It wasn't that Texicans believed strictly in the survival of the fittest. Life was, perhaps, more sacred to Texicans than to any bleeding heart who moaned, back in the distant past, about the sanctity of the life of an unborn fetus. In all of Texas history there had never been an execution. But each Texican, while he was just a mixture of chemicals and a few cells in his mother's womb, was scanned and probed and if he didn't measure up, he didn't exist, for all you had to do was look at the pictures the spy ships brought back from the galaxy to see the sorry state of the race when breeding was indiscriminate and uncontrolled and people were allowed to be born with twisted limbs and damaged minds to be loved and pampered and revered as sacred life.
"They'll call you a fascist," said Professor Emily Lancing, a specialist in galactic civilization. "That is an antique name going back about six hundred plus years. They might even compare you to a man called Hitler, who believed that his nation was peopled by a super-race, that they were superior to all other peoples of Earth. This Hitler, among other things, tried to exterminate an entire religious sect by starvation and murder. Your answer to this, should you care to make an answer, is that you have not, nor has any Texican or group of Texicans, tried to exterminate anyone. But you don't want to appear too peaceful. We've deliberately left in your mind the facts concerning a certain incident in Cassiopeian space when we sent in a small fleet to pull out that prospector who was taken by the Cassiopeians. We want them to know that only a dozen Texican ships were involved, that the ships of the Cassiopeians were wasted not by the Empire but by Texas and that the incident precipitated the battle of Wolfs Star. How much do you know about the Darlene space rifle?"
"Not much," Lex admitted, having a hard time concentrating on what she was saying because she was just in her late thirties, had glorious black hair and a Texas girl's body which seemed intent on bursting the seams of her costume. "I know that once it's trained on something there's no doubt about the outcome. Are you saying that we used the Darlene against the Cassiopeians twenty years ago?"
"We had to knock out five Cassiopeians swiftly to rescue the prospector. Five rounds from a Darlene. They thought it was an entire Empire battle fleet. Briefly, the Darlene sounds somewhat like an anachronism, because it fires a projectile. Empire and Cassiopeian weapons are based on rays or beams, but the projectile fired by the Darlene space rifle is something more than just a bullet. It's about a yard long and a third as thick and it contains not only a blink generator but other goodies which, once it's locked onto the target, guide it through any maneuvers the target can make, including blinking. There's no defense against it. Our people have worked on a defense, just so we'd have it, but the mechanics are just too much for us. We want them to know about it, so if they question you, you can tell what I've told you."
"If we've got something like that why do we take any guff off them?"
She smiled and crossed a shapely leg. Lex felt his mouth go dry. "Because it takes metals and it takes a long time and a lot of expensive hardware to fit a ship with a Darlene. We couldn't take on the whole Empire fleet, for example." As if she knew he was enjoying the view, she let her skirt slip upward to reveal a length of beautifully suntanned thigh. "But let's get back to philosophy. They'll question you, that's for sure. And I'd like—that is, we'd like, for you to admit that you're not unusual among Texicans. Oh, I know you can out-wrestle most, probably, but let modesty guide you. You tell them you're just a little below average in height and size—"
"I'm tall enough."
"Sure, honey," she said, smiling, "I know that. But they don't. Look, it all goes back to Darwinism. You know Darwin?"
"Evolution and all that?"
"That's right. Survival of the fittest, to put it simply. In its raw form, in nature, that meant eat or be eaten. The strongest, the smartest survived. The weak ones were selected out. Whole species of life on the old Earth were wiped out because they couldn't adapt to new conditions. Now our theory is, from our limited knowledge of the Empire, that they've very well eliminated natural selection from the human race. You saw them. What was your impression?"
"Well, they were sort of scrungy," he said. He wrinkled his brow, thinking. "I mean, they were sorta runty—"
"The natural trend of the race is toward greater height," she said. "It began centuries ago on Earth. Better foods, better health care, all contributed to making the race larger. If you've seen pictures of the armor worn back in the middle ages of the Christian Era on Earth you've noticed, I imagine, that the armor would be too small for a Texican twelve-year-old."
"Yeah."
"The closely packed civilizations of the galaxy have reversed that trend in recent centuries. Studies seem
to prove that the race there is shrinking, while here on Texas, people get taller and taller and healthier and healthier. Back on Earth, before the blink drive, there was a halfhearted effort to limit breeding, but that effort ended when an endless supply of worlds was opened up by the drive. Settlement was rapid and indiscriminate. Planetary conditions were sometimes unfavorable. Microorganisms on the new worlds opened up a whole new pack of ills in the form of disease and parasitic debilities. Food was sometimes inadequate. Although Empire medical science is probably more developed than ours, they waste a lot of time and materials treating people who were born defective. Indiscriminate breeding, unlimited, fills worlds with people who were slightly disadvantaged at birth. You're going to find that you're a man among children as far as physical strength is concerned. Oh, they're not all midgets, but you'll stand out in a crowd. They'll notice you and they'll ask questions. When you say you're the result of selective breeding, they'll call you a murderer and other things, but you can say that no living thing was killed because of you, that you were scanned when you were a mere union of egg and sperm and found to be normal, that's all. You can say that there's no abortion, except therapeutic, lifesaving emergency abortion, on this planet, and you'll be telling the truth. Defective cell-sperm unions simply are not allowed to become attached to the wall of the uterus."
