VII
Memory tinged with homesickness tricked him into a sad reverie. Thatthey were only memories, these thoughts that rose up to slyly capturehis attention, was clear. He was under no illusion that he wasexperiencing for the first time events that had long melted into thepast, for they had a common-place familiarity that stamped them asscenes revisited, events relived, dear friends recalled to mind.
He stood alone at the edge of a meadow with the afternoon sun hot on hisback and debated with Andra the advisability of transplanting a certainshrub from its chance-chosen place in the meadow to a position in theirown gardens. Throughout their discussion he was conscious of littledrops of perspiration threading their way down his naked spine, and helongingly savored the coolness of the stream-bank on which Andrareclined, a mile or two to the south.
In good-humored exasperation he commented enviously on woman's lot anddrew a dry rejoinder from a chance traveler on the highway to the north.He joined in the general laugh at his own expense, hearing the sallyrepeated and elaborated until it drifted out of conversational range. Hewas tempted to follow it farther out of curiosity, but it was not goodform to blanket local conversation for a mere whim. While his attentionwas distracted, however, Andra became involved in an exchange of localrecipes with a newcomer to the district, a farm-wife whose husband hadhad a fancy to try the westward farm lands. He joined the husband in awry grimace at the loquacity of women, and simultaneously caught sightof a distant figure crossing a ridge somewhat north of him. The figurepaused at the same instant, looked searchingly in his direction, thenwaved on sighting him and strolled on. It was the traveler whose quipwas now being repeated miles away, far in advance of him. Andra showedno sign of running out of recipes and returning to shrubs. He sighed,and stood alone in the meadow....
* * * * *
The casual facility of memory bridged time and space withoutdisorientation. He was strolling in the evening with his bride, Andra'sarm linked with his for the added pleasure of physical contact. In themanner of lovers they supplemented their thoughts with murmured wordsand sounds, thus sharing still another physical intimacy, for they werestill in that newly-mated condition where every manifestation of the onewas a source of delight and wonder to the other.
They paused momentarily by a vine-covered wall and he felt a cool frondreach out to caress his shoulder while a long tendril curled gracefullyabout his forearm between the upper and the lower wrists. A fewhundred-thousand years ago his remote ancestor would have recoiledviolently from the touch of what was then a strangler vine, but now hecasually disengaged the half-sentient tendril and with his mind caughtthe faint, faint flicker of rudimentary awareness; thus far had natureprogressed with the vine, apparently reluctant to abandon a false starttoward mobility and intelligence for an unsuitable species. Or perhaps,Andra added, in nature's long-term view the experiment might still beconsidered promising. He shook his head.
The vine had learned peaceful ways that saved it from extinction,drawing its food quietly from the earth while further developing amobility of sorts, but eventually an impasse would be reached whengreater mobility would endanger nutrition. If the roots withdrew fromthe soil, the vine would die--unless, he agreed slowly, echoing hershudder, the vine solved the dilemma by becoming again a carnivorousstrangler. Nature made unaccountable blunders and sometimes foundstrange remedies, turning a blessing for one species into a curse forothers....
HOMER]
On the same impulse they gazed at the night sky blazing with the heartof the galaxy spread around them, a galaxy as yet less than half mapped,only a small fraction of its secrets known. Like many new-mates theyplanned a leisurely, lengthy quest among the stars, a trip for whichtheir mutual absorption peculiarly fitted them. After all, theadvancement of knowledge still required physical and intellectualresearch and the joy of living still demanded physical and emotionalrelease, but there was one great barrier to space-travel.
Leaving the great community of Challon ordinarily meant leaving anintensely experienced fellowship to endure a shattering isolation noless intensely felt, unless one were fortunate enough to be chosen foran exploration team. There was both comfort and common sense in the useof teams of the greatest numerical strength consistent with efficiency,but the resources demanded by such teams limited the number that couldbe fielded at one time. Consequently, private voyages in small craftwere not entirely uncommon among the hardy--or the temporarilyself-sufficient, such as he and Andra. In a few days they would leaveChallon behind, break for the first time the half-spiritual link withall their world, and voyage forth in the belief that their love for eachother was alone enough to sustain them.
At the same instant the same doubt of self-worthiness crept into eachmind and was read and stoutly answered by the other, while a dozenneighbors near and distant interrupted their own concerns to murmurencouragement and recall the doubts they, too, had felt and learned todismiss. Reassured he led Andra back to the house, scarcely aware of thebackground bustle of other minds busy with other matters--nor, in fact,greatly caring at that moment that others existed. The manner of lovemay change, but not the manners of lovers.
