Illustrated by Kramer
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Astounding Science-Fiction, January 1946.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Ara, the crow, was aware of the fact that he was a crow. This and thisalone made him different from his fellow crows. Because he recognizedthe fact, it made him aware of the things that separated the crows fromthe pheasants that abounded across the meadow—and he admired theirfine plumage and elegant ways.
He began to scorn the idea of being a crow, and resented the attitudeof his fellows. They were satisfied to be crows, and could notunderstand his resentment nor his desires, and they even scorned theidea that he was above them because he wanted to be other than a crow.In fact, they did not even understand his concept of being anythingelse. They did not look up to him for thinking over their heads.
He should have left them and made his way alone. But he wanted toshow them how much more he was than they, and so he decked himself inthe plumage of one of the pheasants and then started to lord it overthe rest of the crows....
—ÆSOP
Wanniston fixed the other man with a piercing gaze. "Sorry," he said."Quite sorry. But it can not be done that way, you know. The wholeproposition was your idea."
"I know," said the other man. He inspected Wanniston's large,well-proportioned frame, his strong features, and his absolute poiseand wondered how any man, with all to recommend him, could be soutterly unsympathetic. The coldness in his face set him apart fromone of the Galactic Ones. "The proposition was sensible enough—yet Ifailed. Even though I failed, my manipulations were properly done, youwill agree."
Wanniston nodded.
"Where did I fail?"
"You struck a snag."
"It was not my fault."
"Are you crawling?" snapped Wanniston.
"Perhaps," said the other man bitterly. "I want to know how I failed."
Wanniston smiled deprecatorily. "Lincoln, you failed because youneglected to take everything into account. Before you succeed—beforeyou can hope to plan without failure, you must learn to take everythinginto account."
"One cannot take everything into account."
"Yes, one can. It is quite possible—if you know how."
"Everything's easy," said Lincoln sourly, "once you know how."
"Certainly," laughed Wanniston.
"And because I made a mistake, I failed."
"Had you taken everything into account, you would have known that youcould never succeed. You wouldn't have started, and now you wouldn't bea complete and broken failure."
"You may well gloat."
"I'm not gloating."
"I believe that," admitted Lincoln. "But that changes nothing."
"You understand our position, Lincoln. If we prevented you from trying,well, you might have succeeded, and we'd never know the benefits ofyour success. It was your idea, and you wanted to try. But don't feeltoo broken. Others have tried."
"Small consolation. Knowing that another man is starving will not putfood in my belly." Lincoln stood up, dusted off his jacket, and leftthe office.
The report of a pistol echoed and re-echoed up and down the corridor,reverberating and hushing until it could be mistaken for a wild cackleof laughter.
Wanniston went into the small office beside his own, through aninterconnecting door. The key to the outer door hung in the lock by thetongue, and the office was a sharp contrast to his spotless businessoffice. Here was no clean desk, no bookcase bulging with