The Deep Range - Arthur C. Clarke [73]
“The next proposal I want to talk about,” began the scientist, “is still entirely in the planning stage. I know that one of our most serious problems is staff shortage, and I’ve been trying to think of ways in which we can improve efficiency by releasing men from routine jobs.”
“Surely that process has gone about as far as it can, short of making everything completely automatic? Anyway, it’s less than a year since the last team of efficiency experts went over us.” (And, added Franklin to himself, the bureau isn’t quite back to normal yet.)
“My approach to the problem,” explained Lundquist, “is a little unconventional, and as an ex-warden yourself I think you’ll be particularly interested in it. As you know, it normally takes two or even three subs to round up a large school of whales; if a single sub tries it, they’ll scatter in all directions. Now this has often seemed to me a shocking waste of man power and equipment, since all the thinking could be done by a single warden. He only needs his partners to make the right noises in the right places—something a machine could do just as well.”
“If you’re thinking of automatic slave subs,” said Franklin, “it’s been tried—and it didn’t work. A warden can’t handle two ships at once, let alone three.”
“I know all about that experiment,” answered Lundquist. “It could have been a success if they’d tackled it properly. But my idea is much more revolutionary. Tell me—does the name ‘sheep dog’ mean anything to you?”
Franklin wrinkled his brow. “I think so,” he replied. “Weren’t they dogs that the old-time shepherds used to protect their flocks, a few hundred years ago?”
“It happened until less than a hundred years ago. And ‘protect’ is an understatement with a vengeance. I’ve been looking at film records of sheep dogs in action, and no one who hadn’t seen them would believe some of the things they could do. Those dogs were so intelligent and so well-trained that they could make a flock of sheep do anything the shephered wanted, merely at a word of command from him. They could split a flock into sections, single out one solitary sheep from its fellows, or keep a flock motionless in one spot as long as their master ordered.
“Do you see what I am driving at? We’ve been training dogs for centuries, so such a performance doesn’t seem miraculous to us. What I am suggesting is that we repeat the pattern in the sea. We know that a good many marine mammals—seals and porpoises, for instance—are at least as intelligent as dogs, but except in circuses and places like Marineland there’s been no attempt to train them. You’ve seen the tricks our porpoises here can do, and you know how affectionate and friendly they are. When you’ve watched these old films of sheep-dog trials, you’ll agree that anything a dog could do a hundred years ago we can teach a porpoise to do today.”
“Just a minute,” said Franklin, a little overwhelmed. “Let me get this straight. Are you proposing that every warden should have a couple of—er—hounds working with him when he rounds up a school of whales?”
“For certain operations, yes. Of course, the technique would have limitations; no marine animal has the speed and range of a sub, and the hounds, as you’ve called them, couldn’t always get to the places where they were needed. But I’ve done some studies and I think it would be possible to double the effectiveness of our wardens in this way, by eliminating the times when they had to work in pairs or trios.”
“But,” protested Franklin, “what notice would whales take of porpoises? They’d ignore them completely.”
“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting that we should use porpoises; that was merely an example. You’re quite right—the whales wouldn’t even notice them. We’ll have to use an animal that’s fairly large, at least as intelligent as the porpoise, and which