The Dig

by Alan Dean Foster

  Was that a smile? Low wondered as he stared at the alien. Or did the twitch of beak and eyes signify something else entirely?

  His thoughts drifted to Brink. "Ask it how long the benign effect of the crystal lasts." She proceeded to translate.

  "It varies," the Cocytan explained, "depending on the organism. In your case I could not say. You are warm-blooded and have a closed circulatory system. Beyond that I cannot speculate on the details of your internal anatomy."

  "You still haven't told us why you were singled out for this special treatment." Robbins's interviewing skills came automatically to the fore. "What makes you so unique?"

  The Cocytan lingered a moment before replying. "I had the misfortune to be born brilliant."

  "You don't feel honored by all this?"

  "Honored?" The alien leaned forward so sharply that for an instant Robbins considered retreating. Instead, she held her ground. In her career she'd faced down all manner of threats and weapons. The feeling she received from the Cocytan was not one of menace or of friendship. Nor was it complete indifference. It ran deeper, and she determined to identify it.

  "You said that your people achieved several scientific breakthroughs at the same time." Low spoke through Robbins. "You've discussed the life crystals. What were the other ones?"

  The Cocytan turned to him. "There was a machine. An instrumentality called the Eye. Simple name for something so complex. I did not name it, though I was the one guilty of its evolution."

  "So you were more than an engineer." Robbins spoke slowly and carefully to make sure there were no misunderstandings. "You were a scientist as well." She glanced sharply at her companion. "Boston, this one was a scientist as well as an engineer." Low simply nodded and let her get on with the translating.

  "Engineering was my love," the Cocytan explained. "Science was my reason for existence. Ultimately, it became the reason for my nonexistence, for that of my friends and relations, for—" The creature broke off and began anew.

  "Let me tell you about the machine.

  "I did not develop the Eye by myself, of course. No mechanism so complex, so awesome in its capabilities, could be the product of one individual. But I was responsible for the underlying theorems and for much of the basic engineering.

  "The concept was then taken up by others, elaborated upon and, eventually, built. It took time. Some called it magic, but of course it was no such thing. It was simply very advanced applied science.

  "At the time, I was quite convinced that the mechanism ought to be built. My enthusiasm was shared by a small coterie of fellow researchers. Within what you would call the scientific establishment there was much skepticism, but the proposal was met with an open mind. Give us a concept, a design, my group was told, and it will be fabricated.

  "Thus challenged, what else could I do but comply? The necessary schematics were provided." The wing-flaps on the Cocytan's back moved more rapidly. A sign of excitement, Low wondered, or agitation? Or some alien emotion that would remain forever unknown to them?

  "In scope the Eye was not as grand as many other projects. We had raised cities that scraped the skies, run tunnels and temples to relaxation beneath the seas, probed the very heart of the planet. We had shrunk intricate machines to the size of cells, whose components consisted of individual atoms. You have encountered one of these yourselves, in the form of the life crystals. The Eye was a greater undertaking than some, less than others. It was simply ... the Eye."

  Robbins translated for Low, then asked, "This Eye, what did it do that was so important?"

  The Cocytan shifted slightly to loosen cramped muscles. "It allowed one to enter another plane of existence, to visit a different dimension. To transcend the limitations of time and space as they are generally known. Passing through the Eye stripped an individual of physical substance, leaving only the state of being behind. Yet all of that individual's original self, including the physical, was compacted and retained within the being that remained, much as one might dehydrate a fruit or vegetable.

  "The process was quick, painless and liberating."

  "What's it talking about?" Low put an arm around Robbins's shoulder.

  "I'm not sure. It's pretty complicated. Just because I understand the words doesn't mean I'm getting all the concepts. I think he's talking about being able to go into another dimension." She sought clarification.

  "For purposes of explanation your interpretation will suffice, little traveler. Within this other dimension all physicalities are absent. Belief, emotion, thought alone remain. Passing through the Eye, one becomes a conceptualization of oneself. Ethereal creatures of pure id, without solid form, they still possess the ability to perceive the physical world, though not to interact with it. Solidities are no longer barriers, though the vastness of deep space remains unbridgeable."

  Gesturing as it spoke, the Cocytan reminded Low of a prima ballerina. Though massive, it was not without grace.

  "It was more than metamorphosis," it continued. "It was the casting off of one existence in exchange for another. In the absence of imperfect physicality, death was reduced to a philosophical concept.

  "More and more of my kind chose to experience the transformation. They saw it as elevating themselves to a higher state of being. As thousands instead of dozens began to pass through the Eye, a procedure as simple in appearance as it was intricate in execution, I began to grow more and more concerned. In this I was not alone, but as the originator of the process I believe I was the only one to envision the ultimate consequences."

  "You foresaw some danger," Robbins commented softly.

  "Danger? What danger could there be in ascending to a higher state of being where one could no longer be killed or even injured? Where physical pain was but a memory and one could theoretically continue to live forever? Perhaps 'exist' forever is a better term, for I am not sure one should call it living.

