The Twilight of the Vilp

by Paul Ableman

  “Exactly. You’re at last beginning to understand, Drik.”

  “Yep, this is a very big thing for us Vilp. You say you’ve got those spores on you, Sonya?”

  “Yes, here they are.”

  Sonya carefully withdrew the phial from her handbag and handed it to Drik. He gazed at it wonderingly.

  “That’s them all right—our silver spores. The Council will be very pleased about this, Sonya. They’ll probably make you an honoury Vilp or something like that. Here, you’d better hang on to them.”

  Drik tossed the phial lightly to Sonya. Unfortunately she failed to catch it and it fell to the ground, breaking and allowing a little trickle of silver to spill out.

  “It’s broken!” Sonya wailed.

  Drik peered down at the ruin, nodding soberly.

  “Yes, it’s broken all right.”

  “But the spores! They’re ruined! Drik, doesn’t this mean—doesn’t it mean the end of your race?”

  Drik sighed.

  “It sure looks like it. Yep, I guess this is the end of the Vilp all right. Here. Sonya, do you like poached yagga fish? It’s the most delicious…”

  THE SILVER SPORES

  Conclusion—The Twilight of the Vilp

  An attempt was made to re-introduce sex into Vilp society. It was not, however, very successful. The instinct had been lost and the Vilp were too logical to embrace what was now a mere arbitary rite. For example, in accordance with the Council’s instructions, a young male Vilp would invite a young female to go for a walk with him. They would stroll for a while, perhaps discussing some intricate mathematical theorem, and then the youth, remembering the new situation, would say:

  “I desire you insanely.”

  “How do you mean ‘insanely’?”

  “It means a gross perturbation of cerebral functioning—something we’ve outgrown, really.”

  “And you feel like that now?”

  “Well—I mean it’s the correct formula for courting. Look, it’s here on the Council’s instructions.”

  “Is it? Oh yes, ‘I desire you insanely.’ Odd! Listen, what if the modulus of the fifth integral happened to be random? Surely that would mean—”

  “I say, we ought to court a bit. It’s only fair.”

  “All right.”

  “Well—as I said—I desire you insanely.”

  “How do you mean ‘desire’?”

  “It means that I wish to invaginate my member.”

  “Right. Go ahead.”

  “Here—what you just said, about the fifth integral being random—you know what would happen? There’d be a tensor shift of the entire probability factor towards infinity!”

  “Exactly! And that would displace the force vectors so that—”

  At the end of the decade, it became clear that the sex scheme was a failure. A few babies had been born and were being desultorily raised but romantic love, jealousy, marriage, promiscuity, infidelity, perversion—all the old traditions which the Council had attempted to reestablish—had never really taken root. The churches, the courts of law, the brothels, the back-street abortionists, the vice squads and the other institutions which, on the basis of a close scrutiny of the historical records, the Council had, with difficulty, recreated, were barely used. A committee of senior Vilp founded a newspaper and filled its columns with complaints about the riotous profligacy of their fellow citizens in the hope of providing an erotic stimulus. But few Vilp read it, and those that did soon turned with relief to the latest research monograph….

  THE SILVER SPORES

  Conclusion—The Twilight of the Vilp

  Councillor Agg drifted above the ginger sea of a small blue planet. He looked down and saw a couple copulating on a pleasure raft. He immediately dived down and sat beside them.

  “Hello,” he greeted them warmly. “How are you?”

  “Very well, sir,” answered the girl.

  “‘Sir’, eh?” laughed Agg. “What do you take me for, a councillor?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Can’t deceive you youngsters. Well, it’s the truth.” Agg removed the hand with which he had been hiding his insignia. “I’m Councillor Agg, glad to meet you.”

  The young couple ceased copulating and introduced themselves.

  “Nice little planet this,” remarked Agg, conversationally. “Anything special about it?”

  “Nothing very much,” answered the youth. “There’s some intelligent light, but that’s about all.”

  “Intelligent light, eh? Not more than a few hundred planets with intelligent light, as I recollect. Worth a little research?”

