The Ultimate Inferior Beings (35 page)

By the end of the day,
Alistair was worn out, and hungry, and no nearer to saving his species from
starvation.

*

The next day saw the invention
of the axle.

“And what does this do?”
asked Alistair, eyeing the cylinder of wood suspiciously.

“It holds two wheels together
while, at the same time, keeping them apart.”

“And?”

“It stops them falling over
when they’re rolling down a hill.”

Alistair thought for a bit.
“Why couldn’t you just have a very thick wheel?” he asked. “That wouldn’t fall
over, either.”

“An axle’s much better,” said
the inventor, although he didn’t explain why.

“Er, I’ll let you know,” said
Alistair dismissing him.

Then, a little later, came a
Mamm who had invented the journal bearing. He brought with him what was
basically a plank of wood, resting on two axles each of which had a wheel at
either end. He called this object a ‘cart’.

“What’s this?” asked Alistair
curtly, twitching at the sight of not one, not two, but four wheels.

“It’s a cart,” said the Mamm.
“It...”

“No, no. Don’t tell me,”
interrupted Alistair. “Let me see if I can guess the purpose of this fine
contraption.” He pretended to examine it closely. “Ah, I’d hazard a guess that
it rolls down hills! Am I right?”

“Why, yes!” said the proud
inventor, clearly impressed. “But there’s more to it than that?”

“Is there really?”

“It seats up to four of us.
Two in the front and two in the back.”

“Hmm, how very useful,” said
Alistair, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

The inventor smiled at him.

“You can go now,” said
Alistair.

“Pardon?” asked the inventor,
not understanding.

“Get out of my sight.”

The inventor was still
confused.

“Quickly, please.”

The inventor shrugged and
sloped off, pushing his cart dejectedly before him.

*

That night, Alistair’s friend
Reginald came to see him. Now, although Reginald had evolved intelligence, he
perhaps hadn’t evolved it quite as fast as other Mamms.

“Hello, Reginald,” said
Alistair, pleased to see a familiar face. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, something’s been
bothering me for the past few days and I wanted to discuss it with you. Can you
spare a few moments?”

“Certainly, Reginald.”

“Thanks,” said Reginald. He
paused for a few seconds, trying to put his thoughts into words. “Well, as I
see it,” he started, “none of us have been eating for quite some time, now.”

“That’s correct,” said
Alistair, aware that ideas took a while to register with Reginald. But at least
Reginald had his finger on the pulse of the problem.

“Now, according to my
calculations, if we don’t start eating pretty soon, we’ll all starve to death.”

“Good,” said Alistair
encouragingly.

“And if we all starve to
death we, as a species, will become extinct.”

“Brilliant,” said Alistair,
trying to hide any traces of sarcasm in his voice.

“So we’ve got to start eating
soon.”

“I totally agree with you,”
said Alistair patiently.

“Yet there’s plenty of food
out there!”

“Yes, there is. There are
thousands of species out there that we can eat.”

“Well, what’s the problem,
then?” asked Reginald, suddenly excited. “Let’s go get them!”

“
That’s
the problem,
Reginald. All these thousands of species have learnt how to run away from us.”

“Hmm,” said Reginald
thoughtfully. “In that case, we have to stop them!”

“Good,” said Alistair with a
little sigh. “You may just be on the right track there.” Then he explained
about the Period of Deep Thought and how he was listening to suggestions from
other Mamms.

Reginald was keen to
contribute.

“So we need to think of a way
of stopping them,” Reginald was saying. “Some way to stop them. I know!” he
said suddenly. “A wall! That would stop them! Put a wall in their way and make
them run into it! That’s the answer.” He looked at Alistair expectantly.

Alistair paused, as though
considering the suggestion. “Hmm, perhaps you need to work on that idea a
little.” He said as tactfully as he could. “Come back when you have something a
little more concrete.”

“That’s it!” exclaimed
Reginald. “A concrete wall!”

“Go away,” said Alistair.
“Please. I need some sleep.”

So Reginald went away. But he
returned the next morning and stood casually near Alistair listening to the
ideas and inventions of the Mamms in the queue. He hoped, perhaps, to pick up a
few ideas himself.

*

About half way through the
day came an invention that would have a dramatic impact on future Mamm history.
Its inventor, whose name has now been lost, stepped forward and thrust out a
rectangular solid in front of Alistair’s face.

“Yes, what is it?” asked
Alistair amicably.

“It’s a brick,” said the
inventor.

“And what does this brick of
yours do?”

“Not much,” said the
newcomer, putting his brick on the ground. “It just sits there.”

Alistair watched the brick
just sitting there for a few seconds and, indeed, the brick didn’t seem to
exhibit any additional behaviour. He glanced from the brick to the inventor and
back again, at a loss for words.

“Er,” he said at last. “Does
it roll down hills?”

“No!” exclaimed the newcomer
vehemently, offended by the very suggestion. “I took great care when designing
it to prevent it doing just that. See those edges and those corners...?”

“Ah,” said Alistair, slightly
chastened.

“Here’s another one,” said
the inventor.

“There’s more?”

“Yes. This one goes on top of
the first. Like this.” The Mamm placed the second brick on top of the first.
“See?”

“Wonders never cease.”

“No,” agreed the proud
inventor.

“Next, please,” said
Alistair.

“But...”

“Next!”

The next Mamm stepped forward
holding a wheel.

