepers, thought to have been trapped in the
lower hold, to appoint two hundred meters from the steaming
hull of the Peace State. He lined them up as
if on parade. Colan made himself inconspicuous, since the crew
(01:06):
will be on emergency watches repairing the damage. Announced the
Chief in clipped aggressive tones. I have volunteered my section
for preliminary scouting as is suitable. It may be useful
to discover temporary sources in this area of natural foods.
Volunteered his section, thought Colan rebelliously like the Supreme Director,
(01:30):
of Hartaws being conscripted into this idiotic space fleet that
never fights is bad enough without a ten god on jets.
Like Slichow, prudently, he did not express this resentment overtly.
His well schooled features revealed no trace of the idea,
(01:52):
or of any other idea. The planetary state of Hartas
had been organized some fifteen light years from Old Earth,
but many of the homeworld's less kindly techniques had been employed.
Lack of complete loyalty to the state was likely to
result in a siege of treatment that left the subject
(02:14):
suitably quote re personalized unquote. Colan had heard of instances
where in mere, unenthusiastic posture had betrayed intentions to harbor
treasonable thoughts. You will scout in five details of three
persons each, Chief, Slichow said. Every hour, each detail will
(02:36):
send me one person in to report, and he will
be replaced by one of the five. I shall keep
here to issue rations. Colan permitted himself to wonder when
anyone might get some rest, but assumed a mildly willing
look too eager an attitude could arouse suspicion of disguising
an improper viewpoint. The maintenance of a proper viewpoint was
(03:01):
a necessity if the planetary state were to survive the
hostile plots of Earth and the latter's decatent colonies. That
at least was the official line. Colan found himself in
a group with Jack Ammett, a third cook, and Eva Yurtuk,
powdered food storekeeper. Since the crew would be eating packaged
(03:25):
rations during repairs, Yurtuk could be spared to command a
scout detail. Each scout was issued a rocket pistol and
a plastic water tube. Chief Slichow emphasized that the keepers
of rations could hardly, in an emergency, give even the
appearance of favoring themselves in regard to food they would
(03:48):
go without. Colan maintained a standard expression as the Chief's
sharp stare measured them yer talk. A dark, lean faced
girl led the way with a quiet monosyllable. She carried
the small radio they would be permitted to use for
messages of utmost urgency. Amet followed and Colan brought up
(04:11):
the rear. To reach their assigned sector, they had to
climb a forbidding ridge of rock within a half a kilometer.
Only a sparse creeper grew along their way, its elongated
leaves shimmering with bronze green reflections against the stony surface.
But when they topped the ridge, a thick forest was
(04:33):
in sight. Yurtuk and Ammet paused momentarily before descending. Colon
shared their sense of isolation. They would be out of
sight of authority and responsible for their own actions. It
was a strange sensation. They marched down into the valley
at a brisk pace, becoming more aware of the clouds
(04:56):
and atmospheric caves. Distant objects seemed blurre by the mist,
taking on a somber, brooding grayness. For all Colon could tell,
he and the others were isolated in a world bounded
by the rocky ridge behind them and a semicircle of
damp trees and bushes several hundred meters away. He suspected
(05:18):
that the hills rising mistily ahead were part of a
continuous slope, but could not be sure. Yir talk led
the way along the most nearly level ground. Low creepers
became more plentiful, interspersed with scrubby thickets of tangled, spike
armored bushes. Occasionally, small flying things flickered among the foliage.
(05:42):
Once a shrub puffed out an enormous cloud of tiny spores.
Be a job to find anything edible here, grunted Ammet,
and Colan agreed. Finally, after a longer hike than he
had anticipated, they approached the edge of a deceptive, distant
forest yur took paws to examine some purple berries glistening
(06:05):
dangerously on a low shrub. Colan regarded the trees with
misgiving looks as tough to get through as a tropical jungle.
He remarked, I think this stuff puts out shoots that
grow back into the ground to root as they spread,
said the woman, Maybe we can find a way through.
