Feet of Clay — Context and Discussion

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In Category - Other Worlds

Authors: Orban, Paul, 1896-1974 [Illustrator], Hoskins, Robert, 1933-1993 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2010 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Science fiction; Short stories; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 8,472

Reading time 37 min

Text sections 1

Feet of Clay — Context and Discussion can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 8,472 words, 37 min estimated reading time, and 1 detected text section.

The text analysis averages about 13.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Science fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #32724

In this 1950s science fiction story, a human troubleshooter named Cassidy arrives on the planet Kash, where natives worship the star-traveling traders as gods. The narrative alternates between bureaucratic banter and tense encounters with ailing aliens, building toward a revelation about the limits of human power.

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Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
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File: pg32724

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_Life is pretty strange when a god who is good and benevolent must prove that he has_

"The problem," said Cassidy, "would seem to be simple." He thumped his outsized knuckles against the desk. "Almost too simple."

"Why?" The other was a wearer of the black and silver uniform of Extrasol Traders; a short man, made shorter by the beer-barrel shape of his body and the extreme width of his shoulders. His head was capped with close-cropped gray curls.

"Why?" he repeated. "I've been studying it ever since it first cropped up, and I must admit that it's been beyond me."

"I must confess, Dillon," said Cassidy, "I wonder how you ever rose to the managerial ranks of Extrasol. I find it hard to imagine a personnel man stupid enough to put you in charge of even a backwater planet like this Kash. Surely somebody in the home office must know how dumb you are?"

"My dumbness is not the subject of this conversation," said Dillon, grimly. "I didn't like the idea of calling in a trouble-shooter. I liked it even less when I found out it was to be you."

Cassidy grinned. "You mean my wonderful personality hasn't made an impression on you? I'm cut to the quick."

"I put up with you for only one reason. You know aliens, far better than I could ever hope to. You're about the best in the field."

"Only about? Really, Dillon, if you knew of someone better than me, why didn't you get them?"

"All right!" He shouted the words. "You're the best! But you still haven't explained why the problem seems simple to you." He pulled out a cigarette, and bit down savagely on the end, only to spit out the loose tobacco amidst a sputter of curses.

"The misfortunes of being feeble-minded," sighed Cassidy. "But for your sake, I'll take you by the hand, and try to lead you down the road of intelligence. But first, you better go over the situation once more.

"We are on Kash," said Dillon, visibly controlling his patience. "It's the fourth world of a G-type sun of the periphery, unnamed in the catalogues. For that reason, we have assigned it the native name. Kash is their term for both the star and the planet, and roughly translates as 'home of the Gods'.

"The planet was first contacted during the great galactic expansion of 2317, when the sole native language was taped. The planet is approximately two-thirds the size of Earth, but its density is somewhat less, so the gravity is about half that of Earth. It is moonless, and so far from galactic center that scarcely a hundred stars are visible in the sky. Thus a trained observer can usually pick out the other five planets of the system with no trouble at all." He paused, and took a drink of water.

"Six months ago it was contacted by Unit 317 of Extrasol Traders...."

"Namely you," said Cassidy.

"Me. A month was spent mapping the planet and searching out native villages. I then returned to base and picked up supplies necessary for setting up an outpost. Two months ago I returned.

"And all Hell broke loose...."

Night fell quickly, and with little relief on Kash, for the stars were few and far between, and shed little light. Dillon stepped out of the office that was doing double-duty as living quarters until separate quarters could be set up, and started for the nearby well. He cursed as he realized his flashlight still lay on the desk, but the light pouring from the open door was enough to see by, and he decided against returning.

As he walked, he breathed deeply of the tangy night air, and sighed with satisfaction. This world was infinitely more pleasurable than the last he had posted, and he intended to enjoy his stay.

He let his thoughts ramble as he walked and so almost ran down the waiting alien before he saw him. The native's huge eyes gleamed softly in the spill of light from the office, and the gray down that covered his body and head, except for the face, seemed soft and alive.

"Tarsa, Bila," said the Earthman, using the native greeting.

"Tarsa, starman. May the Gods shine their eternal light on you."