“And the next, please,” said
Alistair.

“But Alistair,” said the
Mamm. “I’ve just invented the wheel.”

But Alistair was already
listening to the next Mamm.

“Hold on,” said Reginald,
suddenly stepping forward and prodding Alistair. “I think he may have had
something there!”

“Pardon?” asked Alistair, turning
to face him.

“I think he may have had
something there.”

“Yes, it was a wheel. I’ve
had it up to here with wheels.”

“No, no. Not that one,” said
Reginald. “The one before him. The one with the bricks.”

“What about him?”

“I think he could be on to something.”

“Such as?”

“Well,” said Reginald slowly.
“Did you notice the way he put that second brick on top of the first?”

“It didn’t entirely escape my
attention.”

“Good, I’m glad you spotted
it, too. Well, with even more bricks, laid side by side and on top of one
another, he would have a wall!”

“Amazing.”

“And we could use such a wall
to stop running animals!” said Reginald triumphantly.

“I see. We’re back to that
again, are we?”

“Yes.”

Alistair felt a bit of a
headache coming on. “Well, look. You go and try it and let me know how you get
on.”

“Alright.”

*

Reginald returned the next
day looking a trifle depressed.

Alistair was listening to a
Mamm who was explaining his theory of Relativity.

“Hello,” said Alistair.

Reginald merely gave a grunt.

The Relativity Mamm was in
full swing. “I’ve been thinking about the Universe and our place in it. It
seems to me that, philosophically speaking, it is nonsensical to assume the
existence of a unique and absolute inertial frame of reference.”

“Certainly,” said Alistair,
nodding. Then, in a whisper, he said to Reginald, “How’s the brick wall coming
along?”

“The obvious conclusion is
that the speed of light should be constant in
all
frames of reference.
When you think about this for a while, like I’ve been doing,...”

“Not very well,” whispered
Reginald back.

“...you realize the impact
this has on the concepts of time synchronization, distance measurement and even
simultaneity.”

“Sorry to hear that,”
whispered Alistair.

“The wall didn’t stop the
animals at all,” said Reginald. “They just ran around it, or away from it, or
even jumped over it!”

“I eventually arrived at a
set of transformation equations...”

“What it’s missing is the
element of surprise,” continued Reginald. “If we had some mechanism to make a
wall jump out of the ground just as an animal was approaching... it would run
straight into it and be stopped... dead.”

Alistair nodded
sympathetically. “We don’t have that kind of technology, yet,” he said.

They both turned to listen to
the remainder of the Mamm’s theory.

A long, long time later, the
Mamm finished.

“Well,” said Alistair,
relieved it was finally over. “That was, er, very different. If I find a use
for your theory, I’ll let you know. Thank you, and goodbye.”

The Mamm went off happily,
glad to have had such an attentive and appreciative audience. Personally, he
thought the theory was rubbish.

The next Mamm in the queue
stepped forward and handed Alistair a heavy, rectangular object.

“It’s not another brick, is
it?” he asked, suspiciously.

“No. It’s a book,” said the
Mamm.

“What does it do?”

“It teaches you to read and
write. That’s its title: ‘Teach Yourself to Read and Write’.” He pointed at
some squiggles on the cover. “Writing’s a brilliant invention – not mine but
Alphonse’s. You write things down so you don’t have to remember them. Stories,
letters, shopping lists.”

“Hmm,” said Alistair, not
slow to spot the potential of a good invention. “Sounds interesting. And this
book will teach me?”

“It’s so simple, a child
could read it.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try,”
said Alistair with a smile. He took the book and the Mamm went away happy.

“What do you make of that?”
Alistair asked his friend Reginald.

“A really good idea,” said
Reginald.

“Do you know,” said Alistair,
“I think I’ll go off and teach myself to read and write.” Then, speaking loudly
to the long line of Mamms before him, he announced, “Come back tomorrow.” He
slid off into the shade with his book as the line of Mamms dispersed with
various groans and mutterings.

Reginald followed him into
the shade.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said
slowly.

“What about?” asked Alistair,
opening his book at the first page. At least, he assumed it to be the first
page.

“The theory of Relativity.”

“Oh?” said Alistair without
looking up from his book.

“Yes. I think he had something
there. Especially that bit about relative motion.”

“Uh-huh?”

“You see, if I understood
correctly, the effect of a moving animal hitting a stationary brick wall is the
same as a moving brick wall hitting a stationary animal.”

“Except that,” pointed out Alistair,
“in the case where the animal is stationary, there’s no need to stop it moving.
As it is already not moving!”

“True. But I think you’re
missing the point,” said Reginald a little annoyed.

“Ah, of course. You must be
referring to mass increase, time dilation and distance contraction.”

Reginald gave Alistair a
strange look. “No,” he said. “Not exactly. You see, if you hit a stationary
animal with a brick wall it is going to remain stationary for a long time! It’s
never going to move again. Get it?”

“Hmm,” said Alistair
thoughtfully, though not entirely convinced. “Well look, you go and try it and
let me get on with this book.”

“Right-ho,” said Reginald,
turning and sliding off into the distance.

*

The next day, Alistair was
back listening to suggestions.

“And what have you invented?”
he asked as a Mamm holding a charred stick stepped forward.

“Fire,” said the Mamm,
holding up his stick.

“Fire?” asked Alistair,
looking at the stick. “Is that is?”