In two or three minutes, they reached the abrupt border
(06:28):
of the odd looking trees. Except for one thick trunk giant,
all of them were about the same height. They craned
their necks to estimate the altitude of the monster, but
the top was hidden by the wide spread of branches.
The depths behind it looked dark and impenetrable. We'd better
(06:48):
explore along the edge, decided your talk, emmetts. Now is
the time to go back and tell the chief which
way were Emmitt Colin looked over his shoulder. Fifty meters away,
Ammet sat beside the bush with the purple berries utterly relaxed.
He must have tasted some, exclaimed Colan. I'll see how
(07:10):
he is. He ran back to the cook and shook
him by the shoulder. Emmett's head lolled loosely to one side.
His rather heavy features were vacant, lending him a doped
to appearance. Colan straightened up and beckoned to your talk.
For some reason, he had trouble attracting her attention. Then
(07:31):
he noticed that she was kneeling. I hope she didn't
eat something stupid too, he grumbled, trotting back as he
reached her. Whatever your tuck was examining came to life
and scooted it into the underbrush with a flash of
greenish fur. All Colin saw was that it had several
legs too many. He pulled yourtuck to her feet. She
(07:53):
palled at him weakly, eyes as vacant as Amet's. When
he let go in sudden horror, he folded gently to
the ground. She lay comfortably on her side, twitching one
hand as if to brush something away. When she began
to smile dreamily, Colan backed away. The corners of his
mouth felt oddly stiff. They had involuntarily drawn back to
(08:17):
expose his clenched teeth. He glanced warily about, but nothing
appeared to threaten him. It's time to end this scout,
he told himself. It's dangerous. One good look and I'm
jetting off. What I need is an easy tree to climb.
He considered the massive giant, soaring thirty or forty meters
(08:39):
into the thin fog and dwarfing other growth. It seemed
the most promising choice. At first, Colin saw no way,
but then the network of vines clinging to the rugged
trunk suggested a rout. He tried his weight gingerly, and
then began to climb. I should have brought your Tuck's radio,
(09:00):
he muttered. Oh well, I can take it when I
come down. If she hasn't snapped out of her spell
by then. Funny, I wonder if that green thing bitter
footholds were plentiful among the interlaced Leana's. Colin progressed rapidly.
When he reached the first thick limbs twice head height,
he felt safer later at what he hoped was the
(09:22):
half way mark. He hooked one knee over a branch
and paused to wipe sweat from his eyes. Peering down,
he discovered the ground to be obscured by foliage. I
should have checked from down there to see how open
the top is, he mused. I wonder how the view
will be from up there. Depends on what you're looking for, Sonny,
(09:45):
something remarked in a softing wheeze. Colin, slipping, grabbed desperately
for the branch. His fingers clutched a handful of twigs
and leaves, which just barely supported him until he regained
a grip with the other hand. The branch quivered resentfully
under him. Careful there, wushed the eerie voice. It took
(10:07):
me all summer to grow those. Colan could feel his
skin crawling along his backbone. Who are you, he gasped.
The answering sigh of laughter gave him a distinct chill.
Despite its suggestion of amiability names Johnnie Ashloo kind of
(10:28):
thought you'd start with what I am. Didn't figure you'd
ever seen a man grown into a tree before. Colin
looked about seeing a little but leaves and fog. I
have to climb down, he told himself in a reasonable tone.
It's bad enough that the other two passed out without
me going space happy too, watcher Hurry demanded the voice.
(10:52):
I can talk to you as easy all the way down.
You know, ear holes in my bark. I'm not like
an Earth tree. Colin examined the bark of the crotch
in which he sat. It did seem to have assorted
holes and hollows in its rough surface. I never saw
an Earth tree, he admitted. We came down from Hartaus.
(11:16):
Where's that? Oh? Never mind, some little planet. I don't
bother with them all, since I came here and found
out I could be anything I wanted. What do you
mean anything you wanted? Asked Colin, testing the firmness of
a vertical vine. Jest what I said, continued the voice,
sounding closer in his ear as his cheek brushed the
(11:38):
ridged bark of the tree trunk. And if I do
have to remind you, it would be nicer if you said,
mister Ashlow, considering my age, your age, how old? Can't
really count it in Earth years any more? Lost track.