* * * * *
Memory surged after memory on waves of nostalgia and homesickness thattold their own story of why the memories had been long buried. Challonhad fallen away behind them and the strangeness of the cleavage fromtheir fellows had dismayed them. In and around the spaceport center, amultitude of the fellows they were never to see again had paused longenough in their own affairs to mesh thoughts in a final projection ofencouragement that reached after the dwindling ship like a gesture offarewell.
A long, long farewell. A final farewell, unrecognized for the lastparting that it was.
They had known from the experience of others that the first terriblesilence would be a hard thing to endure until the strangeness wore off.At first they huddled like two children, driving their thoughts far intounanswering space in desperate disbelief that such utter silence couldbe. Repelled by space, they turned to each other and found more completeunion than they had thought possible. From the depth of their union theyfound the strength and growth and maturity to adapt, to endure, and tosurvive. The fear passed. The worst was over.
* * * * *
Planetfall succeeded planetfall and the routine of their activitiesbecame smooth and practiced. As was the custom, they had been askedto obtain various items of information from sundry known but largelyunexplored planets to help determine whether a later visit by afull-scale exploration team would be advisable. In one system they madea rapid instrumental survey of the only major continent on the onlyinhabitable planet, from a height of a hundred miles. In another, askimming prospecting trip in a certain area confirmed a predicted richore body. And at all times, of course--particularly when they left theknown systems behind and entered virgin territory--there was theChallonari to be trained and observed.
The Challonari--a part-organic, artificial brain--was one of the mostpromising recent developments of Challon science. It was also one of themost debatable, for the Challonari was capable of independent thought inits limited fashion and yet had been devised solely as an instrument, atool. It had no freedom of action, no physical independence, but it hadchildlike emotions and--this was the damnable thing--a sense of identityand awareness of its creators as such. Thus the moral issue was raised.To the Challon, the control or coercion of an independent intelligencewas a cardinal outrage. No greater sanctity existed than the sanctity ofthe individual, for anything that prejudiced or restricted the right ofthe individual to full mastery of himself was worse even than thedeliberate taking of life. It was murder of the ego. In a telepathicsociety, life itself could not be more precious than self-control.
The combined growth and manufacture of the Challonari had been stoppedin horror when it was realized that their capabilities were greater thananticipated. An organic tool had not been created, but rather a .
..what? When does a tool become an entity? If it is an entity, what righthave its makers to control it and use it as a tool? What right have theyto--the thorniest issue of all--destroy it or otherwise put it asidewhen it is no longer required? Until these fundamental issues could besettled, the handful of Challonari in existence must be cared for,trained and observed as if they were backward children.
The main function of the Challonari on such a voyage as this was tosafeguard the ship and its immediate vicinity when on strange worlds.This it accomplished by a swift, simplified appraisal of the offensivecapacities of any life form coming within its limited range. If theirnatural weapons--claws, size, poison, fangs--rendered them potentiallydangerous should the Mentor leave the ship, then the Challonariprojected into their minds a simple disinterest in the environs of theship, a reluctance to approach closer. If this failed, the reluctanceimpulse became tinged with fear, the intensity of the fear increasinguntil the desired retreat occurred.
If the approaching unknown was of sufficient intelligence to identifythe disinterest-reluctance-fear impulse as a telepathic warning, thenno further effort was made to turn it back, much less to hurl it backby force. That would have been unthinkable. An intelligent entityapproaching the vessel would be welcomed and requested to identifyitself, while notice of its approach would be delivered to the ChallonMentor. Stranger and Challon would then inevitably join in friendlygreeting, for hostile suspicion was unknown among minds that lay openone to the other. Among the handful of known life forms of sufficientintelligence to possess highly organized communications, no exception tothis natural rule existed. A meeting of minds was a meeting of friends.
* * * * *
Memory flinched, wavered, then flowed on into previously forbiddenareas. The long outward voyage approached its turning point, itsdisaster point. He did not know how or why it had happened. Perhapsin their mutual absorption he and Andra became careless. They hadentered a planetary system, he recalled, and he had casually manipulatedthe controls. His perceptive faculties detected a tiny spurt of flamesomewhere out of sight in the control bank, then the potent enginesreacted out of control for a critical instant near planetary mass. Theswift restoration of control only eased the crash, the automatics takingover a fraction too late after the fragile living tissue was smashedagainst the walls.
The return of consciousness told him at once that he was in the presenceof death. Lying paralyzed and helpless in a pool of his own fluids, hecould see the jelly that had been Andra. He quietly resigned himself tothe death that might yet take days to come. It would be welcome.
