"No."
Keaflyn shrugged. That was par for the course. Any ordinary star would show at least a detectable pimple of reaction to the heavy-element content of a probe. Lumon's Star never did.
Which could be important, it occurred to him.
"Kelly, how could a star ignore a cold chunk of heavy elements the size of a probe?" he asked.
"I don't know, Mark."
"It could ignore it by warping a tiny hole through it every time a particle of the star's mass needed to travel through the area occupied by the probe. The particle is preceded by a warp to clear it a path. The more dense the population of particles, the more warpicles there are slashing through the probe, and the faster the probe loses its redundancy."
The ache was easing as Keaflyn exuberantly fitted the pattern together.
"That could even explain how a star can be a stability," he chortled happily. "The main part of the job would be keeping the same balance between hydrogen and helium. It's the change of the H-He ratio that moves a star along its evolutionary track. If a superfluous helium atom is warped away . . . somewhere . . . the instant it is created, and hydrogen atoms are warped in to replace it, the star could go on forever without changing. Right?"
"What you propose seems sound, Mark, granting the existence of the warpicles." After a pause the ship added, "Also, you assume the warpicles are characteristically selective of the kinds of atoms they remove from and bring into the star."
Keaflyn nodded. "I have a notion they would be. A big warp isn't selective, but a warp quantum . . . well, take a light quantum for example. It has a particular wave length, a particular energy level. Ordinary light combines the whole spectrum, from high-energy violet to lowenergy red quanta. Or you can produce monochromatic light—all quanta of about the same wavelength. I think we've found the analog of that here . . . warpicles of the right energy to drop hydrogen but pick up any heavier element. I'll have to do some higher-math chicken-tracks to pin it down, of course. And after that . . . "
He hesitated, his forehead frowning while his lips kept their tight smile.
Time! So much, suddenly, to try to do in one lifetime! He had planned to investigate the stabilities at a leisurely pace, taking a couple of centuries, perhaps. Now he might well be limited to less than half a century. Under other circumstances his present body's useful span could be stretched considerably longer than that, but he had to expect physical inroads from the pleasure-impress and from the impinging Neg. Such traumas caused physiological imbalances that speeded the aging process. So . . . fifty years at the most.
"We'd better go to Locus by way of Bensor," he muttered, "so I can get an instrument shop started on putting together a second Lumon probe designed to provide warpicle data. Then, after I finish with Locus we can come back here."
"Are you instructing me to warp for Bensor, Mark?" the ship asked.
Keaflyn hesitated. Was there nothing he could improvise, right now, with which to investigate warpicles? Something that would enable him to save some time? Not likely, he had to admit. That job was going to require a highly precise, thoroughly specialized, very tough piece of equipment. Something well planned, not something thrown together on the spur of the moment. He shrugged. "I suppose so, Kelly. Set warp for—"
"Planetary body detected, Mark," the ship interrupted him.
"What?"
"A planetary body," the ship repeated, "orbiting Lumon's Star at ninety million miles. You may observe it on the screen if you like."
Keaflyn turned to stare at the image. "This star has no planets, Kelly," he said reprovingly while reading detector indicators stating that the object was 47.6 million miles from the ship, was of 1.142 Earth-mass, and had an albedo of .493. He chuckled. "That planet isn't there. And why didn't you tell me it was there before now?"
"Because I did not detect it until now, Mark. Presumably, it was not there previous to detection."
"Kelly, I marvel at your incapacity for astonishment," Keaflyn laughed. "A whole planet suddenly turns up out of nowhere and you tell me about it as routinely as if you were notifying me of lunchtime. Planets don't jump about like warping spaceships. Or do they?"
"Not to my knowledge, Mark. Energies required for the establishment of a planetary warp are fourteen orders of magnitude greater than that released by a Sol-type star. The highest energy level usefully harnessed by humanity is only—"
"Hey! Mark Keaflyn!"
"Huh? Who said that?"
"It was a call from the planetary body, Mark," the ship reported. "It overrode my vocal circuits and—"
"Hi, Mark! Come on down!"