I always figured beIN a tree was just a nice,
(11:59):
peaceful life. And when I remembered how long of some
of them live. Oh that's settled it, sonny. This world
ain't all it looks like it isn't, mister Ashloo, asked Colin,
twisting about in an effort to see what the higher
branches might hide. No, most everything here is run by
(12:19):
the life. That is, by the thing that first grew
big enough to do some thinking and said its roots
down all over till till it had control. That's the
outskirts of it, down below the other trees that jungle.
It's more n a jungle, sonny. When I landed here
along with the others from the Arcturian Spark, the planet
(12:43):
looked pretty empty to me, just like it must have
to watch it there. Boy, if I didn't twist that
branch over in time, you'd be bouncing off my roots
right now. The thanks grunted Colin, hanging on grimly dog
on vine, commented the windy whisper. He ain't one of
(13:03):
my crowd. Landed here years later in a ship from
some star towards the center of the galaxy. You should
have seen his looks before the life got in touch
with his mind and set up a mental field to
help him change form. He looks twice as good as
a vine. Uh, he's very handy, agreed Colin politely. He
(13:24):
groped for a foothold. Well, matter of fact, I can't
get through to him much, even with the life's mental
field helping. Guess he started living with a different way
of thinkin it burns me. I thought it'd beIN a tree,
and then he came along to take advantage of it.
Colin braced himself securely to stretch his tiring muscles. Uh,
(13:48):
maybe I better stay awhile, he muttered, I don't know
where I am. You're about fifty feet up. The sighing
voice informed him. You ought to let me tell you
how the life helps you change. You don't have to
be a tree. No, uh uh. Some of those boys
that landed with me wanted to get around and see things.
(14:11):
Lots changed to animals or birds. Won't even stayed a
man on the outside anyway. Most of them have to
change as the bodies were out, which I don't, and
some made bad mistakes trying to be the things they
saw on other planets. Oh, I wouldn't want to do that,
mister Ashloo. There's just one thing the life don't like
(14:33):
taking chances on word about this place getting around it
sort of believes in peace and quiet. You might not
get back to your ship in any form that could
tell tales listen. Culon blurted out, I wasn't so much
enjoying being what I was. That getting back matters to me.
(14:53):
Don't like your home planet, whatever that name was, Artas
it's a rotten place, a planetary state. You have to
think and even look the way that standard thirty hours
a day asleep er awake. You get scared to sleep
for fear you might dream treason and they'll find out
somehow Ooo, I heard about them. Places must be tough
(15:15):
just to live. Suddenly, Colan found himself telling the tree
about life on Hartaus and of the officially announced threats
to the planetary state's planned expansion. He dwelt upon the
desperation of having no place to hide in case of
trouble with the authorities. A multiple system of such worlds
(15:36):
was agonizing to imagine. Somehow, the oddity of talking to
a tree wore off. Colan heard opinions spouting out which
he had prudently kept bottled up for years. The more
he talked and stormed and complained, the more relaxed, he
felt if there was any ever a fella ready for
(15:56):
this planet, decided the tree named ashlew you're it, Sonny,
hang on there while I signal the life by root.
Colon sends a lack of direct attention. The rustle about
him was natural, caused by an ordinary breeze. He noticed
his hand shaking. Don't know what got into me talkin
(16:17):
that way to a tree, He muttered, if your talk
snapped out of it and heard, I'm just as good
as re personalized right now. As he brooded upon the
sorry choice of arousing a search by hiding where he
was or going back to bluff things out, the tree spoke,
Maybe you're all, said Sonny. The life has been a
(16:39):
thinkin of learning about other worlds. If you can think
of a safe form to jet off in, you might
make yourself a deal. How'd you like to stay here?
