THE MAN WHO MADE FOOLS OF HIMSELF 
Joseph Howard 

[21 may 2002—proofed for #bookz] 

"If you don't obey, I'll speak to my ship and destroy all of you," threatened Dars Rex, deposed king of The Seventeen Planets. "I am determined to get my empire back, and much more. Do you think to stop me?"
"You misunderstand," replied the slight, turquoise-colored priest standing in the doorway of his vine. "When you were coming in your ship, I said you could not use the duplicator for conquest. It will not work for you."
"It will work if your world wants to live," the human boasted to the diminutive seven-fingered creature. Dars pulled his sidearm, waved it around. "Now show it to me."
The priest smiled tiredly. "Of course."
He led Dars through the village of house-vines and softly singing trees. In a clearing on the other side stood the duplicator, a huge dark tube, soft and warm to the touch.
"Oh, come now. This is no machine. Where is the power source, where the mechanisms?"
"Most of it is not visible."
"Underground?"
"You might say so."
"Prove this thing. Send one of your people through."
"Of course," said the priest.
He whistled. A child came running.
"This is my own son."
The priest whistled again—a strange modulation. The child whistled back and ran around to the far end of the tube.
He walked through it and returned to his father's side.
"What trick is this? Where is his twin?"
"Please be patient," said the priest.
Soon an identical little boy, dressed identically, trotted to the other one, whistled, and kissed him on the forehead.
"Damn," the king spoke. "I wouldn't have believed it..."
He tongued a certain tooth. "Commander Zet, bring the Mark-A here."
"Location read. Mark-A on its way."
The priest looked surprised. "But surely you know the duplicator works only on flesh."
"So you claim."
The land-roving destroyer came in a straight line through the village, damaging vines, hurting trees so they ceased their singing. It stopped in front of the party.
"It was unnecessary to harm the village," said the priest, his twin sons hugging him close, looking wide-eyed at the bright orange bumpy sphere.
"Looks small, doesn't it?" Dars began bragging. "One charge from it could destroy your whole town and all the farm lands for kliks around. You shall learn to respect power."
The priest smiled innocently.
Dars tongued another tooth and ordered the destroyer to go through the tube. It did, and nothing else came out.
"You see." The priest smiled again. "Only flesh."
"How do I know you aren't lying? You set the machine for flesh."
"You know our reputation. We are truthful.
"And we do not control the duplicator. It is a machine, but also a living thing. We built it; but now it does what it does—independently.
"When it duplicates, it is essentially reproducing—not itself, but that organic thing which goes through it. It cannot make materials out of that which itself is not made."
"Then it shall make legions of me. How many can go through it at once?"
"A line can walk through it. Soon replicas of those first in line will intersperse with with those farther back in line. The process is continuous."
"It is not sensible."
"It works."
"Then I shall try it. A thousand of me should be able to take and hold an outpost. And some will stay behind to breed."
Dars Rex walked arrogantly through the tube; but moments later no new Dars appeared. "What the hell's wrong?"
He walked back to the mouth of the duplicator, went inside.
A grunt. Out came the king's duplicate, distinguished by the lack of metallic fittings and trim on his clothes, but holding the king's weapon.
The double dumped Dars' unconscious body on the ground and charred it.
"Now I am king," he boasted.
"Do you see the problem, now?" asked the priest. "Do you see why you cannot use the duplicator for conquest?"
"Shut up."
Dars ordered his troops to come to the clearing. He explained the duplicator. "I will be first out. Arrest the second one out."
Dars went through and returned to stand with his men.
Moments later ... "Kill him," screamed the Dars at the mouth of the tube, pointing to his progenitor. One of the thugs that remained to the once-proud ruler of legions fired upon the Dars nearby, killing him. Another wounded the one farther away at the duplicator.
"Damn you," screamed the living Dars. He froze his minions with his voice, then ordered the execution of the two who had fired—one for disobeying his original order to kill the Dars at the tube, the other for daring to fire on him.
The priest healed Dars; and days later he was trying again. After many deaths of duplicates and some of originals, the boss Dars wound up with a hold full of screaming, implacable Dars-prisoners.
"You see the problem," said the priest, standing near his vine. "They are all you. They are all king. None will ever obey.
"You see my sons, the duplicate and the original. They get along fine. They want playmates, not vassals.
"If you were like them you would do fine; but then you would not want to rule the universe."
Frustration and rage boiled upon the king's brow. "I will annihilate you all!" his twisted face screamed.
He ostentatiously placed his tongue on a tooth.
The priest was serene. "Then we shall be with God."
"You are worthless. You are always happy, even in death.
"I will not kill you. I will not give you the pleasure!" Dars tried to say; but the words came out as a gurgle.
Dars Rex, defeated ultimately by himself, left the planet.
One of the priest's sons ran up. The priest sighed.
"Now we must repair vines and trees. Those who sent Dars here to die will pay us well; but the damage is sad. Still, one must oblige good-neighbor worlds, even if it entails risk. Now no one can be accused by whatever allies he may have of killing him."
"But father, he is not dead."
"He will not last long, my son, nor the other copies. The first duplicate is a tiny bit less stable than the original. Like you... or is it your brother... but you'll both do fine. Thereafter the deterioration is progressive. That Dars must be a fifth- or sixth-generation clone.
"You are young to know the secret. You must not tell others. Dars and duplicates will die soon of natural causes assumed to be present before he reproduced himself."
"Is that why we kids can't play with the machine?"
"Yes, and there is no point in copying yourself. You can't prolong your life. It is better to be with God."
"I think that's wise, father. I have seen great evil. Now I understand good, better."
The priest's seven fingers tousled the leaves on his son's head. He put his arm around the child; and they walked back toward the house.
The vine parted to let them in.