An interregnum of shock followed in which his normal faculties wereunseated, but with the passage of time he roused himself a little.Weakened as he was, his perception told him that the ship had burieditself deep in a swamp until it rested on bedrock. A dozen feet of muckand water lay over it. Even had they survived the crash they would havebeen helpless unless intelligent aid could be enlisted. He tried todrive out his thoughts in a cry for help, but the strength was gone fromhim. Within a radius of two miles there was no intelligent life, if anyexisted on the planet.
More from habit than for any other reason, he awakened the Challonari.It had survived the crash unharmed in its carefully cushionedimmobility, unaware that anything had transpired between the lastplanetfall and this one. It immediately perceived that one of theMentors had gone, but before it could ask questions it was sternlydirected to concentrate its attention on the environs of the vessel.Having thus distracted it from the presence of death, he sank backgratefully into a stasis of no-thought. Let time pass. It would bringsuccor or death, and he could do nothing more to hasten either one.
The Challonari roused him from his stupor on the third day after thecrash. It was disturbed, excited by something beyond its comprehension.While he had lain helpless and shriveling on a compartment floorsomething unusual had approached to within half a mile of the shipthrough the thick swamp vegetation. The life form had apparentlydetected the first tendrils of thought from the Challonari and withoutpreamble, as a natural defense, erected a savage mental shield. Pain andchaos that made coherent thinking difficult shook the artificial brain,but since this evidently was not an intelligent life form, else it wouldnot have reacted in such a manner, the Challonari increased in intensityits fear-reluctance impulse. The mental shielding of the intruder blazedand crackled with increasing dissonance, radiating pain, fear and panic,but no decipherable intelligent thought. It drew nearer, erratically,apparently running, then swiftly lapsed into unconsciousness. That waswhen the bewildered Challonari had called him for aid.
* * * * *
He reached out wearily with his mind in automatic response, touchedand hastily withdrew. Even when unconscious the strange being had anaura of discordance about its mind. He would have shivered had he stillbeen capable of physical reaction, for this was Unsanity, a thing hehad heard of but never before encountered. The Challonari caught hisprotective thought and withdrew from contact, though not without a softprotest, for it was inquisitive as any child. It, too, had heard ofunsanity. Rare stresses or injuries now and again temporarily upset thebalance of the mind and required the healing touch of other minds. Butunsanity was not something the Challonari could handle. It withdrew frompossible infection, protestingly, fearful for its beloved Mentor butincapable of disobeying a clear command.
His own great pity for the sick creature outside conquered theinertia of approaching death and he rallied what mental forces hestill retained. He could not disregard suffering nor withhold whateveraid it was in his power to give. Carefully, knowing something of whatto expect, he probed the shield which was no true shield but an uproarof faulty coordination comparable to the disruptions coming from abadly tuned radio. Wincing, as a musician winces when harsh, gratingdissonance strikes his ear, he gingerly probed deeper and deeper,exploring this strange and fascinating structure that was unlikeanything he had ever experienced. It was an extraordinary complexitythat spread before him--a maze, a labyrinth, a magnificent corruptionof order and reason.
His first discovery he half expected. This was a mind of an intelligencelevel not far beneath his own, though fearfully hobbled bymisconceptions, superstitions, half-truths and fallacies. Life hadbrutally mishandled and shackled--_life_ had? It was an adult of itsspecies. How could its condition have existed undetected for so long?He extended his explorations, and suddenly the incredible truth layrevealed.
The dominant species on this planet was that theoretically possiblebut logically improbable mistake of nature, a race of intelligentnontelepaths!
Fantastic as it was, there was no room for doubt. He was glad he hadordered the Challonari to withdraw from contact. To accept the existenceof such beings required a flexibility under shock, an adaptability ofreasoning, that the limited Challonari could never rise to. It was likea blow at the structure of the universe, but it raised a fascinating,age-old problem--what possible means of adequate communication couldthey have?
Excited despite the great discomfort of maintaining contact with thismind, he extended his explorations in search of the answer. A growingsuspicion was quickly confirmed beyond question, explaining at oncethe sickening deformities of the wasted mind and the enigma of thealternative means of communication. There simply was no adequatecommunication! From that, all else stemmed. Each of these creatures,these--he searched for the term--these "Man" as they called themselves,was an island, an isolation of ego in a flood of dark fears that beganlapping about them in early childhood and never ceased to rise. Andthis, by its own conception, was a "normal" specimen! It had "matured"in a thoroughly competitive society instead of the completelycooeperative society of the Challon. It had never really known orunderstood its own true nature, much less that of its fellows. It hadnever truly known security, serenity, freedom, or peace. The eternalwonder was that it had progressed at all.