I don't know, said Colin. The penalty for desertion, whoosh,
who'd find you? You could be a bird, or a tree,
or even a cloud. Silenced but doubting, Colin permitted himself
(17:03):
to try the dream on for size. He considered what
form might most easily escape the notice of search parties
and still be tough enough to live a long time
without renewal. Another factor slipped into his musings. Mere hope
of escape was unsatisfying after the outbursts that had defined
(17:24):
his fuming hatred for Hartaus. I'd better watch myself, he thought,
don't drop diamonds to grab it. Stars. Well, what I
wish I could do is not just get away, but
get even for the way they make us live, the
whole damn set up. They could just as easy make
(17:44):
peace with the Earth colonies. You know why they don't, why,
wheezed ashlew. They're scared that without talk of war and
scouting for earth fleets that never come, people would have
time to think about the way they have to live
and who's running things in the planetary state. Then the
gravy train would get blown up, and I mean blown up.
(18:09):
The tree was silent for a moment. Colin felt the
branches stir meditatively. Then Ashloo offered a suggestion. I could
tell the life your size of it, he hissed, Once
in with us, you can always make thinking connections, no
matter how far away. Maybe you could make a deal
(18:30):
to kill two birds with one stone, as they used
to say, on earth. Chief steward Slitchow paced up and
down beside the ratch and crate turned up to serve
him as the field desk. He scowled in turn, impartially
at his watch and at the weary stewards of his
headquarters detail. The latter stumbled about stacking and distributing small
(18:55):
packets of emergency rations. The line of crewmen released temporarily
from repair work was transient as to individuals, but immutable
as to length. Slichow muttered something profane about disregard of
orders as he glared at the rocky ridges surrounding the
landing place. He was so intent upon planning greetings with
(19:17):
which to favor the tardy scouting parties that he failed
to notice the loose cloud drifting over the ridge. It
was tenuous, almost a Hayes. Close examination would have revealed
it to be made of myriads of tiny spores. They
resembled those cast forth by one of the bushes Colan's
(19:37):
party had passed along the edges. The haze faded raggedly
into thin air, but the units evidently formed a cohesive body.
They drifted together, approaching the men as if taking intelligent
advantage of the breeze. One of Chief slitch How's daggering flunkeys,
stealing a few seconds of relaxation on the pretext of
(20:01):
dumping an armful of light plastic packing, wandered into the haze.
He froze. After a few heartbeats, he dropped the trash
and stared at ship and men as if he had
never seen either. A hail from his master moved him. Coming, Chief,
he called, but returning at a moderate pace, he murmured,
(20:24):
my name is Frasier. I'm a second assistant steward. I'll
think as unit one. Throughout the cloud of spores, the
mind formerly known as Peter Colan congratulated itself upon its
choice of form, nearer to the original shape of life
than Ashloo got, he thought. He paused to consider the
(20:47):
state of the tree named Ashloo, half immortal, but rooted
to one spot, unable to float on a breeze or
through space itself on the pressure of light. Especially, it
was unable to insinuate any part of itself into the
control center of another form of life. As a second
(21:07):
Spoor was taking charge of the body of Chief Slichow
at that very instant. There are not enough men, thought Colan,
some of me must drift through the airlock in space,
I can spread through the air system to the command group.
Repairs to the peace state, and the return to Hartaz
(21:29):
passed like weeks to some of the crew, but like
brief moments in infinity to other units. At last, the
ship parted the air above headquarters city and landed. The
unit known as Captain Theodore Kessel hesitated before descending the ramp.
He surveyed the field, the city, and the waiting team
(21:50):
of inspecting officers could hardly be better, could it? He
chuckled to the companion unit called Security Officer tarth Hard Sir.
All ready for the liberation of Hartas, reformation of the
planetary state, mused the Captain, smiling dreamily as he grasped
the handrail, and then formation of the planetary mind. End
(22:17):
of the Talkative Tree by Horace Brownfife
The Talkative Tree by Horace brown Fife dang vines beats
all how, some plants have no manners, But what do
you expect when they used to be men? All things
considered the obscure star, the undetermined damage to the stellar drive,
(00:23):
and the way the small planet's murky atmosphere defied precision scanners,
the pilot made a reasonably good landing, despite sour feelings
for the Space Service of howartas Steward Peter Colin had
to admit that the casualties might have been far worse.
