GAME PRESERVE

BY ROG PHILLIPS

The hunters were necessary, of
course—but there was the
other side of the picture too.

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


The first of the morons, as they were popularly called,though they were totally lacking in intelligence, were born in1971, eleven years after the Mutual Retaliation phase of thebig war-that-no-one-started, the majority of them near the big,bombed-out cities. By 1973, with the aid of the electron microscope,the scientists had learned all about it. Parents and offspring weresterilized and the offspring placed in state institutions. By 1983there were too many of them. A new solution to the impossible situationwas tried, large isolated areas in the south where the climate was mildwere made into preserves for them. In the wilds the morons bandedinto small herds that showed no inclination to roam. By 1985 no moreof the morons were being born, thanks to the sterilization of allparents carrying the contaminated gene. It was thought the problem waspermanently solved, through perfect cooperation between science, thegovernment, and the public. If the contamination had not been weededout of the race one fourth of every generation for all the future wouldhave been without any intelligence whatever.

But here and there had been natural births, unattended by a doctor;and parental love coupled with fear of being sterilized and thusdenied further parenthood had brought into existence a few thousandunsterilized morons, hidden away in attic rooms or in basements. Andto these parents the Preserves offered the logical solution too—driveinto the nearest Preserve and turn the child loose with its kind.Thus, a new generation came into being in the scattered herds, and by2010 A.D. a new problem had come into being. Thanks to impurities inthe moron strain or to wandering renegades—or both—a few normallyintelligent offspring were appearing in the herds. There was dangerof these recontaminating the race, if they left the herds, learned tospeak, wear clothes....

In 2010 the government attempted a mass sterilization of the herdsbut the herds were too wild by now, and the males too dangerous, sothe sterilization program was abandoned and a new plan substituted.The government Hunters came into being, small patrol groups whose jobwas to pick off the renegades and any members of the herds that wereintelligent.


"Hi-hi-hi!" Big One shouted, and heaved erect with the front end of It.

"Hi-hi-hi," Fat One and the dozen others echoed more mildly, liftingwherever they could get a hold on It.

It was lifted and borne forward in a half crouching trot.

"Hi-hi hi-hi-hihihi," Elf chanted, running and skipping alongside thepanting men and their massive burden.

It was carried forward through the lush grass for perhaps fifty feet.

"Ah-ah-ah," Big One sighed loudly, slowly letting the front end of Itdown until it dug into the soft black soil.

"Ahhh," Fat One and the others sighed, letting go and standing up,stretching aching back muscles, rubbing cramped hands.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah," Elf sang, running around and in between theresting men. He came too close to Big One and was sent sprawling by aquick, good humored push.

Everyone laughed, Big One laughing the loud

...

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