The Deep Range - Arthur C. Clarke [83]
“About a hundred years ago an Irish poet named Lord Dunsany wrote a play called The Use of Man, which you’ll be seeing on one of our TV programs before long. In it a man dreams that he’s magically transported out of the solar system to appear before a tribunal of animals—and if he cannot find two to speak on his behalf, the human race is doomed. Only the dog will come forward to fawn over his master; all the others remember their old grievances and maintain that they would have been better off if man had never existed. The sentence of annihilation is about to be pronounced when another sponsor arrives in the nick of time, and humanity is saved. The only other creature who has any use for man is—the mosquito.
“Now you may think that this is merely an amusing jest; so, I am sure, did Dunsany—who happened to be a keen hunter. But poets often speak hidden truth of which they themselves are unaware, and I believe that this almost forgotten play contains an allegory of profound importance to the human race.
“Within a century or so, Franklin, we will literally be going outside the solar system. Sooner or later we will meet types of intelligent life much higher than our own, yet in forms completely alien. And when that time comes, the treatment man receives from his superiors may well depend upon the way he has behaved toward the other creatures of his own world.”
The words were spoken so quietly, yet with such conviction, that they struck a sudden chill into Franklin’s soul. For the first time he felt that there might be something in the other’s point of view—something, that is, besides mere humanitarianism. (But could humanitarianism ever be “mere”?) He had never liked the final climax of his work, for he had long ago developed a great affection for his monstrous charges, but he had always regarded it as a regrettable necessity.
“I grant that your points are well made,” he admitted, “but whether we like them or nor, we have to accept the realities of life. I don’t know who coined the phrase ‘Nature red in tooth and claw,’ but that’s the way she is. And if the world has to choose between food and ethics, I know which will win.”
The Thero gave that secret, gentle smile which, consciously or otherwise, seemed to echo the benign gaze that so many generations of artists had made the hallmark of the Buddha.
“But that is just the point, my dear Franklin,” he answered. “There is no longer any need for a choice. Ours is the first generation in the world’s history that can break the ancient cycle, and eat what it pleases without spilling the blood of innocent creatures. I am sincerely grateful to you for helping to show me how.”
“Me!” exploded Franklin.
“Exactly,” said the Thero, the extent of his smile now far exceeding the canons of Buddhist art. “And now, if you will excuse me, I think I’ll go to sleep.”
CHAPTER XXI
“SO THIS,” GRUMBLED Franklin, “is my reward for twenty years of devoted public service—to be regarded even by my own family as a blood-stained butcher.”
“But all that was true, wasn’t it?” said Anne, pointing to the TV screen, which a few seconds ago had been dripping with gore.
“Of course it was. But it was also very cleverly edited propaganda. I could make out just as good a case for our side.”
“Are you sure of that?” asked Indra. “The division will certainly want you to, but it may not be easy.”
Franklin snorted indignantly.
“Why, those statistics are all nonsense! The very idea of switching our entire herds to milking instead of slaughtering is just crazy. If we converted all our resources to whalemilk production we couldn’t make up a quarter of the loss of fats and protein involved in closing down the processing plants.”
“Now, Walter,” said Indra placidly, “there’s no need to break a blood vessel trying to keep calm. What’s really upset you is the suggestion that the plankton farms should be extended to make up the deficit.”
“Well, you’re the biologist. Is it practical to turn that pea soup into prime ribs of beef or T-bone steaks?”
“It’s obviously possible. It was a very clever move, having