  “I don’t know, sir. The trouble is there’s really nothing new to be learned about intelligent light.”

  “I know,” sympathized Agg. “The institutes are working back on Puphborl to find a few new fields for research but I don’t think they’ve come up with much recently. Well now, glad to see you copulating like that. Been doing a lot of it?”

  “A fair amount, sir.”

  “Great! Great! Keep at it. Rare to find a couple of really diligent youngsters like you. Most of them—you know—copulate now and then—if they happen to remember—don’t bother to have orgasms—practically never conceive—no way to run a sex drive, is it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I mean, now that we’ve lost the silver spores, we’ve really got to copulate, otherwise we’re a doomed race! But you two seem to understand the problem.”

  “Oh yes, sir.”

  “In that case, I won’t bore you with my usual pep talk, about our achievements and all the galaxies we dominate and all the life-forms that are dependent on us—I mean, you two are doing the job, aren’t you?”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  “Good! Fine! Well, I’ll be shoving. There’s a big, white planet orbiting that next star—thought I might take a look at that before bedtime.”

  “Good luck, sir.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much. And you really enjoy copulating, eh?”

  “Oh yes, sir, we think it’s fine.”

  “Right.”

  Agg bestowed a warm smile on the couple and stood poised to float up from the raft. Instead of lifting, however, and maintaining his benign smile, he pressed a button on his belt. A barely-visible lilac field enfolded the young couple, reducing them instantaneously to transparent crystals. Agg gazed thoughtfully at the crystals for some time, then he moved forward and scooped them carefully into a little bag which he placed in a pocket of his metallic pants. Then he pressed another button on his belt and floated upwards at increasing velocity. When he reached the outer limits of the atmosphere, he transferred to hyperwave and, the next instant, rematerialized in the outer atmosphere of the white planet. As he drifted down towards the surface, he was still sardonically reproaching himself:

  “Crystallizing a nice young couple like that—good copulators too—you watch yourself, councillor, you’re behaving in a somewhat eccentric way.”

  Agg landed on the back of a large but small-brained ice mammal. The beast was about a mile high and was occupied in gouging the frozen carcasses of smaller animals out of an ice-mountain and devouring them. However, its metabolism was slow (requiring about a year for the act of opening its jaws) and so its motion was not disturbing. Agg approached a comfortable laboratory on the animal’s back in which a young Vilp couple were living. He touched the door and it slid open.

  “Hello,” he greeted them. “Well, this is really attractive, and fully equipped! I see you’ve even got a Canning Diffuser.”

  The young man, however, did not respond to Agg’s friendly greeting. Frowning, he informed the councillor that he was not in the mood for conversation and that there was a travellers’ hostel near the stellar axis of the planet.

  “That so?” asked Agg, with feigned interest. “Tell you the truth, I’m not ready for bed just yet. It’d be nice to have a little chat with you two if—”

  “Now I’m afraid—” began the youth irritably. />
  “If,” continued Agg, with slight emphasis, “you can put up with a verbose old councillor for a few minutes.”

  At the word “councillor” the young man started slightly. He glanced at Agg’s insignia and then, with a faint, deferential gesture, apologized.

  “Forgive me, sir! Reprehensible, I know. Don’t know what’s getting into us.” He turned peremptorily to the girl, who like himself, was naked. “Why let me make an ass of myself? Why not warn me that I’m being discourteous to a councillor?”

  “I—I didn’t notice either,” stammered the girl.

  “Don’t be upset,” Agg soothed them. “It’s unimportant. I expect you’ve been wrapped up in research?”

  “Research!” grunted the young man contemptuously. “What research is there? We’re just getting a few routine statistics—metabolic conversion rates, bio-replacement schedules—nothing of any real significance.”

  “And yet,” remarked Agg, accepting the glass of “chell” that the girl had handed him and sipping it with pleasure, “you seemed a little preoccupied, a bit—well, distracted when I knocked.”

  “I think it must have been this sex business, sir.”

  “Really? How do you mean?”