"And on you," Dillon said, observing the ritual. "But what brings you here at night?"

"The night is beautiful, is it not, starman? It shines with a glory all its own. At times it would seem to outdo its brother, the day."

Continue Reading →

The story opens with a sharp exchange between Cassidy, a trouble-shooter with outsized knuckles, and Dillon, a beer-barrel-shaped Extrasol Traders manager on the planet Kash. Their banter establishes a dynamic of condescension and grudging respect, while the setting—a backwater world whose name translates as 'home of the Gods'—immediately frames the central tension: the natives regard the star-traveling humans as divine beings. The narrative moves from the office into the alien village, where a storm and a sick wife prompt a request for 'intercession.' The brisk dialogue and the shift from bureaucratic squabbling to a rain-soaked, smoky hut set up a story that tests the limits of human authority against alien expectations.

A World of Half-Gravity and Few Stars

The planet Kash is sketched with economical details that shape the story's atmosphere. It is two-thirds Earth's size, with half the gravity, moonless, and so far from galactic center that 'scarcely a hundred stars are visible in the sky.' This isolation reinforces the natives' belief that their world is the home of gods. The low gravity is never explicitly mentioned again, but it subtly influences the physicality of scenes—the way characters move, the weight of objects. The sparse starfield also mirrors the story's focus: a small, self-contained conflict rather than a sprawling space opera. The setting is not merely backdrop; it conditions the characters' perceptions and the plot's logic.

The Rhythm of Complaint and Crisis

The story alternates between two modes: irritable office arguments and urgent village visits. The opening dialogue between Cassidy and Dillon is a volley of insults—Cassidy calls Dillon 'feeble-minded,' Dillon shouts and bites his cigarette. This verbal sparring gives way to a pattern of crisis: a native arrives with a plea, the humans wade through rain or dust to a hut, and Dillon attempts a cure. The cycle repeats with variations—a storm, a wind, a flood—each time testing Dillon's patience and Cassidy's skepticism. The structure creates a sense of mounting pressure, as the mundane frustrations of the outpost collide with the natives' desperate faith.

The Alien as Supplicant

The Kashian natives are portrayed through their interactions with the humans, not through interiority. Bila, the first alien we meet, is described as a 'sorry caricature' with plastered-down fur, dripping water. He speaks in formal, deferential phrases: 'Tarsa, starman,' and 'I thank you in the name of my people.' The humans are addressed as possessors of 'great and wondrous magic,' and the priest is dismissed as 'like a lost little boy' compared to Dillon. This dynamic is central to the story's title—the gods have feet of clay—but the excerpts do not reveal whether the humans can sustain the illusion. The aliens remain supplicants, their suffering rendered through the humans' limited perspective.

The Troubleshooter's Method

Cassidy is introduced as an expert on aliens, 'about the best in the field,' but his method is not explained. He dismisses the problem as 'simple' yet does not elaborate. His role is to observe and critique, while Dillon handles the actual interventions. The story withholds Cassidy's expertise, making him a cipher whose judgment we are meant to trust without evidence. This asymmetry—between Cassidy's claimed knowledge and his inaction—creates suspense. The reader is left to wonder whether his confidence is justified or whether it masks a flaw. The narrative structure, moving from dialogue to crisis and back, keeps the focus on the unfolding situation rather than on Cassidy's interior reasoning.

The story's title, Feet of Clay, points to a central irony: the humans are worshipped as gods, but their power is limited. The excerpts do not reveal whether the crisis is resolved or whether the illusion shatters. Readers should pay attention to the gap between what the humans claim and what they can actually do, and to the way the setting—a half-gravity world with few stars—frames their actions. The story rewards attention to its small, precise details: the cigarette bitten in anger, the rain that turns the village into an island, the smoke that stings human eyes.

I keep thinking about how Cassidy learns that reverence doesn’t mean understanding—how the Kash mistook capability for divinity. That quiet ache of misread kindness stays with me. Hot Planet — Inside the Classic circles the same warm, lonely space, but from another angle. It’s like revisiting an old photograph, noticing the shadows you’d missed before.