(00:43):
Chief Steward slichow led his little command lest two third
class ration keepers, thought to have been trapped in the
lower hold, to appoint two hundred meters from the steaming
hull of the Peace State. He lined them up as
if on parade. Colan made himself inconspicuous, since the crew
(01:06):
will be on emergency watches repairing the damage. Announced the
Chief in clipped aggressive tones. I have volunteered my section
for preliminary scouting as is suitable. It may be useful
to discover temporary sources in this area of natural foods.
Volunteered his section, thought Colan rebelliously like the Supreme Director,
(01:30):
of Hartaws being conscripted into this idiotic space fleet that
never fights is bad enough without a ten god on jets.
Like Slichow, prudently, he did not express this resentment overtly.
His well schooled features revealed no trace of the idea,
(01:52):
or of any other idea. The planetary state of Hartas
had been organized some fifteen light years from Old Earth,
but many of the homeworld's less kindly techniques had been employed.
Lack of complete loyalty to the state was likely to
result in a siege of treatment that left the subject
(02:14):
suitably quote re personalized unquote. Colan had heard of instances
where in mere, unenthusiastic posture had betrayed intentions to harbor
treasonable thoughts. You will scout in five details of three
persons each, Chief, Slichow said. Every hour, each detail will
(02:36):
send me one person in to report, and he will
be replaced by one of the five. I shall keep
here to issue rations. Colan permitted himself to wonder when
anyone might get some rest, but assumed a mildly willing
look too eager an attitude could arouse suspicion of disguising
an improper viewpoint. The maintenance of a proper viewpoint was
(03:01):
a necessity if the planetary state were to survive the
hostile plots of Earth and the latter's decatent colonies. That
at least was the official line. Colan found himself in
a group with Jack Ammett, a third cook, and Eva Yurtuk,
powdered food storekeeper. Since the crew would be eating packaged
(03:25):
rations during repairs, Yurtuk could be spared to command a
scout detail. Each scout was issued a rocket pistol and
a plastic water tube. Chief Slichow emphasized that the keepers
of rations could hardly, in an emergency, give even the
appearance of favoring themselves in regard to food they would
(03:48):
go without. Colan maintained a standard expression as the Chief's
sharp stare measured them yer talk. A dark, lean faced
girl led the way with a quiet monosyllable. She carried
the small radio they would be permitted to use for
messages of utmost urgency. Amet followed and Colan brought up
(04:11):
the rear. To reach their assigned sector, they had to
climb a forbidding ridge of rock within a half a kilometer.
Only a sparse creeper grew along their way, its elongated
leaves shimmering with bronze green reflections against the stony surface.
But when they topped the ridge, a thick forest was
(04:33):
in sight. Yurtuk and Ammet paused momentarily before descending. Colon
shared their sense of isolation. They would be out of
sight of authority and responsible for their own actions. It
was a strange sensation. They marched down into the valley
at a brisk pace, becoming more aware of the clouds
(04:56):
and atmospheric caves. Distant objects seemed blurre by the mist,
taking on a somber, brooding grayness. For all Colon could tell,
he and the others were isolated in a world bounded
by the rocky ridge behind them and a semicircle of
damp trees and bushes several hundred meters away. He suspected
(05:18):
that the hills rising mistily ahead were part of a
continuous slope, but could not be sure. Yir talk led
the way along the most nearly level ground. Low creepers
became more plentiful, interspersed with scrubby thickets of tangled, spike
armored bushes. Occasionally, small flying things flickered among the foliage.
(05:42):
Once a shrub puffed out an enormous cloud of tiny spores.
Be a job to find anything edible here, grunted Ammet,
and Colan agreed. Finally, after a longer hike than he
had anticipated, they approached the edge of a deceptive, distant
forest yur took paws to examine some purple berries glistening
(06:05):
dangerously on a low shrub. Colan regarded the trees with
misgiving looks as tough to get through as a tropical jungle.