  "I tried to warn those who remained against abandoning the universe in which we had evolved. But when feelings of ecstasy and elation were generated by those who had already passed through, which was the only way they could still communicate with the physical world, the rush through the Eye became a flood. Everyone wanted entry to the new paradise.

  "There was nothing I could do. I, who had been so much praised and honored, became a pariah among my kind. Or worse, I was laughed at. I withdrew into myself, into my own thoughts, as tens of thousands and more lined up to step through.

  "As a scientist I have always been suspicious of easy answers. Solutions should be difficult, time-consuming and painful. The Eye was too facile. In the rush to immortality I felt we as a species were overlooking something vital. As I mentioned, there is existing, and then there is life. I was not certain that discorporeal being was also life.

  "Of course, without making the journey myself there was no way I could be certain of my fears."

  "Did you?" Robbins asked breathlessly.

  "You do not understand. Not one who had passed through expressed any interest in returning. Satisfaction was absolute. Which only made me more uneasy.

  "At that point I felt only one option was left to me. I needed to do something vivid enough to shock those who remained out of their expectant complacency. I had to propound a warning they could not ignore. They needed to be reminded of the beauty of mortality.

  "So I took my own life."

  Robbins gaped at the tall figure. Low had to shake her to get a response. "Come on, Maggie. What did it say? Why is it looking like that?"

  "It says ... it says that it's a suicide. It was done as a warning to those who hadn't yet made the transportation through the Eye."

  "I left behind," continued the Cocytan, not caring whether the two humans had concluded their conversation or not, "a request. I demanded that my remaining colleagues not use the life crystals to revive me. In this, at least, they complied with my wishes. But unbeknownst to me I was given this elaborate burial, and my remains were preserved instead of being allowed to return to th
e soil from whence they sprang. How absurd! Perhaps they thought that some day I might wish to be revived so that I could pass through the Eye and join my kindred spirits, as it were. They knew of me, but none knew me."

  "But you have been revived since then," Robbins suggested.

  "Not by my own kind, nor by any who looked like you. Others have come. Not many."

  "Other ships," Low muttered when Robbins had finished translating.

  "Some have used the life crystals to revive me. They asked their questions and then they departed, leaving me in peace. None returned, and I know nothing of their fate."

  "We can guess," replied Robbins.

  "I am the only Cocytan left." The Creator's voice was devoid of self-pity or remorse. "This I know from having spoken with those who have revived me. I am certain that those who placed me here subsequently took their own turns in the line, until the voices of my kind were no longer heard on the surface of this world. They abandoned it to the lower forms. They used a machine to thwart evolution. My machine." The great head dropped, and this time there was no mistaking the meaning behind the gesture.

  For a long time neither human nor Cocytan spoke.

  "They've all gone?" Robbins inquired when she could speak again.

  "All. Over, through, into: whichever metaphor you prefer will do. Within that other dimension all exist still. I have no reason to believe otherwise. Whether they also live I cannot say. That is a designation I reserve for physical existence. They are here now, even as we speak."

  "What?" Low's eyes darted in all directions, seeking the unseeable.

  "I thought I'd felt something." Robbins turned a slow circle, seeing only walls, ceiling and floor. "I've been feeling it ever since we stepped out of the asteroid-ship. A presence. And not in the metaphysical sense either." Sparks swirled urgently around her, enigmatic and undefined.

  Again Low spoke through Robbins. "Does it have anything to do with these flashes of light? When they intensify, I could swear that we're being watched."

  "You are," the Cocytan told them. "As alien physical intelligences, you constitute a diversion."

  "How many?" Low asked.

  The Cocytan considered before replying. "I see no reason why all should not be here. Watching, listening, observing, doubtless commenting."

  "All?" queried Robbins uncertainly. "How many did you say made the trip through the Eye?"

  The Cocytan made a sweeping gesture. "It is not so impossible as it seems. Reduced to pure thought, to a statement of oneself, existence requires very little in the way of actual space. Assuming every transposition was successful, and while I lived I never saw an unsuccessful one, the number would have been approximately three billion."

  "Three billion?" Robbins swallowed as points of light swirled about her. "And they're all here now, in this room with us?"

  "Why should they be somewhere else when they could be here? As I said, you represent an entertaining diversion."

  "What's it saying?" Low demanded to know.

  She turned to him. "It says that all of the Cocytans who went through the Eye are here now, in this chamber with us. You, me, it, and three billion thought-forms."

  Low whistled softly. Once more his gaze flicked about the room. "Funny. Up until now I didn't feel crowded in here."

  CHAPTER 19

  It was fortunate neither of them was claustrophobic, or remaining in the chamber would have been unbearable. As it was, they felt no pressure, no weight. Only the knowledge pressed heavily on them.

  "How do you know this?" Low inquired.

  "It is logical, and as a Cocytan I am more attuned to the presence of my own kind than you. I cannot be sure of the number, but it follows. I am sensitive to projections you are incapable of receiving. Not complete, coherent thoughts, mind you, but general sensations. My brethren are here, and yet they are not."

  The Creator started to stand but proved unable to complete the motion. Instead, it sank back down, clearly exhausted.

  "What's wrong?" The depth of her concern surprised Robbins.

