Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced Science Fiction Stories 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
It's well established now that the way you put a questionoften determines not only the answer you'll get, but thetype of answer possible. So ... a mechanical answerer,geared to produce the ultimate revelations in reference toanything you want to know, might have unsuspectedlimitations.
Ask A Foolish Question
by ROBERT SHECKLEY
nswerer was built to last as long as was necessary—which was quitelong, as some races judge time, and not long at all, according toothers. But to Answerer, it was just long enough.
As to size, Answerer was large to some and small to others. He couldbe viewed as complex, although some believed that he was really verysimple.
Answerer knew that he was as he should be. Above and beyond all else,he was The Answerer. He Knew.
Of the race that built him, the less said the better. They also Knew,and never said whether they found the knowledge pleasant.
They built Answerer as a service to less-sophisticated races, anddeparted in a unique manner. Where they went only Answerer knows.
Because Answerer knows everything.
Upon his planet, circling his sun, Answerer sat. Duration continued,long, as some judge duration, short as others judge it. But as itshould be, to Answerer.
Within him were the Answers. He knew the nature of things, and whythings are as they are, and what they are, and what it all means.
Answerer could answer anything, provided it was a legitimate question.And he wanted to! He was eager to!
How else should an Answerer be?
What else should an Answerer do?
So he waited for creatures to come and ask.
"How do you feel, sir?" Morran asked, floating gently over to the oldman.
"Better," Lingman said, trying to smile. No-weight was a vast relief.Even though Morran had expended an enormous amount of fuel, gettinginto space under minimum acceleration, Lingman's feeble heart hadn'tliked it. Lingman's heart had balked and sulked, pounded angrilyagainst the brittle rib-case, hesitated and sped up. It seemed for atime as though Lingman's heart was going to stop, out of sheer pique.
But no-weight was a vast relief, and the feeble heart was going again.
Morran had no such problems. His strong body was built for strain andstress. He wouldn't experience them on this trip, not if he expectedold Lingman to live.
"I'm going to live," Lingman muttered, in answer to the unspokenquestion. "Long enough to find out." Morran touched the controls, andthe ship slipped into sub-space like an eel into oil.
"We'll find out," Morran murmured. He helped the old man unstraphimself. "We're going to find the Answerer!"
Lingman nodded at his young partner. They had been reassuringthemselves for years. Originally it had been Lingman's project. ThenMorran, graduating from Cal Tech, had joined him. Together they hadtraced the rumors across the solar system