He remarked, I think this stuff puts out shoots that
grow back into the ground to root as they spread,
said the woman, Maybe we can find a way through.
In two or three minutes, they reached the abrupt border
(06:28):
of the odd looking trees. Except for one thick trunk giant,
all of them were about the same height. They craned
their necks to estimate the altitude of the monster, but
the top was hidden by the wide spread of branches.
The depths behind it looked dark and impenetrable. We'd better
(06:48):
explore along the edge, decided your talk, emmetts. Now is
the time to go back and tell the chief which
way were Emmitt Colin looked over his shoulder. Fifty meters away,
Ammet sat beside the bush with the purple berries utterly relaxed.
He must have tasted some, exclaimed Colan. I'll see how
(07:10):
he is. He ran back to the cook and shook
him by the shoulder. Emmett's head lolled loosely to one side.
His rather heavy features were vacant, lending him a doped
to appearance. Colan straightened up and beckoned to your talk.
For some reason, he had trouble attracting her attention. Then
(07:31):
he noticed that she was kneeling. I hope she didn't
eat something stupid too, he grumbled, trotting back as he
reached her. Whatever your tuck was examining came to life
and scooted it into the underbrush with a flash of
greenish fur. All Colin saw was that it had several
legs too many. He pulled yourtuck to her feet. She
(07:53):
palled at him weakly, eyes as vacant as Amet's. When
he let go in sudden horror, he folded gently to
the ground. She lay comfortably on her side, twitching one
hand as if to brush something away. When she began
to smile dreamily, Colan backed away. The corners of his
mouth felt oddly stiff. They had involuntarily drawn back to
(08:17):
expose his clenched teeth. He glanced warily about, but nothing
appeared to threaten him. It's time to end this scout,
he told himself. It's dangerous. One good look and I'm
jetting off. What I need is an easy tree to climb.
He considered the massive giant, soaring thirty or forty meters
(08:39):
into the thin fog and dwarfing other growth. It seemed
the most promising choice. At first, Colin saw no way,
but then the network of vines clinging to the rugged
trunk suggested a rout. He tried his weight gingerly, and
then began to climb. I should have brought your Tuck's radio,
(09:00):
he muttered. Oh well, I can take it when I
come down. If she hasn't snapped out of her spell
by then. Funny, I wonder if that green thing bitter
footholds were plentiful among the interlaced Leana's. Colin progressed rapidly.
When he reached the first thick limbs twice head height,
he felt safer later at what he hoped was the
(09:22):
half way mark. He hooked one knee over a branch
and paused to wipe sweat from his eyes. Peering down,
he discovered the ground to be obscured by foliage. I
should have checked from down there to see how open
the top is, he mused. I wonder how the view
will be from up there. Depends on what you're looking for, Sonny,
(09:45):
something remarked in a softing wheeze. Colin, slipping, grabbed desperately
for the branch. His fingers clutched a handful of twigs
and leaves, which just barely supported him until he regained
a grip with the other hand. The branch quivered resentfully
under him. Careful there, wushed the eerie voice. It took
(10:07):
me all summer to grow those. Colan could feel his
skin crawling along his backbone. Who are you, he gasped.
The answering sigh of laughter gave him a distinct chill.
Despite its suggestion of amiability names Johnnie Ashloo kind of
(10:28):
thought you'd start with what I am. Didn't figure you'd
ever seen a man grown into a tree before. Colin
looked about seeing a little but leaves and fog. I
have to climb down, he told himself in a reasonable tone.
It's bad enough that the other two passed out without
me going space happy too, watcher Hurry demanded the voice.
(10:52):
I can talk to you as easy all the way down.
You know, ear holes in my bark. I'm not like
an Earth tree. Colin examined the bark of the crotch
in which he sat. It did seem to have assorted
holes and hollows in its rough surface. I never saw
an Earth tree, he admitted. We came down from Hartaus.