Deeper and deeper he explored, tracing and classifying, filled with awe.The incredible creat
ure knew little or nothing of its own nervous systemand would not have been aware of loss if the most essential portion ofits brain had been surgically removed! Its life span was only a smallfraction of what it should have been since, in its ignorance, it failedto repair itself as it had the innate ability to do. And yet, what anunbelievable treasury lay locked and sealed here. Only long study couldrender this infinite honeycomb intelligible, even to a Challon. Nothinglike this had ever been known.
Mingled horror and profoundest admiration grew at what he found, but thecreature began to awaken. With a deft skill he planted a suggestion,then hastily withdrew from contact before the impossible discord ofmental cacophony became unbearable. The creature rose, wondering at itsprevious panic, and moved away from the vicinity of the vessel that now,above all else, it must never discover.
That was the first problem to be faced.
By learning what he had, the heaviest duty and the greatest moralobligation his race had ever borne was laid upon him. The last secret ofthese "Man" made effective action imperative. Although he him self wascrushed beyond hope of survival, somehow his new knowledge and _all thatit implied_ must survive.
* * * * *
Unobtrusive, physical reduction of the ship to completely unrecognizabledebris might have to be accomplished eventually, but it certainly wasnot immediately possible. However, perception told him that the heavyvessel was already hidden beneath silt and stagnant water. It wouldbe safe for a while from accidental discovery. The Challonari wasself-sustaining and could survive untended for years, if necessary,serving to keep the area clear of wild life that might draw huntersof the dominant species dangerously near.
There remained, then, the problem of providing a substitute for his ownpersonal survival. Here, the prospect seemed hopeless. The requirementswere a continuance of understanding, together with both the will and theability to act as necessary. Theoretically, he could have forcefullytaken possession of the body and mind of any suitable subject, but themere thought of such a violation was impossibly abhorrent. Respect forthe right of the individual to self-will was so deeply ingrained as tomake the deliberate unseating of another's reason virtually impossible.On the other hand, free-willed cooeperation and understanding wereequally out of reach; to enter the conscious mind of these beings wasagony for both parties. They could neither project nor receive thoughts.
Ebbing vitality and the increased urgency of the problem drove him to adesperate resource. A pregnant female came within the extreme range ofhis perception. An embryo mind might serve! The mind, as yet unsullied,sleeping, a blank page untouched by the world, was open to him. If theappropriate knowledge was seeded in its memory banks it might--it_must_--remain sane despite the world, and a sane mind would not disputewhat must be done.
He made a quick evaluation of the subject mind and discovered the flaw.The intelligence potential was too low. The embryo would not be capableof understanding the planted memories as they came to the consciouslevel, nor be capable of acting on them if they were understood. Timewas ebbing fast, and vitality with it. Very well, then, the mostdesperate, the most questionable resource of all remained. The unused,unrecognized prime center, true seat of the intellect, must be activatedthe way nature presumably had intended that it should be, had notsomething gone wrong in the dawn years of the planet.
There could be no moral objection to this measure if successful, sinceit amounted to giving sight to a blind man. The element of grave doubtlay in the relative chances of success or failure. The strange,interlocking structure of the unconscious mind of the embryo was notsomething that could be unraveled and examined in a hurry. Honestycompelled him to evaluate himself as young and inexperienced, notespecially noted among his own kind for brilliantly incisive judgment.It was not the sort of thing that he should even attempt without longstudy. It was too risky, too indecisive, too--
Time made the decision. There was no time left. The chill of death toldits own story. In an agony of haste he summoned all that remained ofvitality and fought off Death while he entered the embryo mind.
The fast-shriveling body in the spaceship retained life long enough torecognize the blunder, but not long enough to correct it. The wrong wasdone, and could not be undone.
* * * * *
The memories that mercifully blurred became clear again. He knew thatin due course the mishandled embryo experienced birth, entering theworld normally as a helpless, feebly squirming, pathetically vulnerablemite, and in no way drew unusual attention to itself. No one knew, orcared, that intellectual awakening was phenomenally quick, the firsttentative questionings occurring in only the fourth week of life. Herecalled how the stirring of objective awareness brought with it ahalf-remembered pang of death, and how the stirring of innocent wonderbrought--memories. The memory banks flooded open at the touch of wonder,poured out their contents, and the fledgling ego went down before thesurge, overwhelmed forever.
Inexperienced in such delicate maneuvers and overtaken at the crises bythe climactic unseating of Death, he had poured into the empty memorybanks the whole contents of his own mind. All his knowledge, all hisexperiences, all his memories on every level of incidents great andsmall. Everything. Including the complex and ineradicable concept ofhis own identity.
The Short Life Page 6
