\nIllustrated by Alex Gnidziejko<\/a>
\nfrom Boy’s Life<\/em>, August 1988<\/p>\n
![\"mission](\"http:\/\/scruss.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/mission_survival.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We need a shibboleth!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153A what?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d said Tim Donaldson, the mining foreman of Xerxes 8, a mineral-rich planet on the far side of the Milky Way.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153A Shibboleth,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d repeated Harvey Wheeler. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153A way to determine the identity of the enemy sooner than we do now.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Donaldson and the rest of the group stared at him blankly. The old man, Freiberg, leaned forward on his cane, as if to speak, but then he sat back quietly. The 20 others, like Donaldson, mostly uneducated miners, began to look at the floor, not wishing to show their ignorance.<\/p>\n
Only 13-year-old Bobby Hall, whose parents had left him with Wheeler while they visited his ill grandmother on Sagis, had the courage to ask: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How does a Shibboleth work? What’s it look like?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Wheeler, the planet’s Intelligence Technician, smiled. He had often felt useless since coming to this planet. The mining colony put high value on muscles, not brains. Now he had a chance to show his<\/em> strength. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcA Shibboleth isn’t a physical thing,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Wheeler said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It’s a word, a password.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So what kind of password?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bobby asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153A secret one?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Secret passwords don’t work,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d groaned Donaldson as he paced the cramped underground chamber where the final human survivors of Xerxes 8 had gathered. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You know the Ardon robotoids can tune in on all our conversations and radio communications. Our \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcsecret password\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 wouldn’t stay secret for 10 seconds!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just a minute, Donaldson,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the elderly Freiberg spoke up. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If I remember my Bible stories correctly, a shibboleth is not that<\/em> kind of password.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That’s right,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d said Wheeler. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The term comes from the Bible, and a shibboleth isn’t secret. It just can’t be pronounced or understood by the enemy.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Bobby beamed with curiosity. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So what’s the Bible story. Mr. Freiberg?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Freiberg looked at Wheeler and then about the room. Everyone listened intently, knowing that the story could decide whether they lived or died.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Freiberg began, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153in the early days of the kingdom of Israel, back on Earth, a battle occurred between two tribes. But it was hard for the tribes to tell each other apart, because they looked, dressed and talked alike. Then one tribe discovered that it could identify the enemy by asking each captured member to say a certain word. You see, because a distinct sound was missing in the speech of the one tribe, its people couldn’t say certain words, like \u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 like \u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 shibboleth. They instead said \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcsib<\/em>boleth.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So you think this will work with the robotoids?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d spat Donaldson. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nonsense! The robotoids slip in among us and replace us. Like those tribes, we can’t tell them apart from us, Why? Because of their programming. They can mimic us perfectly. They could even be among us right now.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Freiberg, the mining company’s bookkeeper, shook his finger disapprovingly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Look, Donaldson, they haven’t beaten us until our reason gives way to fear.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Donaldson made a vocal noise of disdain and folded his arms angrily.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Freiberg’s right,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Wheeler said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The robotoids can slip in and replace any of us, but as long as one of us is still human, we must struggle to survive.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But, Mr. Wheeler,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d said Bobby, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Donaldson is right in a way too, The robotoids are programmed to be perfect. There aren’t any words in any language that they can’t say.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Neither Wheeler nor Freiberg spoke.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Absolutely,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Donaldson added darkly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153They know every language, every tone, every word. They even pick up slang quickly\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And their ability to communicate with their fellow robotoids means we can only catch ’em once,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Wheeler said sadly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Even if we made up a word or mispronounced one, we’d only catch ’em once.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153They have no flaws. It’s hopeless,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d grumbled Donaldson.<\/p>\n A miner stood so quickly that his chair fell over.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Look,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said excitedly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153l know nothing you’re talking about! I’m not real smart. But I’m scared!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Me too,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d cried a man behind him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don’t want to die! But I’ve worked with robotoids and know that they won’t give up!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That’s it,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Freiberg exclaimed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153They do<\/em> have a flaw. Think about it. They’ve been programmed to avoid being trapped by unsolvable puzzles. But to do exactly that, they’re also been programmed to never give up in other areas\u00e2\u20ac\u201dlike linguistics.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Right,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Wheeler said brightly. Then his enthusiasm died. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But how does that help us? That’s why slang words and made-up words won’t fool them. They just add to their memory banks, searching them until the problem is solved.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Freiberg,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bobby said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153what kind of unsolvable puzzle did you mean?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, things like asking a robotoids math or philosophy questions that have no answers,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Freiberg explained. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ask a human for the last digit of pi<\/em>, and he’ll admit he can’t find it because it’s somewhere in infinity.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Years ago,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he continued, turning to the miners, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153our soldiers could uncover a robotoid with such a question, literally make smoke come out its ears as the circuits burned up searching for the answers. Then they were reprogrammed to accept failure, so today a robotoid will laugh off such a challenge.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Wheeler brightened. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But, as you said, they still won’t accept failure in certain areas, like language. So\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 we could try some other branch of linguistics, like\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 spelling! We can feed ’em words that have silent letters.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Like \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcpneumonia\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 or \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcsarsaparilla\u00e2\u20ac\u2122?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bobby asked.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153As Mr. Wheeler said,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Freiberg answered, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153each would work only once. We need something to make a robotoid’s \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcbrain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 go into a closed loop. Something that would force it to search for an answer until it actually burned up its circuits.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What nonsense,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Donaldson snorted.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How about a rhyme?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bobby suggested.<\/p>\n Wheeler and Freiberg smiled.<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, Bobby,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d said Wheeler, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I’m afraid a rhyme would be a bit too simple. A robotoid would come up with countless rhymes for every word that \u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But what if the word doesn’t have a perfect rhyme?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bobby persisted.<\/p>\n Freiberg said: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you mean, Bobby?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What a bunch of hopeless fools!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Donaldson shouted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We’re on the verge of extinction. The robotoids are picking us off one by one. They’re closing in every minute. We’re cut off from everyone else in the galaxy, and we sit here dreaming about a magic word, listening to a child.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Freiberg inhaled deeply. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Donaldson, first of all, we are neither fools nor hopeless. We are alive, and we are thinking. That’s two advantages we have over the robotoids. It’s also the key to survival. Secondly, Bobby is in as much danger as the rest of us. That fact gives him certain rights.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Donaldson mumbled something and moved away, but most of the miners nodded, agreeing with Freiberg.<\/p>\n Freiberg turned to Bobby. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What word doesn’t have a perfect rhyme?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bobby began, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I’m not sure about other languages, but I remember learning that in English there’s no word that rhymes with \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcorange.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Wheeler rubbed his chin. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOrange\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 as a shibboleth?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He looked at Freiberg. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Can you think of a rhyme with \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcorange\u00e2\u20ac\u2122?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153None that I can think of,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Freiberg said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nothing perfect anyway.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Can you think of one, Donaldson?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Wheeler asked, turning to face the mining foreman.<\/p>\n But Donaldson didn’t answer. He stood strangely erect, staring straight ahead.<\/p>\n Smoke was coming out of his ears.<\/p>\n