Our visit ended in the control room, a globular blister on the roof of the central unit. The viewscreen, which had once looked out on the barren darkness of interstellar space, now reflected the more prosaic vistas of the plaza: the curved walkways and benches which ringed the finger of granite marking the city’s foundation. A small boy was scratching his name on the rock with a sliver of metal.
The control room was filled with a variety of electronic equipment, all now deactivated. I tried to imagine the ship under full power: a semaphore of multi-coloured lights flashing on the instrument panels, the relentless data print-outs, the whirring of magnetic tape, the steady throb of the engines. A dramatic and unrealistic view of the voyage, no doubt, but a potent one, nevertheless.
“Once the survey teams had verified that Gaia was fit for human habitation,” Jon was saying, “the colonists were ferried down to the preferential site of settlement at the mouth of the Tamus, Each shuttle was designed to double as a temporary housing unit until permanent buildings could be constructed. When everyone had been landed safely, a skeleton crew brought the Auriga down. Unfortunately, during the descent there was a systems malfunction involving the retrojets which resulted in the ship touching down at a speed of two hundred kilometres per hour. The ship sustained only minor structural damage, but the crew was killed outright.”
He indicated a copper plaque which had been set into the centre of the floor:
in memoriam:
frances taylor
rikki alvarez
janis martin
roger umbach
donald spencer
“They were the first humans to die on Gaia,” Jon said. “Their bodies were committed to the river, and the colonists honoured them by christening the river the ‘Tamus’, an acronym of their surnames.”
Jon pointed to an array of screens high on the wall opposite the observation blister. The screens transmitted the perspectives of various scanners set into the engine chamber walls. The ship’s propulsion system was complex beyond our understanding, but there was no mistaking the awesome power which the now-defunct ion-pulse units had once possessed. To accelerate such a massive craft as the Auriga to velocities approaching that of light-speed was a supreme accomplishment indeed. But the ship would never fly again; it had been grounded almost thirty cycles ago, and it was now an immovable monument. The first colonists had irrevocably committed themselves to establishing a new life on Gaia.
The remainder of the history course that season concentrated on the development of the colony from its initial base, M’threnni aid was acknowledged but not directly discussed. It was only when I began to attend the Alien Studies seminars midway through the season that the M’threnni became the focus of attention.
It was a subsidiary course, and only twelve students had opted for it, reflecting the general attitude that the aliens were best ignored or paid as little attention as possible. We convened in a small conference room in main block. Jon was again our tutor, and he prefaced the first session by saying: “This will be a short course. About a quarter of it will be fact, the rest just intelligent guesswork. We know little about the aliens, despite their proximity and their influence on Gaia, and it would be foolish of me to pretend otherwise. Regard these seminars as exercises in speculative xenology.”
He went over to the window and pulled up the blind. The black crystal dominated the lawn. Jon had brought with him no notes or visual aids, but the M’threnni artifact was a more potent reminder of our subject matter than any holocube or ill-taken photograph.
“Let me deal first with the historical facts,” John said. He sat down at the head of the table and put his feet up on an empty chair.
“The colonists,” he began, “had been on Gaia only one season when the M’threnni came. At this time, their settlement was little more than a few crude buildings dotted around the Auriga on the northern bank of the Tamus, although a small fishing fleet was also operating out of the harbour. But the settlement was in serious difficulties. Crop failures and the general difficulty in adapting to an alien environment had resulted in many deaths, and the total population had only increased by five per cent in that first season, despite the overall success of the agricultural programme and the introduction of the incubator system. Then, at midnight on the last day of second month in Summer, the M’threnni arrived.
“Their ship, a torus of light, dropped out of the sky and I landed on Round Island, which at the time was nothing more than a barren, uninhabited rock. The colonists were naturally awestruck. Being defenceless and not knowing what to do, they simply waited. All through the night the island was alive with mysterious activity—vague shimmerings of light, and eerie, barely audible sounds. As dawn broke the following day, the dumbfounded colonists saw that an entire terminus—everything that exists on the island today—had been constructed overnight.”
Jon stretched his arms and put them behind his head. A faint smile played on his face as he absorbed the expectant silence. He was obviously enjoying the drama of the story as much as we.
“Shortly after dawn,” he went on, “a craft left the island , and crossed the river, landing at the centre of the settlement. Several aliens emerged. Kaufman attempted to communicate with them, but if they understood human speech, they were unable or unwilling to use it. The M’threnni—the name, by the way, is believed to be a corruption of a fragment of alien speech overheard by Kaufman—merely stood there, surveying the ramshackle buildings and the terrified humans. Then, without apparent provocation, several people stepped out of the crowd of onlookers and went over to them. No words were exchanged as far as we know, but they accompanied the aliens into their craft, which then returned to Round Island.