(11:16):
Where's that? Oh? Never mind, some little planet. I don't
bother with them all, since I came here and found
out I could be anything I wanted. What do you
mean anything you wanted? Asked Colin, testing the firmness of
a vertical vine. Jest what I said, continued the voice,
sounding closer in his ear as his cheek brushed the
(11:38):
ridged bark of the tree trunk. And if I do
have to remind you, it would be nicer if you said,
mister Ashlow, considering my age, your age, how old? Can't
really count it in Earth years any more? Lost track.
I always figured beIN a tree was just a nice,
(11:59):
peaceful life. And when I remembered how long of some
of them live. Oh that's settled it, sonny. This world
ain't all it looks like it isn't, mister Ashloo, asked Colin,
twisting about in an effort to see what the higher
branches might hide. No, most everything here is run by
(12:19):
the life. That is, by the thing that first grew
big enough to do some thinking and said its roots
down all over till till it had control. That's the
outskirts of it, down below the other trees that jungle.
It's more n a jungle, sonny. When I landed here
along with the others from the Arcturian Spark, the planet
(12:43):
looked pretty empty to me, just like it must have
to watch it there. Boy, if I didn't twist that
branch over in time, you'd be bouncing off my roots
right now. The thanks grunted Colin, hanging on grimly dog
on vine, commented the windy whisper. He ain't one of
(13:03):
my crowd. Landed here years later in a ship from
some star towards the center of the galaxy. You should
have seen his looks before the life got in touch
with his mind and set up a mental field to
help him change form. He looks twice as good as
a vine. Uh, he's very handy, agreed Colin politely. He
(13:24):
groped for a foothold. Well, matter of fact, I can't
get through to him much, even with the life's mental
field helping. Guess he started living with a different way
of thinkin it burns me. I thought it'd beIN a tree,
and then he came along to take advantage of it.
Colin braced himself securely to stretch his tiring muscles. Uh,
(13:48):
maybe I better stay awhile, he muttered, I don't know
where I am. You're about fifty feet up. The sighing
voice informed him. You ought to let me tell you
how the life helps you change. You don't have to
be a tree. No, uh uh. Some of those boys
that landed with me wanted to get around and see things.
(14:11):
Lots changed to animals or birds. Won't even stayed a
man on the outside anyway. Most of them have to
change as the bodies were out, which I don't, and
some made bad mistakes trying to be the things they
saw on other planets. Oh, I wouldn't want to do that,
mister Ashloo. There's just one thing the life don't like
(14:33):
taking chances on word about this place getting around it
sort of believes in peace and quiet. You might not
get back to your ship in any form that could
tell tales listen. Culon blurted out, I wasn't so much
enjoying being what I was. That getting back matters to me.
(14:53):
Don't like your home planet, whatever that name was, Artas
it's a rotten place, a planetary state. You have to
think and even look the way that standard thirty hours
a day asleep er awake. You get scared to sleep
for fear you might dream treason and they'll find out
somehow Ooo, I heard about them. Places must be tough
(15:15):
just to live. Suddenly, Colan found himself telling the tree
about life on Hartaus and of the officially announced threats
to the planetary state's planned expansion. He dwelt upon the
desperation of having no place to hide in case of
trouble with the authorities. A multiple system of such worlds
(15:36):
was agonizing to imagine. Somehow, the oddity of talking to
a tree wore off. Colan heard opinions spouting out which
he had prudently kept bottled up for years. The more
he talked and stormed and complained, the more relaxed, he
felt if there was any ever a fella ready for
(15:56):
this planet, decided the tree named ashlew you're it, Sonny,
hang on there while I signal the life by root.
Colon sends a lack of direct attention. The rustle about
him was natural, caused by an ordinary breeze. He noticed
his hand shaking. Don't know what got into me talkin
(16:17):
that way to a tree, He muttered, if your talk
snapped out of it and heard, I'm just as good
as re personalized right now. As he brooded upon the
sorry choice of arousing a search by hiding where he
was or going back to bluff things out, the tree spoke,
Maybe you're all, said Sonny. The life has been a
(16:39):
thinkin of learning about other worlds. If you can think
of a safe form to jet off in, you might
make yourself a deal. How'd you like to stay here?