Keaflyn blinked. "Who's calling, and from where?" he demanded, slightly miffed by the speaker's poor comm etiquette.
"You can call me Lafe. As for where I am"—the voice paused for a chuckle—"this place is rivaled only by God in the number of its names. Avalon will do. Tell your ship to bring you down, Mark."
"The . . . the legendary world of Avalon?" Keaflyn stumbled, recalling tales of early spacemen who had claimed inexplicable visits to an elusive world of that name. And even older legends . . .
"This is the place," the voice replied. "Also called Valhalla by some, Paradise by quite a few, and the State of Nirvana by many mystics with an inkling of the truth. Look, are you coming down or aren't you?"
"Sure. Why not?" giggled Keaflyn, his hysteria mounting. "On the other hand, why? I'm a busy man, Lafe."
"If you're interested in stabilities, you ought to look this place over," the voice replied. "Also, we want to take a look at you."
"You mean Avalon's a stability?"
"What else?"
"All right. I'm on my way." To his ship he said, "Head for the planet, Kelly."
Well, why not an Avalon? he mused as he watched the planetary image swell on the viewscreen. Why not a heaven? Earthmen had encountered stranger—and far less anticipated—things than that since achieving interstellar flight. And it made sense that heaven would be a stability, perhaps the key stability as far as his investigation was concerned. Filled with angels who were themselves stabilities, no doubt, and who could answer questions about themselves as phenomena . . .
"Hey, Lafe," he called.
"Yeah?" the voice came back.
"Am I dead?"
"Certainly not! You're just visiting, not staying."
"Good. Suddenly I wasn't sure. Where do I land my ship?"
"Don't worry about that. We'll put an appropriate site under you."
Keaflyn shrugged. "Land anywhere, Kelly," he instructed the ship.
Chapter 6
The site turned out to be a green rolling meadow, complete with sparkling brook and stately groves.
"Environment safety check, Kelly," ordered Keaflyn as the ship touched down.
"Don't be a fuddy-duddy! Come on out!" snorted Lafe.
"Suitable air and climate, Mark," the ship reported.
"Okay," he replied to both of them.
He cycled himself through the lock and stepped down on to the grass. Waiting for him was a heavyset man with a homely, puckish face—a face readily recognizable from photos in numerous histories and textbooks.
"Oh, that Lafe," Keaflyn remarked, shaking the pudgy extended hand.
"None other," Lafe said jovially. "We're on a firstname basis here, Mark. Avoids ceremoniousness." He studied Keaflyn keenly. "Hum-um. Quite a combination . . . you, your giggle machine, and the Neg. That Neg is no slouch, either, you may be interested to know. It's quite a guy."
"I wouldn't object to giving up the Neg and the giggle," said Keaflyn.
"Your hint's well-taken," chuckled Lafe, "but we don't interfere to any crucial extent in outside affairs."
"I never thought you, of all people, would pass up a chance to restore a person's sanity," Keaflyn challenged.
"When I recognized you, I assumed that was why you asked me to land."
"A hasty conclusion. We merely wanted to look you over. However, we'll keep your intruders repressed while
you're here." Lafe turned his head slightly and called out, "Hey, fellers, come on over!"
Keaflyn had not noticed any others around, but now several people strolled up nonchalantly. Most of them were historically famed Earthmen with familiar faces, but extraterrestrial humanity was represented by a couple of furry Kalobangers and a lustrous translucent of Weiglizz. The presence of these three made Keaflyn realize the environment could not be precisely as it seemed. If it were, the Kalobangers would be collapsing from heat exhaustion while the atmosphere poisoned the dioxidesynthesizing Weiglindese. Or perhaps the three weren't really present in body . . . perhaps, for that matter, no one was present in body . . .
"Don't fret over the physics of this place," advised Lafe, obviously having read his thought. "Just accept it and forget it. Let me introduce Siggy, Ben, Albert, Lennie, Klon, Flon, and the ladies Dolly, Zennia, Marilyn, Kathie and Pvlikka."
Keaflyn acknowledged the introductions, noting that Lafe included the Weiglindese translucent among the females. His mind was busy with something else.
