Student Body

Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Robert Cicconetti, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

Transcriber’s Note:

This etext was produced from the March 1953 issue of Galaxy. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.






Illustrated by ASHMAN


When a really infallible scientific bureau makes a drastically serious error, the data must be wrong … but wrong in what way?


he first morning that they were fully committed to the planet, the executive officer stepped out of the ship. It was not quite dawn. Executive Hafner squinted in the early light; his eyes opened wider, and he promptly went back inside. Three minutes later, he reappeared with the biologist in tow.

“Last night you said there was nothing dangerous,” said the executive. “Do you still think it’s so?”

Dano Marin stared. “I do.” What his voice lacked in conviction, it made up in embarrassment. He laughed uncertainly.

“This is no laughing matter. I’ll talk to you later.”

The biologist stood by the ship and watched as the executive walked to the row of sleeping colonists.

“Mrs. Athyl,” said the executive as he stopped beside the sleeping figure.

She yawned, rubbed her eyes, rolled over, and stood up. The covering that should have been there, however, wasn’t. Neither was the garment she had on when she had gone to sleep. She assumed the conventional position of a woman who is astonished to find herself unclad without her knowledge or consent.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Athyl. I’m not a voyeur myself. Still, I think you should get some clothing on.” Most of the colonists were awake now. Executive Hafner turned to them. “If you haven’t any suitable clothing in the ship, the commissary will issue you some. Explanations will be given later.”

The colonists scattered. There was no compulsive modesty among them, for it couldn’t have survived a year and a half in crowded spaceships. Nevertheless, it was a shock to awaken with no clothing on and not know who or what had removed it during the night. It was surprise more than anything else that disconcerted them.

On his way back to the spaceship, Executive Hafner paused. “Any ideas about it?”

Dano Marin shrugged. “How could I have? The planet is as new to me as it is to you.”

“Sure. But you’re the biologist.”

As the only scientist in a crew of rough-and-ready colonists and builders, Marin was going to be called on to answer a lot of questions that weren’t in his field.

“Nocturnal insects, most likely,” he suggested. That was pretty weak, though he knew that in ancient times locusts had stripped fields in a matter of hours. Could they do the same with the clothing of humans and not awaken them? “I’ll look into the matter. As soon as I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” Hafner nodded and went into the spaceship.


ano Marin walked to the grove in which the colonists had been sleeping. It had been a mistake to let them bed down there, but at the time the request had been made, there had seemed no reason not to grant it. After eighteen months in crowded ships everyone naturally wanted fresh air and the rustle of leaves overhead.

Marin looked out through the grove. It was empty now; the colonists, both men and women, had disappeared inside the ship, dressing, probably.

The trees were not tall and the leaves were dark bottle-green. Occasional huge white flowers caught sunlight that made them seem larger than they were. It wasn’t Earth and therefore the trees couldn’t be magnolias. But they reminded Marin of magnolia trees and thereafter he always thought of them as that.

The problem of the missing clothing was ironic. Biological Survey never made a mistake—yet obviously they had. They listed the planet as the most suitable for Man of any so far discovered. Few insects, no dangerous animals, a most equitable climate. They had named it Glade because that was the word which fitted best. The whole land mass seemed to be one vast and pleasant meadow.

Evidently there were things about the planet that Biological Survey had missed.

Marin dropped to his knees and began to look for clues. If insects had been responsible, there ought to be a few dead ones, crushed, perhaps, as the colonists rolled over in their sleep. There were no insects, either live or dead.

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