The Duplicators

wood that most bewildered Link. No two pieces of wood are ever exactly alike. It can’t happen. But here it had.

“This knife is duplied from that,” said Thana. “This one is duplied. That one isn’t. The unduplied one is better. It’s sharper and stays sharper. Its edge doesn’t turn. I…” She hesitated a moment. “I’ve been wondering if it isn’t something like a stew. Maybe the unduplied knife has something in it like salt, that’s been left out of the duplied one. Maybe we didn’t give it something it needs, like salt. Could that be so?”

Link gaped at her. She didn’t looked troubled now. She looked appealing and anxious and—when she didn’t look troubled she was a very pretty girl. He noticed that even in this moment of astonishment. Because he began to make a very wild guess at what might explain human society on Sord Three.

His limited experience with it was baffling. From the moment when he sat on the exit port threshold of the Glamorgan and chatted with an invisible conversationalist, to the moment he’d been told regretfully by Harl that he’d have to be hanged because of a speech he’d made about a barber, every single happening had confused him. It seemed that beer was currency. It seemed that a fifty-foot-square garden somehow supplied food for an entire village, though its plants seemed quite ordinary. Right now, dazedly surveying the whole experience, he recalled that there was no highway leading to the village. No road. It was not irrelevant. It fitted into the preposterous entire pattern.

“Wait a minute!” said Link, astounded and still unbelieving. “When you duply something you… furnish a sample and the material for it to something and it… duplicates the sample?”

“Of course,” said Thana. Her forehead wrinkled a little as she watched his expression. “I want to know if the reason some duplied things aren’t as good as unduplied ones is that we leave something out of the material we give the duplier to duply unduplied things with.”

His expression did not satisfy her.

“Of course if the sample is poor, the duplied thing will be poor quality too. That’s why our cloth is so weak. The samples are all old and brittle and weak. So duplied cloth is brittle and weak too. But,” she asked unbelievingly, “don’t you have dupliers where you come from?”

Link swallowed. If what Thana said was true—if it was true—an enormous number of things fell into place, including Thistlethwaite’s scornful conviction that wealth in carynths was garbage compared with the wealth that could be had from one trading voyage to Sord Three. If what Thana said was true, that was true, too. But there were other consequences. If dupliers were exported from Sord Three, the civilization of the galaxy could collapse. There was no commerce, no business on Sord Three. Naturally! Why should anybody manufacture or grow anything if raw material could be supplied and an existent specimen exactly reproduced. What price riches, manufactures, crops,… civilization itself? What price anything?

Here, the price was manners. If someone admired something you owned, you gave it to him, it or a duplied, microscopically accurate replica. Or maybe you kept the replica and gave him the original. It didn’t matter. They’d be the same! But the rest of the galaxy wouldn’t find it easy to practice manners, after scores of thousands of years of rude and uncouth habits.

“Don’t they have dupliers where you come from?” repeated Thana. She was astonished at the very idea.

“N-no,” said Link, dry-throated. “N-no, we d-don’t.”

“But you poor things!” said Thana commiseratingly. “How do you live?”

For the first time in his life, Link was actually terrified. He said the first thing that came into his mind.

“We don’t,” he said thinly. “At least, we won’t live long after we get dupliers!”

Chapter 5

There was movement in the great hall next door, but Thana paid no attention. She put one knife back on the shelf from which she’d taken it. She began to show Link the collection of small rocks and stones she’d accumulated.

“Here’s a piece of rock we call bog-iron,” she said absorbedly. “It has iron in it. Put this rock, with some wood, in the duplier, and a sample knife for it to duply, and the duplier takes iron out of the bog-iron and wood out of the wood and makes another knife. Of course the rock crumbles because part of it has been taken away. So does the wood, for the same reason. But then we have another knife. Only it’s only so good. So I thought that if an unduplied knife has something besides iron in it, like a stew has salt, maybe if I found the right kind of rock the duplier would take something out of it, and if it was the right kind of… of whatever-it-is, the duplied knife would be as good as the original because it had everything in it the original knife had.”

“Yes,” said Link, still dizzy. “It would. It should. If you get the right kind of rock.”

“Do you know what kind that would be?” asked Thana eagerly. “Can you show me the right kind?”

Link shook his head.

“Not I,” he said wryly. “It’s a special profession to know what rocks are ores and which aren’t. Some of these rocks I do recognize. That blue one may have copper in it. I’ve seen it but I’m not sure. This pink one I know. I spent months digging it out in mountain-size masses, looking for a place where a meteor might have struck it on a world where they used to have severe meteor-showers. But the rest, no.”

She looked distressed.

“Then there’s not much use in having guessed something right, is there? When you go away in your spaceship could you send somebody back who does know about rocks? We might even have lectric again!”

“I’m supposed to be hung,” said Link more wryly still. “And even if I could, I don’t think I’d do it. Because he’d go away again and tell the outside worlds that you have dupliers on Sord Three. And men would come here to take them away from you. They’d rob you at least, more likely murder you to get your dupliers and then they’d take them and destroy themselves.”

He made a rather absurd gesture. When one had been raised in a galaxy where every world has its own government, but they are so far apart that they can’t fight each other, patriotism as loyalty to a given place or planet tends to die out. It has no function. It serves no purpose. But Link knew now that when men no longer cherished small nations, whether they knew it or not they were loyal to mankind. And dupliers released to mankind would amount to treason.

If there can be a device which performs every sort of work a world wants done, then those who first have that instrument are rich beyond the dreams of anything but pride. But pride will make riches a drug upon the market. Men will no longer work, because there is no need for their work. Men will starve because there is no longer any need to provide them with food. There will be no way to earn necessities. One can only take them. And presently nobody will attempt to provide them to be taken.

Thana said interestedly, “There are stories about the fighting back on Surheil Two before our ancestors ran away. Everybody was trying to kill them because they had dupliers. They had to flee. It seems ridiculous, but they did run away, in spaceships, and they came here. There were only a few hundreds of them. The uffts made quite a fuss about their setting up Households, but the men had beer and the uffts couldn’t make it. They had no hands. So things got straightened out in time. But for a long, long while it was believed that nobody from any other world must ever be allowed to land here. I’m glad you landed, though.”

“To be hanged,” said Link.

But he understood the history of Sord Three better than she did. He could imagine the Economic Wars on Surheil Two, after the ancestors of Thana had fled. There were dupliers that weren’t taken away by the fugitives. A few. So men fought to possess them, and other men fought to take them away, and ultimately they’d be destroyed by men who couldn’t defend them. And then there’d be wholesale murder for food, and brigandage for what scraps were left. And at last civilization would have to start all over again with starving people and unplanted fields for a beginning. But no dupliers.

Here the disaster had taken a different form. While dupliers worked there was no need to learn useful things, such as the mechanical arts, and chemistry, and mineralogy. So such knowledge was forgotten. The art of weaving would vanish, too, when dupliers could make cloth to any demand. The composition of alloys. Electrical apparatus could not work without rare metals nobody knew how to find for the dupliers. So when the original units wore out there was no more electricity. And all cloth grows old and yellow and brittle, so old cloth, duplied, merely meant more old cloth, and alloy steel objects could not be reproduced, but only duplied, without the alloying materials, so