Unspecialist

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding ScienceFiction, October, 1959. Extensive research did not reveal any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Dialectspellings, contractions and discrepancies have been retained.

  UNSPECIALIST

  _A machine can be built to do any accurately described job betterthan any man. The superiority of a man is that he can do an unexpected,undescribed, and emergency job ... provided he hasn't been especiallytrained to be a machine._

  BY MURRAY F. YACO

  Banner ripped open his orders, read them, stared in disbelief for aquick moment, then cursed wildly while reaching for the telephone.

  "Hello, Gastonia? Yes, I got 'em. What kinda way to waste our time youlunkheads think ... oh, it's you, colonel!"

  Banner dropped the receiver and let it dangle. He sank into the onlysoft chair in the apartment and watched hypnotically as the phone'sreceiver limply coiled and uncoiled at the end of the wire.

  Somebody knocked on, then opened the door. "Hi, pretty boy, you got ourorders?"

  "Come on in and hear about it," Banner said. He got up from the chair,ran his hands compulsively through his recently short-cropped red hair,hung up the phone and shoved the orders into his co-pilot's hands.

  Warcraft read them over three times, then sank into the chair justvacated by Banner. Finally--while Banner poured them both a drink--hemanaged to blurt, "Potato fertilizer and tractor fuel--Oh, no. Oh, no,no, no!"

  "Oh, yes, yes, yes," Banner said bitterly. "We are heroes of thespaceways; yes, indeed. We train for ten years. Acquire great skill inthe art of the patrol. We dedicate ourselves to the protection of theFederation. We ready ourselves for war. We gird our young, strongloins, we--"

  "You're getting hysterical," said Warcraft, who poured himself anotherdrink, began pacing the floor and took up where Banner had left off."We've never even been lost on patrol. And now they do this. It'sunbelievable! Potato fertilizer and tractor fuel. We're supposed totravel thirty-six light-years, pick up one thousand sleds of the stuff,deliver it to some God-forsaken farm planet another thirty years out,and return to base. You know what they'll do then?" He turned toBanner, pointed his finger accusingly and repeated, "You know whatthey'll do then?"

  "How would I know," said Banner, glumly staring into his drink.

  "Well, I can tell you what they'll do. Yes, sir, I can tell you."Warcraft's pudgy face and oversize brown eyes seemed to melt into eachother, giving him the appearance of an angry, if not very bright,chimpanzee.

  "O.K., what'll they do?" Banner said.

  "They'll give us medals. That's what they'll do. For safe delivery ofone million tons of tractor fuel, you two fine specimens of manhood arehereby presented with the Order of the Oil. And for your courageousservice in delivering two million tons of potato fertilizer, you arealso awarded the shield of--"

  "Never mind," Banner said. "It could be worse. They could've saddled uswith a Bean Brain. Come on. Let's go to some bar and get sober. We'releaving for freight duty at 1700."

  * * * * *

  The Bean Brain met them at the air lock. "Name is Arnold. Here's myorders." Banner stared at Warcraft, Warcraft stared at Arnold.

  "Get inside," said Banner.

  The Bean Brain smiled, "Er ... could you sort of lead the way? I'venever been inside a ship before. If you got some kind of can, it wouldsave a mess. I'll probably vomit a while."

  They stopped calling him Bean Brain three days later. He was stillsick, miserably spacesick, and neither Banner nor Warcraft had theheart to keep needling him. On the fourth day he managed to get up andaround. They ate their first meal together that day. "Let's getsomething straight right off the bat," Banner said. "Neither Warcraftnor I got anything against you 'cept prejudice. That right, Warcraft?"

  "Right," Warcraft said.

  "In short," continued Banner, between puffs on a cigarette, "all weknow is what we've heard."

  "And that's not good," said Warcraft.

  "Item one," said Banner, blowing smoke at the ceiling ventilator."Patrol Command came up with the Bean Brain idea about six months ago.Patrol Command, in its infinite wisdom, has never seen fit to explain_why_ Bean Brains are sometimes assigned, evidently at random, tosmall patrol vessels such as this. The orders always state that the'passenger' will accompany pilot and co-pilot throughout the entiretrip, will obey orders, yet is equal in rank to the ship's commandingofficer. The Bean Brain has no duties aboard. This seems to make sense,at least, since Bean Brains aren't trained for anything and can't doanything."

  "Item two," said Banner, taking his eyes off the ceiling and pointing afinger at Arnold. "I have, or had, two good friends--both patrolcaptains--who had the honor of taxiing Bean Brains around the universe.One never came back. The other, Captain Slatkin, came back and got abig medal for reasons he'll never talk about."

  "And Slatkin liked to brag," said Warcraft, knowingly.

  Arnold stood up slowly. He was a small man, but as he looked up at theship's pilot and co-pilot, he gave both the impression of height andstrength. "I'll tell you something, too," he said, speaking slowly asif in pain. "I don't know why Bean Brains are assigned to ships likethis either. I've never been told. I took the job because I didn't likewhat I was doing before. I've never had any real training, and thisseemed like a chance to do something that sounded like fun.

  "Like I said, I've never been told anything. They tested me for a lotof things, then gave me my orders and told me to come along. And ifyou're wondering, I flunked the ESP tests, so there's nothing there.You want to consider me dead weight? O.K., your privilege. Leave mealone if you want to, I'll do the same. Be friendly, I'll be friendly.Ask me to help. I'll do my best."

  Then he got up and went back to his bunk.

  * * * * *

  During the next six weeks, Arnold spent most of the time in his bunk,scanning tapes from the ship's micro-library on an overhead viewer. Atmeal times he was polite, offering no further information abouthimself, yet entering into any conversation that centered around suchtrivia as terrestrial sports, taxes, money, liquor, food, governmentagencies. By mutual, if silent, agreement, neither women nor work werediscussed.

  Working in the ship's control room, sometimes together, sometimesspelling each other, Banner and Warcraft speculated bitterly andendlessly about their passenger. Theories to explain his presence--mostof them propounded by Warcraft--were created, torn apart, modified,exploded, in giant sequences of effort which left both men finallyexhausted and tired of the whole business.

  On the second day of the seventh week out, their ennui vanished. A shipwas picked up by the spec-spanner, and at their delight at the break inroutine, they summoned Arnold up to the cabin.

  "Take a good look," said Banner, "it's an Ankorbadian ship. Probablythe first and last you'll ever see." Arnold watched as Banner's fingertracked a slowly moving point of light across a recessed ceilingscreen.

  "Yes, sir," said Warcraft, "you are looking at the representatives ofmankind's only sibling. The noble Ankorbades." Then he recited in asingsong voice:

  "A simple race the Ankorbades They wear no clothes and live in caves But out in space they do in minutes What our ships do at speeds infinite."

  "Cultural paranoia," added Warcraft.

  "Huh?"

  "I mean just what I said. You and a million others recite that ditty,or variations of it every day of the week. It all adds up to the factthat the world is full of small-egged animals who for ten years havedone nothing but just
scream that we're about to be attacked by thesavage Ankorbades."

  "_Tch, tch_," said Banner, "treason, my lieutenant, treason. Of you Ihad expected at least a show of chauvinism."

  "Stop _tch-tch_ing me," Warcraft said irritably. "You've known how Ifelt about this mess for a long time."

  "Yes, indeed," said Banner, yawning, "ever since you took thatmicro-course in culturology you have insights into the situation deniedto the rest of the race."

  "Anyway," Warcraft said, making a small