The Gods Themselves
they expected us to understand. Could they be such fools as to send us rather intricate messages, in some cases quite lengthy, if they knew we would not understand? ... If it hadn't been for their diagrams, we would have ended nowhere. Now if they had expected us to understand, it could only be because they felt that any creatures like ourselves with a technology roughly as advanced as their own (and they must have been able to estimate that somehow—another point in favor of my belief) must also be roughly as intelligent as themselves and would experience little difficulty in working out something from the symbols."
    "That might also be just their naïveté," said Bronowski, unimpressed.
    "You mean they think there is only one language, spoken and written, and that another intelligence in another Universe speaks and writes as they do? Come on!"
    Bronowski said, "Even if I were to grant your point, what do you want me to do? I've looked at the para-symbols; I suppose every archaeologist and philologist on Earth has. I don't see what I can do; neither, I'm sure, does anyone else. In over twenty years, no progress has been made."
    Lament said, intensely, "What's true is that in twenty years, there has been no desire for progress. The Pump Authority does not want to solve the symbols."
    "Why shouldn't they want to?"
    "Because of the annoying possibility that communication with the para-men w ill show them to be distinctly more intelligent. Because that would show human beings to be the puppet-partners in connection with the Pump to the hurt of their ego. And, specifically," (and Lament strove to keep venom out of his voice) "because Hallam would lose the credit for being the Father of the Electron Pump."
    "Suppose they did want to make progress. What could be done? The will is not the deed, you know."
    "They could get the para-men to cooperate. They could send messages to the para-Universe. This has never been done, but it could be. A message on metal foil might be placed under a pellet of tungsten."
    "Oh? Are they still looking for new samples of tungsten, even with Pumps in operation?"
    "No, but they'll notice the tungsten and they'll assume we're trying to use it to attract their attention. We might even place the message on tungsten foil itself. If they take the message and make any sense of it at all, even the slightest, they'll send back one of their own, incorporating their findings. They might set up an equivalence table, of their words and ours, or they might use a mixture of their words and ours. It will be a kind of alternate push, first on their side, then on ours, then on theirs, and so on."
    "With their side," said Bronowski, "doing most of the work."
    "Yes."
    Bronowski shook his head. "No fun in that, is there? It doesn't appeal to me."
    Lament looked at him with flaring anger. "Why not? Don't you think there'll be enough credit in it for you? Not enough fame? What are you, a connoisseur of fame? What kind of fame did you get out of the Etruscan inscriptions, damn it. You beat out five others in the world. Maybe six. With them you're a household word and a success and they hate you. What else? You go about lecturing on the subject before audiences amounting to a few dozen and they forget your name the day after. Is that what you're really after?"
    "Don't be dramatic."
    "All right. I won't be. I'll get someone else. It may take longer but, as you say, the para-men will do most of the work anyway. If necessary, I'll do it myself."
    "Have you been assigned this project?"
    "No, I haven't. What of it? Or is that another reason you don't want to get involved. Disciplinary problems? There is no law against attempting translation and I can always place tungsten on my desk. I will not choose to report any messages I get in place of the tungsten and to that extent I will be breaking the research-code. Once the translation is made, who will complain? Would you work with me if I guaranteed your safety and kept your part in it
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