I don't know, said Colin. The penalty for desertion, whoosh,
who'd find you? You could be a bird, or a tree,
or even a cloud. Silenced but doubting, Colin permitted himself
(17:03):
to try the dream on for size. He considered what
form might most easily escape the notice of search parties
and still be tough enough to live a long time
without renewal. Another factor slipped into his musings. Mere hope
of escape was unsatisfying after the outbursts that had defined
(17:24):
his fuming hatred for Hartaus. I'd better watch myself, he thought,
don't drop diamonds to grab it. Stars. Well, what I
wish I could do is not just get away, but
get even for the way they make us live, the
whole damn set up. They could just as easy make
(17:44):
peace with the Earth colonies. You know why they don't, why,
wheezed ashlew. They're scared that without talk of war and
scouting for earth fleets that never come, people would have
time to think about the way they have to live
and who's running things in the planetary state. Then the
gravy train would get blown up, and I mean blown up.
(18:09):
The tree was silent for a moment. Colin felt the
branches stir meditatively. Then Ashloo offered a suggestion. I could
tell the life your size of it, he hissed, Once
in with us, you can always make thinking connections, no
matter how far away. Maybe you could make a deal
(18:30):
to kill two birds with one stone, as they used
to say, on earth. Chief steward Slitchow paced up and
down beside the ratch and crate turned up to serve
him as the field desk. He scowled in turn, impartially
at his watch and at the weary stewards of his
headquarters detail. The latter stumbled about stacking and distributing small
(18:55):
packets of emergency rations. The line of crewmen released temporarily
from repair work was transient as to individuals, but immutable
as to length. Slichow muttered something profane about disregard of
orders as he glared at the rocky ridges surrounding the
landing place. He was so intent upon planning greetings with
(19:17):
which to favor the tardy scouting parties that he failed
to notice the loose cloud drifting over the ridge. It
was tenuous, almost a Hayes. Close examination would have revealed
it to be made of myriads of tiny spores. They
resembled those cast forth by one of the bushes Colan's
(19:37):
party had passed along the edges. The haze faded raggedly
into thin air, but the units evidently formed a cohesive body.
They drifted together, approaching the men as if taking intelligent
advantage of the breeze. One of Chief slitch How's daggering flunkeys,
stealing a few seconds of relaxation on the pretext of
(20:01):
dumping an armful of light plastic packing, wandered into the haze.
He froze. After a few heartbeats, he dropped the trash
and stared at ship and men as if he had
never seen either. A hail from his master moved him. Coming, Chief,
he called, but returning at a moderate pace, he murmured,
(20:24):
my name is Frasier. I'm a second assistant steward. I'll
think as unit one. Throughout the cloud of spores, the
mind formerly known as Peter Colan congratulated itself upon its
choice of form, nearer to the original shape of life
than Ashloo got, he thought. He paused to consider the
(20:47):
state of the tree named Ashloo, half immortal, but rooted
to one spot, unable to float on a breeze or
through space itself on the pressure of light. Especially, it
was unable to insinuate any part of itself into the
control center of another form of life. As a second
(21:07):
Spoor was taking charge of the body of Chief Slichow
at that very instant. There are not enough men, thought Colan,
some of me must drift through the airlock in space,
I can spread through the air system to the command group.
Repairs to the peace state, and the return to Hartaz
(21:29):
passed like weeks to some of the crew, but like
brief moments in infinity to other units. At last, the
ship parted the air above headquarters city and landed. The
unit known as Captain Theodore Kessel hesitated before descending the ramp.
He surveyed the field, the city, and the waiting team
(21:50):
of inspecting officers could hardly be better, could it? He
chuckled to the companion unit called Security Officer tarth Hard Sir.
All ready for the liberation of Hartas, reformation of the
planetary state, mused the Captain, smiling dreamily as he grasped
the handrail, and then formation of the planetary mind. End
(22:17):
of the Talkative Tree by Horace Brownfife
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