  “Well, I mean, we’ve been copulating quite a bit. It begins to—well get you after a while. You feel the same, don’t you, Ben-ll?”

  “Yes, it’s strange,” agreed the girl. “You just start off copulating because now we’ve lost the spores we’ve got to keep the race going. Then you begin to get—kind of preoccupied with it. I don’t know—”

  “Try to explain, my dear,” encouraged Agg gently.

  “Well, it forms a new social group, if you see what I mean. Oh, I know it’s not significant compared to the various functional units one joins from time to time but when you’ve been copulating with someone for a while—a—relationship seems to develop.”

  “A relationship?” Agg frowned. “What exactly do you mean by a relationship, my dear?”

  The girl smiled.

  “I can’t really define it—not yet, anyway. Oh, it’s probably nothing, just the unfamiliarity. It’s a pity we lost the spores. I think sex is going to make a big difference in the long run.”

  “Really?” Agg contemplated her for some time, then nodded thoughtfully. “Anyway, it’s a fine thing to come upon a patriotic, dutiful young pair like you two. Well now, there’s no need for me to bore you any longer. You’re obviously setting a splendid example. Just keep at it, that’s all. Now I’ll head for that traveller’s hostel and get a little sleep I think.”

  Agg moved towards the door, which slid open as he approached. When he reached the threshold, however, he paused—paused for quite an appreciable time. The young couple glanced at each other. Slowly Agg’s hand moved to his belt. A little later he turned and, a curious expression, a mixture of doubt and satisfaction on his wrinkled old face, scooped the crystals into his little bag.

  Some time later, Agg paused in intergalactic space. There were no stars for thousands of light years in any direction. Agg drifted, brooding on time and on his people. Before long he noticed a faint radiance approaching and soon another Vilp drew up beside him. Agg recognized him as Councillor Bo-17.

  “Hello, Agg,” Bo-17 greeted him. “Thought I sensed a councillor in these parts. Where are you heading for?”

  “Don’t really know,” admitted Agg, accepting Bo-17’s flask and taking a pull of chell. “Fact is, I’m feeling a bit homesick. Probably head back to Puphborl for a spell.”

  “Super-nova over there,” remarked Bo-17, nodding towards a faint point of swelling radiance in a nearby galaxy. “New one, I think. Perhaps we ought to tap it. They’re a bit short of power in those parts. Tell me, Agg, how do you find the sex drive’s going?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “Pretty well, eh? You’re having better luck than I am! Easier to find a planet without a life-form than a good copulator amongst the Vilp. Least that’s my impression. Still, I suppose we’ll win through. Oh, what have you got? Do I sense crystals?”

  “I’ve got some crystals,” nodded Agg shortly.

  “Really? Offenders? Here, there’s a reconstitution station on the planet I’m making for. Like me to take them along with me?”

  “No, it’s all right. I’ll hang on to these crystals.”

  “Right you are. Well, I’d best be pushing along. I’m heading out to a fringe galaxy—take me the best part of an hour—and, I’m hungry! See you, Agg.”

  “See you, Bo-17.”

  The other councillor pressed a button on his belt and abruptly vanished. For some time afterwards, Agg lingered thoughtfully. He reached down and patted the pockets of his metallic pants which were now heavy with several bags stuffed full of crystals. Bo-17 hadn’t met him just casually, not in this remote spot. His appearance had been a function of the growing concern of the corporate mind of the Council. So they were beginning—probably to about the same extent that Agg himself was—to register his revolt. Agg smiled, chuckled, then for a long time, drifting in emptiness, he roared with laughter. Then he reached down, pressed a button on his belt and vanished from dimensional space.

  Some months later, on an undistinguished planet, Agg scooped a few crystals into an already bulging bag and then lay placidly on a couch in the little outpost laboratory and waited. They were coming—he could sense it. From five thousand loci throughout the cluster, from whichever of the Vilp-dominated planets they had been patrolling when the critical tension of Agg’s revolt had automatically convened them, the Galactic Councillors were converging on Agg. He lay still. His brain— which, like the brain of every councillor, could separately consider or creatively synthesize at least two hundred separate lines of thought—prepared for the trial to come.

