Manshape by John Brunner

the measure of their machines. Alida sighed and made a note by subvocalising to her personal computer.
    “What about Azrael, though?”
    “Well, we shan’t know until we get Chen’s report, shall we?”
    Bella Soong of the Adaptive Ecology Department leaned forward.
    “Chen? Jacob Chen? Is he on Azrael? They must have run into trouble if they sent for him!”
    It was on the tip of Alida’s tongue to ask why she hadn’t heard the news already. Then she recalled that it had been so long since any new colonised worlds were discovered that Bella had been on preretirement sabbatical. Only the unprecedented encounter with two aspirant worlds at once had led to her being recalled because her deputy was still incompletely qualified.
    She said, “The captain of the scoutship asked for him. Her regular pantologist had handled the Bridge programme okay, but when it came to the cultural analysis he couldn’t cope.”
    “In that case I think we should proceed with at least the preliminary arrangements for an Azrael section in Bridge City,” Bella said. “Knowing Jacob as I do, I assume we’ll have his results before we’re ready to digest them if we don’t make some sort of preparations.”
    Alida gazed down into the table, thinking of the clash of cultures, the different dialects, the weird mores—the religions, even, archaic though that notion was—which the existence of the Bridge System had wished on fat, lazy, complacent Earth. Now and then within Bridge City there were even fights, invariably due to misunderstanding, invariably apologised for… but sometimes there were injuries, and there had even been a death or two since she took office, and of those she was peculiarly ashamed.
    She slapped the table-top, open-palmed.
    “No, we dare not raise people’s expectations ahead of time. I grant that Jacob Chen’s a genius, but if they had to send for him that implies they found something exceptionally difficult. Ipewell looks like a good plain case, so we can carry on with that one. Later on I’ll have a word with Moses van Heemskirk and reportback. Now what else… ?” She scanned the model; the reddest star remaining was over the Riger’s World zone, and it was coded for Laverne, the psychologist in charge of mores adjustment, a too-clever man with an insincere smile which he wore even in bed.
    Why was she becoming so cynical? Alida shivered. The machines disagreed with her, and certainly since being appointed he had run his department as efficiently as could be wished. She repressed her momentary distaste.
    “Laverne! You have a headache, apparently?”
    The metaphor provoked his smile, as usual. “Yes, a preacher from Riger’s, name of Rungley. You know about him?”
    “The snake-handler? Of course.”
    “They let him loose this morning on Thorkild’s instructions. Koriot Angoss assured him this would be okay. But whereas on Riger’s he’s merely a member of a fanatical minority sect, he’s a novelty here, and a nuisance.”
    “How?”
    “Angoss’s idea was that he should be given some deadly snakes, wind up in hospital, and go home in embarrassment. Only the results of his quarantine examination showed that he has the enzyme S-herpetinase. A black mamba could spit in his eye and he’d just wipe away the tears.”
    Alida tensed. “You mean he’s immune?”
    “As a log of wood. The enzyme has been selected for among his ancestors, on a chance basis for who-knows-how-many generations, and since emigration to Riger’s, deliberately. He has it from both sides of his family.”
    “What do you foresee?”
    “I’ll pipe you the full computation. But in essence what I’m afraid of is that bored young daredevils will attempt to imitate his feats, and people who don’thave the enzyme will require a lot of intensive chemotherapy. We might even lose a life or two, and I don’t have to spell out what will happen in that case, do I?”
    Indeed not! But while Alida was still trying to find something