ne of them had maintained itself at a reasonable level of
development, we'd have had help in working with the other. As it is,
there are only sixteen of us." He shook his head. "Why did the knowledge
held by the original colonists melt away? How can an intelligent people
lose such basics as the smelting of iron, gunpowder, the use of coal as
a fuel?"

Plekhanov was heavy with condescension. "Roberts, you seem to have
entered upon this expedition with a lack of background. Consider. You
put down a hundred colonists, products of the most advanced culture.
Among these you have one or two who can possibly repair an I.B.M.
machine, but is there one who can smelt iron, or even locate the ore? We
have others who could design an automated textile factory, but do any
know how to weave a blanket on a hand loom?

"The first generation gets along well with the weapons and equipment
brought with them from Earth. They maintain the old ways. The second
generation follows along but already ammunition for the weapons runs
short, the machinery imported from Earth needs parts. There is no local
economy that can provide such things. The third generation begins to
think of Earth as a legend and the methods necessary to survive on the
new planet conflict with those the first settlers imported. By the
fourth generation, Earth is no longer a legend but a fable ..."

"But the books, the tapes, the films ..." Roberts injected.

"Go with the guns, the vehicles and the other things brought from Earth.
On a new planet there is no leisure class among the colonists. Each
works hard if the group is to survive. There is no time to write new
books, nor to copy the old, and the second and especially the third
generation are impatient of the time needed to learn to read, time that
should be spent in the fields or at the chase. The youth of an
industrial culture can spend twenty years and more achieving a basic
education before assuming adult responsibilities but no pioneer society
can afford to allow its offspring to so waste its time."

Natt Roberts was being stubborn. "But still, a few would carry the torch
of knowledge."

Plekhanov nodded ponderously. "For a while. But then comes the reaction
against these nonconformists, these crackpots who, by spending time at
books, fail to carry their share of the load. One day they wake up to
find themselves expelled from the group--if not knocked over the head."

* * * * *