  “Hi, Agg!”

  The first arrival emerged into dimensional existence by Agg’s side.

  “Agg, great to see you, Vilp!” and Isk-12, the second to arrive, sat down on the end of the couch.

  “Haven’t seen you for centuries, Agg,” thus Nad-79.

  “Agg! How’s tricks?” queried Agg-54.

  “It’s real good to see you, Agg,” Seml-13 saluted his old friend.

  Soon the greetings became so numerous that they merged into an indistinct hum of comradeship as councillors materialized rapidly in and around the laboratory. When the last of the five thousand had arrived, the whole body according to custom, drifted out into space and there opened the session, restricting the agenda at first to routine matters. Reports of geological, cosmological and social events throughout the cluster circulated telepathically around the Council and were instantaneously metabolized into resolutions. Within a few minutes, as the councillors drifted in relaxed attitudes, millions of interlocking decisions had been taken on the conduct of Vilp affairs. Then the causal issue of the meeting slowly began to manifest itself and the initial probing murmurs, prescribed by convention, began to be sensed.

  “Big load of crystals you’ve got there, Agg.” “Where do you find all the offenders, Agg? I haven’t come across a really crystallizable crook for years.” “You think the sex drive’s going to succeed, Agg,” “Agg, I’d like to know your views on techniques for encouraging copulation?”

  Agg now projected into the joint consciousness of the Council the indispensable “challenge datum”.

  “These crystals aren’t offenders. They’re copulating couples. I’ve been crystallizing the best copulators I’ve found—got about ten million here.”

  “Do you hear that?”

  “Listen to what the councillor says?”

  “Here we’ve been trying to drum up a little sexual enthusiasm and this Vilp’s been crystallizing them as fast as he could.”

  “Agg’s got no time for our sex drive—that’s clear.”

  The exclamation and reproaches continued. Each councillor registered, and participated in, the debate at this level. It was the topmost level, the most superficial, the patch of foam on the surface of
an ebullient sea beneath which mighty life-forms grapple. At the next level down was data, sheer information. Here, each councillor was projecting into the joint consciousness of the Council every relevant fact of which he was master. The historians disgorged dates, names, statistics concerning the history and pre-history of every intelligent life-form throughout the cluster with special emphasis on Vilp participation. The mathematicians spewed out formulae and equations representing, in total, a picture of the energy-structure of the cosmos. The psychologists presented analyses of all modes of consciousness and their potential development. Each group of specialists made its contribution.

  At the next level down was synthesis. Here data and interpretation perpetually combined, dissociated themselves and recombined into synthetic views of vast areas of total reality. Here the units of consideration were the growth and decay of civilizations, the life-cycle of galaxies, the slow explosion of modes of consciousness, the growth-potential of each type of vitality. Here Vilp history unfolded from its arboreal origins to its fusion with the metabolism of a thousand million galaxies.

  At the deepest level was vision. Here no distinction was made between the actual and the hypothetical, between the form of culture and the innumerable collateral possibilities. Here time was abolished and all force and intelligence in the universe was scanned for its ultimate expression.

  Soon the surface level was abandoned. Mere verbal concepts could no longer serve even to polarize the deeper levels. From now on the debate was “silent”. Nothing that could be expressed in language any longer circulated through the high consciousness of the Galactic Council as it floated—visually a casual and relaxed assembly of elderly Vilp—on the fringes of a minor planet.

  With what remained of his individuality, Agg smiled. He had touched off something big, as big as anything he could remember and he had been a councillor for some thousands of years. The debate was no longer between him and the remainder of the Council. Nor was it between two factions within the Council. It was not even between opposing attitudes ambivalently maintained in each councillor’s mind. In truth, it was no longer a debate. It had become a furnace, a furnace of pure intelligence from which—in the same way that heavy metals, in the near-absolute excitation of a super-nova, are produced from initial hydrogen—a new and denser vision of reality would emerge.