LET'S GET TOGETHER
By ISAAC ASIMOV
Illustrated by ENGLE
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity, February 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
A kind of peace had endured for a century and people had forgotten whatanything else was like. They would scarcely have known how to react hadthey discovered that a kind of war had finally come.
Certainly, Elias Lynn, Chief of the Bureau of Robotics, wasn't surehow he ought to react when he finally found out. The Bureau ofRobotics was headquartered in Cheyenne, in line with the century-oldtrend toward decentralization, and Lynn stared dubiously at the youngSecurity officer from Washington who had brought the news.
Elias Lynn was a large man, almost charmingly homely, with pale blueeyes that bulged a bit. Men weren't usually comfortable under the stareof those eyes, but the Security officer remained calm.
Lynn decided that his first reaction ought to be incredulity. Hell, itwas incredulity! He just didn't believe it!
He eased himself back in his chair and said, "How certain is theinformation?"
The Security officer, who had introduced himself as Ralph G.Breckenridge and had presented credentials to match, had the softnessof youth about him; full lips, plump cheeks that flushed easily,and guileless eyes. His clothing was out of line with Cheyenne butit suited a universally air-conditioned Washington, where Security,despite everything, was still centered.
Breckenridge flushed and said, "There's no doubt about it."
"You people know all about Them, I suppose," said Lynn and was unableto keep a trace of sarcasm out of his tone. He was not particularlyaware of his use of a slightly-stressed pronoun in his reference to theenemy, the equivalent of capitalization in print. It was a culturalhabit of this generation and the one preceding. No one said the "East,"or the "Reds" or the "Soviets" or the "Russians" any more. That wouldhave been too confusing, since some of Them weren't of the East,weren't Reds, Soviets, and especially not Russians. It was much simplerto say We and They, and much more precise.
Travelers had frequently reported that They did the same in reverse.Over there, They were "We" (in the appropriate language) and We were"They."
Scarcely anyone gave thought to such things any more. It was all quitecomfortable and casual. There was no hatred, even. At the beginning,it had been called a Cold War. Now it was only a game, almost agood-natured game, with unspoken rules and a kind of decency about it.
Lynn said, abruptly, "Why should They want to disturb the situation?"
He rose and stood staring at a wall-map of the world, split into tworegions with faint edgings of color. An irregular portion on the leftof the map was edged in a mild green. A smaller, but just as irregular,portion on the right of the map was bordered in a washed-out pink. Weand They.
The map hadn't changed much in a century. The loss of Formosa andthe gain of East Germany some eighty years before had been the lastterritorial switch of importance.
There had been another change, though, that was significant enough andthat was in the colors. Two generations before, Their territory hadbeen a brooding, bloody red, Ours a pure and undefiled white. Now therewas a neutrality about the colors. Lynn had seen Their maps and it wasthe same on Their side.
"They wouldn't do it," he said.
"They are doing it," said Breck