"I can't simply accept and forget the physics of this place," he protested. "You say Avalon's a stability, and that's what I'm investigating. My presence here gives me a unique opportunity to conduct a series of tests—"
"No way, handsome," said Zennia, a brunette Keaflyn couldn't quite place. "Lafe's given you the best approach. You'll learn more about this place by relaxing and letting it soak in than by trying to analyze it."
"Oh . . . well, I wondered how you can mingle with Kalobangers and a Weiglindese with nobody shielded . . . "
"It is a wonder to wonder at, at that," remarked Ben.
"Go fly a kite, tubby," sneered Marilyn. Ben grinned, unoffended. He put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
Keaflyn saw no answer was forthcoming, so he tried another question. "If you're really wearing bodies . . . " he began.
"Oh, we are, most definitely," said Ben.
"Well, I'm amazed to recognize so many of you,"
Keaflyn finished.
"That's the way things work on such worlds as Avalon," said Lafe, settling into a lecture pattern. "An ego-field goes along, one trillennium after another, in body after body, leading more or less routine lives. Then comes a lifetime that is anything but routine, a lifetime in which that ego-field achieves its potentials to a startling degree, so much so that any future lives would be anticlimactic. That soul's gone as far as it can go, so nature allows it to quit while it's ahead.
"Thus, it departs from the birth-and-death cycle of ordinary humanity and comes here as a stability. Naturally, its stable bodyform is the one in which it achieved its potential.
"Some of the old Earth religions had a smattering of the truth," Lafe continued, "particularly those that preached reincarnation. They spoke of Nirvana, an exalted state which delivered the soul from continual body-hopping to live through eternity in disembodied bliss. They were wrong about the disembodied condition, of course, and they had some strange notions about how to achieve Nirvana . . . "
"So did you, Lafe," put in Siggy.
But I got here just the same," Lafe grinned, "and I made it without talking about sex all the time."
Siggy shrugged. "You merely broadened upon the base of my pioneering studies into the realm of the mind. And at that, you did not recognize that contralife is the original source of all human aberration, no more than did I." Lafe sighed and said to Keaflyn: "It is to be expected that all of us are rather hung up in the wins of our final lifetimes. Some of us more than others."
"Will you two shrinks break it off?" snorted Dolly. "I'll swear, you guys are as bad as politicians for arguing!"
"I'm still not clear on what kind of ego-field potential has to be realized to qualify you for—" Keaflyn began.
"Whatever kind of potential a particular ego-field happens to have," said Ben. "Morality has nothing to do with it. For example, Marilyn here . . . "
Albert claimed Keaflyn's attention. "Have you considered the fact that certain principles must be counted as stabilities, Mark?" he asked. "One might mention in this respect the mass-energy relationship, E=mc2 . . . "
"Yes," nodded Keaflyn. "However, in my work I'm concentrating on material rather than abstract stabilities, because abstractions about abstractions are likely to lead into deceptive—"
"A pity old Earth didn't have a stability of its own," said Lennie. "Man might have been spared long ages of ignorance had he developed in constant confrontation with an object such as the Resistant Globe."
"Perhaps," said Keaflyn, "but on the other hand the planet Bensor failed to produce a native humanity, although our geologists tell us there were three abortive—"
"I think morality should have something to do with it," said Marilyn heatedly, more to Ben than anyone else.
"This place is full of dirty old roué s."
"You may be noticing, Mark," said Ben as he cuddled the woman, "that we arrive here with our eccentric personality traits intact. That enriches and invigorates our social life."
"Yes, of course," Keaflyn responded, somewhat dizzy. A slovenly, heavy-browed man stomped up to the group and glared at the two Kalobangers. "Are you two coming to rehearsal or aren't you?" he demanded stormily.
"Yes, yes, right away, Ludwig," Klon and Flon chorused.
Marilyn pulled away from Ben. "Can I help with anything, Luddy?" she murmured huskily. "I love good music so."
Ludwig frowned at her and replied with a disdainful snort. He whirled and stomped away with the Kalobangers hurrying along behind.
"What was that all about?" asked Keaflyn.