  "It is not good for one who has been long dead to be resurrected. The life-crystal process was developed so that those who perished accidentally could be rapidly revived. It was never intended to be used on ancient bodies like myself. Nor, as you now know, is this the first time I have been brought back. Under such circumstances the efficacy of the life crystal is marginal. I am past successful rejuvenation and find the whole process tiresome beyond measure.

  "Remember that I chose death: It did not choose me. My physical form is so old that even the preservation processes employed by my misguided but well-intentioned colleagues can no longer sustain ordinary organic functions. The systems are feeble, the organs withered. I am sure that the intention was that should I be revived, I would quickly make the transportation via the Eye. It was never planned that I live for long in this precarious state."

  "Are you in pain?"

  Again that maybe-smile. "Only mentally."

  "Then why haven't you joined them? Why don't you now?"

  "For the same reason I did not do so in the first place," the scientist-engineer explained. "Immortality is an alluring concept, much better dealt with via learned philosophical discourse than actuality. Every time I am revived, I sense greater and greater un-happiness among the transposed. It is just as I feared: They are less than content with their immortal lot."

  "The Creator lectures the travelers." The ten million who commented rested unnoticed on Maggie Robbins's left shoulder.

  "Will they comprehend?" wondered twenty million others. "And comprehending, will they act?"

  "They will not," insisted forty million more from the vicinity of Low's ankles. "Why should they? We didn't."

  "Primitiveness is relative," avowed the first. "It is not related to the moment. We have had a thousand years to learn and yet are helpless to affect our own condition."

  "Who could have envisioned eternity as boring?" observed fifty million more.

  "From all I have been able to glean," the Cocytan told Low and Robbins, "paradise is a particularly dreary place. When one surrenders physicality, one also gives up all the sensations it is heir to. Touch, smell, taste and several other senses I do not think you possess. The ability to perceive electrical fields, for one, and to taste of the infrared. In crossing over, all are surrendered, all are lost forever."

  "How do you know all this?" Robbins asked.

  "Those sensations I spoke of are present even as we speak. I perceive nothing to contradict that which I have already surmised. Each time I am revived, I sense increasing disenchantment, a desire to trade timeliness for timelessness."

  "Then why don't they?" Robbins translated for Low. "Why don't they just come back?"

  "Don't be ridiculous, Maggie. It's patently impossible."

  "Actually," explained the Cocytan, "it is quite possible. Hypothetically, at least."

  Again Robbins translated. Except for the superior smirk, which was entirely her own addition. "See?"

  "Okayyy." Low turned to face the Creator. "If it's possible, and muchly desired, then when you're revived, why don't you just amble over to this Eye and throw it into reverse or whatever? Assuming the machinery is still functional, of course."

  "As I have told you, my physical form is not capable of leaving this special chamber. Were I to attempt a task as elementary as rising from this platform and walking to the exit, my internal skeleton would simply collapse. My head would sink down between my shoulders to end up somewhere in the region of my pelvic girdle, crushing my internal organs along the way.

  "So long as I remain atop this platform and make no attempt to leave, I am constantly bathed in what for lack of a better term I will call an energy field. It is similar to but different from that projected by the life crystals. Did you think that after a thousand years my flesh and blood would remain intact and functional without constant attention?" As an alarmed Low started to back away, it gestured sharply.

  "There is no ne
ed to flee. The field is site as well as cell specific and cannot affect you." The alien visage contorted. "At this point in time, it barely affects me.

  "I cannot reactivate the Eye, much less execute the necessary adjustments. It is possible that the latter were left engaged by those who stepped through last, but I do not know."

  "You really think this gateway, or whatever it is, still might be operational?" Low asked through Robbins.

  "As I told you, I have no way of knowing. I have not set eyes upon the device myself since I terminated my own existence. A termination, by the way, with which I am still fully comfortable and the interruption of which causes me a great deal of distress."

  "We're sorry," Robbins replied, "but we didn't have any choice. We're desperate to find a way back to our own world."

  "I understand. You are prey to the ills of the flesh. It must be difficult to be alive and far from one's home. Death alleviates so many petty concerns."

  "Not for me," Low declared when Robbins had translated this last for him. "I've got too many questions for which I'd still like to have answers. Now, tell us about this machine."

  Despite its evident fatigue, the scientist-engineer did its best to comply. "Like all devices of advanced Cocytan manufacture, the Eye was designed when not in use to shut itself down and preserve itself against decay. Unless it was tampered with or affected by unforeseen natural forces, it should remain, self-repairing and self-maintaining, awaiting reactivation should it be required. You have already seen how Cocytan machinery can sustain itself, or you would not be here now."

  Low nodded. "The interisland transport system, the planetarium and many other devices are still functional."

  "My people knew how to build. But they could not devise a mathematical theorem that would lead to contentment. In a delirium of expectation they cast aside everything they had built up to that time. It is a great pity.

  "If the Eye could be reactivated, and if it was properly re-programmed prior to the last of my colleagues' transposing themselves, then I feel certain many if not all would return to gladly engage the normal progression of life and death they unwittingly left behind. Among them would be many who could be of assistance to you.