“Question number two: Under what circumstances can a person as obviously intelligent as Arnold manage not to become a highly specialized member of society? And last, what kind of person can be so revoltingly unspecialized as to know, with fanatical certainty, that the main ingredient of a good potato fertilizer is ammonium nitrate; that such a substance is rather ineffective as an explosive unless you mix it with a good oxidizable material, such as Diesel fuel; that a four-square mile chunk of rock is ‘brittle’—”
“And don’t forget to add another nice facet—that he’s a lot cleverer in the manly art of self-defense than you’ll ever be.”
“I acknowledge my humiliation and at the same time repeat my question: What kind of person can be so unspecialized and at the same time so miserably competent?”
“I give up. Do you really know the answer?”
“I know this. I know that whoever he is, it makes good sense to send somebody like him along with two overspecialized robots like us. Look at us. You couldn’t pull a cotter pin with a pair of pliers if you knew what a cotter pin was. As for myself, if I’d of gotten that gun away from Arnold, I’m not even sure I’d have known how to fire it.”
“Which still doesn’t answer any questions.”
“There are still a hundred places on our primitive homeland that provide the answer,” said Harcraft thoughtfully. “Places where men spend half the year working with vegetables and fertilizer—”
“And the other half breaking rock with a sledge hammer?”
“Yes. And there’s probably no better place than a cell to train for the isolation of space.”
“Uh-huh. It also explains a certain familiarity with makeshift explosives and weapons.”