"They mess with me," Lex said, "I'll tell them where they can go."
"Don't go in with that attitude, boy," she said. Lex bristled at being called boy with half of her thigh staring at him. "You don't have to take any shit off them, but don't look for trouble. We're doing our best to prepare you to answer their questions in a way which won't unduly antagonize them, which will make things easier for you. You try to fight all of them and you'll never come back."
"Well," Lex said, cooling off. He thought about it. It made sense. Not even a Texican could take on the whole Empire single-handed. He listened with respect as she continued to talk about a number of things. He tried to remember all of it, but his mind was elsewhere. They were alone in the house. She was a beautiful woman.
At midday they ordered from the cook robot and ate, still talking, on the balcony overlooking the wide expanse of the ranch. The conversation was informal, in a light vein. He was telling her about his impressions of the Empire, as he'd seen it on Polaris Two. When she began to ask questions about Empire women, he blushed and became tongue-tied. But he got out a little bit about their manner of dressing and, surprisingly, about how they seemed to think and feel that sex was just a plaything. Talking about sex with a pretty girl did things to him and he fell silent.
"You've had no opportunity to go courting, have you?" she asked, looking at him with dark brown eyes full of sympathy.
"Too young," Lex said.
"I'm so sorry you'll miss that. It's one of the most exciting times in life."
"Yeah," he said. "I guess you're married, huh?"
"Yes." She looked off into the distance. The sky was full of white clouds with thunderheads forming to the north. It would rain. "At least I was."
He waited, quiet, not even chewing the bite he had in his mouth. After a long time she said, "He was killed, you know."
"No, I didn't know," Lex said. "Gee, I'm sorry."
"They were looking for metallic deposits in the shallows off the east coast. He was in a diver at three thousand feet when the undersea quake came. They say he probably lived for hours there under the tons of mud and rock which fell on the machine."
Lex couldn't swallow. His throat was dry. He coughed and tried to think of words. She tossed her hair and smiled. "Well, let's not talk about that. I imagine you'll find a girl, out there in the Empire."
Lex thought of Gwyn and felt visceral twinges.
"And she'll make you forget all about Texas girls."
He shook his head. "I'll remember you," he said, surprised at his boldness. "I'll think of you and remember how Texas girls are big enough to be an armful, how they laugh, how they have that twinkle—' felt a huge lividness of face, a lump closed his throat. He turned away.
"You're very sweet," she said, and her smile would have melted a mile cube of polar ice.
In looking back, he would never remember how it was that he knew. But he knew. Inside, seated side by side on a wide, comfortable couch, he knew that if he had the nerve to kiss her she would not object. He did and she didn't.
"Damn, I'm sorry," he said, when their lips parted.
"Don't be."
He wasn't, really. The second kiss was longer.
"It isn't bad," she said, "because I want it too, you see? I want you to remember. I want you to think of me as Texas, all Texas girls, and the sky and the winds and all of it."
In a way it was bad, not evil bad, but bad for him, because, in her arms, feeling the natural slickness, the strength of her, the pushing and yearning and answering and a gale of pure emotion, he knew what he was going to miss. It was no disrespect when he thought of the girl in his school, the one with the short, curly hair of desert tan who smiled athim and let him kiss her,once , behind the trees in the park. He thought of how he'd determined then that he'd go looking for her when the time came, pit himself against the others who would be vying for her, win her. In his arms the teacher became that girl, all Texas girls, the girl he'd never court, the girl he'd never win, and it was a bittersweet victory when, together, they rode the tail of a comet down, down, down and then up to heights which, even with Gwyn, he'd never reached.
And because it was so beautiful, he lingered, close, joined, dampened by exertion and nature, and put his head down into the hollow of her shoulder and wept like a baby because, even if he didn't have to go out into the Empire, even if he could stay, it would never again be the same for him, because she was older and would choose again, a man of her own age, her own sort, not a seventeen-year-old boy not yet ready to go courting. She understood and didn't laugh at him because he cried and when he said, "Don't tell. Not ever. Not anyone," she kissed him atop his tousled head and soothed him.
"No, no, never."
He watched her as she dressed and felt a sense of the most devastating loss as she was, gradually,
systematically, covered, hidden from his eyes. He kissed her once more.
"Emily?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Thanks."
"You don't have to say that."
"Not for, well, not for—" He swallowed, suddenly shy, now that she was fully clothed. "I mean for letting me cry on your shoulder."
"You cried because it was beautiful," she said.
Well, that wasn't all of it, but he was grateful to her for saying it.