"Oh, Ludwig's still trying to get the first perfect performance of his Ninth Symphony," said Pvlikka.
"A pleasure meeting you, Mark," said Ben, who had reclaimed Marilyn and was now extending his hand to Mark.
"An honor for me," returned Keaflyn, stammering a bit. "I often wondered why some of you never turned up in present-day bodies."
"It ought to be based on morality," said Marilyn.
"That wouldn't work, my pretty," said Ben, leading her away. "That would drain off the cream."
"I think Ben's right about that," commented Lafe.
"What good would be a heaven that skimmed off only the strongest and best souls? And as present company amply illustrates, souls of any caliber can fulfill their potentials."
"It doesn't seem that way to me," said Keaflyn, looking over the distinguished company. "I would merely say there's no one-to-one correlation between greatness and morality."
"Handsome, you're a soul after my own soul," Zennia approved.
Albert said, "I have found our discussion most informative," and shook Mark's hand.
"Wait a moment," said Mark as Albert moved away, wondering what discussion there had been for Albert to enjoy. "I wanted to ask you if the Locus-type objects are evenly spaced."
Albert grinned shyly, his large eyes sparkling. "Aha! A trick question! You know of only one Locus, but you ask if the others are evenly spaced. Very good! However, I must decline to answer your question, while advising you that your assumption concerning the existence of other Locus-type objects may or may not be correct."
"Lafe let drop that this isn't the only Avalon-type world," Keaflyn persisted.
"I wondered if you would catch that," said Albert.
"Lafe has a less rigorous mind than my own, it seems."
He nodded pleasantly and walked away.
"No point in keeping you in complete mystery, the way I see it," Lafe defended himself. "Humanity will explore far enough into the galaxy to find duplicate stabilities in a few hundred years, anyway."
"The sheer homeliness of you Earth creatures is beginning to bug me," said Pvlikka, and she vanished.
"Dolly, who is not at all homely, has promised to model for me," said Lennie. "Come along, fair one."
"We really must be going, too, Kathie," said Siggy, consulting an old-fashioned pocket watch.
"That was a short party," Keaflyn remarked
dolefully as the four of them departed.
"They learned what they wanted about you," explained Lafe. "And you're my guest, not theirs. As for Zennia here, I suppose her curiosity about you is still unsatisfied."
Keaflyn was curious about the woman, too, as she was the only Earthsoul in the group he hadn't identified at least tentatively.
She smiled at him. "Why don't we introduce the visitor to the taste of ambrosia, Lafe?" she suggested.
"Why don't you take over my hosting duties and do it yourself?" he replied.
"My pleasure. Come along, Mark."
Keaflyn liked the idea but hesitated to leave such a promising source of information as Lafe. He said to the man, "The Senior Arlan Sibling warned me that I could be a serious danger with my Neg, that I'm in the middle of a cosmic crisis. What do you think, Lafe?"
"I think Berina's right. She's usually been right, though very thoroughly conservative, for the past fortythree trillion years. I would advise you not to let your Neg get the upper hand."
"That's what she said. But what should I do in this crisis?" Keaflyn demanded. "How am I to know what's the right decision for me, and what's wrong?"
Lafe looked thoughtful. "Think of it this way, Mark. Whatever you've been intending to do all along must be right. Otherwise the Neg wouldn't have shown up to try to move you in another direction. It's probably that simple, so don't complicate things in your mind. So long, pal."
"So long." Mark watched him leave regretfully, his mind still brimming with questions of a kind he did not expect Zennia would find interesting. "I suppose Lafe's curiosity was satisfied, too," he muttered.
"Don't feel put out by all the fast departures," she replied, accurately gauging his feelings. "All of us are so fully occupied that we come and go with little ceremony."
"Occupied with what?"
Zennia shrugged, a fetching gesture the way she did it. "That would be impossible to explain. Time and busyness just fit together in a different way here than they do outside. There are no words to describe the difference."
"And I suppose you'll dash off, too, when your curiosity is satisfied," he grunted.
"Very likely," she laughed.
"Okay, ask your question and have done with it."
A Sense of Infinity Page 15