“The day passed without further incident. Again that night there was activity on the island, and another ship landed. The following dawn, the humans returned and explained that the aliens had proposed to supply the colony with the raw materials necessary for its survival. The first consignment already lay waiting on the terminus. Kaufman listened to the terms—Round Island must remain sacrosanct to the aliens, and the aliens in turn would eschew direct intervention in human affairs—and, after hasty discussions, agreed. The Voices then returned to the tower. Kaufman anticipated further discussions, but they never appeared again. A bridge was built to the island to facilitate the transport of the goods, and that, more or less, is the way things have remained ever since. M’threnni freighters deposit their cargo on Round Island at regular intervals and the haulage people move in to pluck it away and deliver it into our grateful hands.” He leaned forward. “Questions?”
Everyone’s arm was raised.
“Why did these people go with the M’threnni?”
“We don’t know.”
“Were they ever seen or heard from again?”
“The Voices emerge from time to time to watch the loading operations at the terminus, but they remain at a distance and do not attempt to communicate with the haulage teams. There has been no direct contact with the aliens or their Voices since they met with Kaufman.”
“We believe that every M’threnni in the tower has a human companion, though naturally we can’t be sure of this. Estimates of the number of aliens vary, but it is certainly more than ten and probably less than a hundred. We also believe that a male M’threnni always takes a female Voice, and vice versa. We have no idea why.”
This concurred with my own encounter with the alien, I thought. The dying Voice had been female, the M’threnni male.
“Do the Voices breed?”
“There is no evidence to presume so.”
“What happens when one dies?”
“A replacement is chosen.”
“How?”
Jon paused, and eyed us conspiratorially. “It appears that the M’threnni travel secretly through Gaia to seek out suitable candidates. What their criteria of choice are, no one knows, but there is no evidence to suggest that people are spirited away to the tower against their wishes. Those cho
sen always seem to accept their calling without demur; as far as we know, no prospective Voice has ever spurned the aliens. It’s most mysterious.” He paused again, then said quietly: “In view of the general feeling of mistrust towards the M’threnni, however, I would ask you to keep this information to yourselves. The authorities have always turned a blind eye to the M’threnni excursions, while at the same time seeking to ensure that the populace at large is not aware of them. There is no telling what fears might be kindled if a knowledge of the aliens’ ‘recruiting missions’ became public.”
There was general agreement that we would say nothing. Jon’s candidness was far more appealing than Lionel’s threats.
“Are the M’threnni immortal?” someone asked.
“Again, it is impossible to be sure. Highly unlikely, I would say, although they may possess considerable longevity. The Voices, too, appear to live to quite an advanced age by human standards.”
The questions went on, and Jon answered them as best he could. It was clear, however, that precious little was known about the aliens or what life was like for the Voices inside the tower. The Voices served the M’threnni until they died; none had ever emerged from the tower to tell their tale.
In subsequent seminars we went on to discuss the various raw materials and artifacts which the M’threnni had supplied to Gaia. The bulk of the supplies were building materials and raw ores which were in short supply on our planet, and these alone provided few clues about M’threnni culture or its level of technological development. But the aliens had also shipped to Gaia various artifacts such as the gasglobes and the black crystal which had no obvious practical use but were nevertheless the products of sophisticated processing techniques. Detailed studies of many of these artifacts had been undertaken, and while it was not possible to draw any sweeping conclusions from them (as Jon put it: “You cannot infer the whole of a civilization from a handful of trinkets”), one salient fact emerged: many of the artifacts derived their effects from the emission or absorption of radiation in the lower visible and infra-red regions of the spectrum. Allying to this the speculation that the aliens disliked strong sunlight (a speculation derived mainly, though not wholly, from the fact that they conducted their freighter operations by night), it seemed likely that the M’threnni were accustomed to radiation less intense and of a slightly longer wavelength than that of Gaia’s suns. This suggested that their home-world orbited a dim, red sun. The M’threnni’s attenuated physiques indicated also that it was a lower-gravity world than Gaia. Thus environmental difficulties might be strong factors in the aliens’ self-imposed exile in the tower.
Of the M’threnni level of technological development, all that could reasonably be inferred was that it was extremely advanced, possibly beyond our-understanding. The gasglobes apparently worked their colour changes through some photosensitive process which could not be elucidated, while the black crystal absorbed light via complex sub-atomic interactions which were equally unfathomable.
“We are like children attempting to understand the workings of a radio set,” Jon told us. “We simply lack the sophistication of thought to grasp the complexities involved. Countless papers and articles have been written on the subject of the M’threnni, but they are all inconclusive. We are groping in the dark.”
It was true; I had read most of the literature which Jon had recommended and found only a web of incomprehension and blind speculation. As the course drew to its end, I began to realize that all my fond hopes of learning the secrets of the M’threnni were doomed to frustration.
By the time we gathered for the final seminar, the mood of anticlimax was manifest amongst those of us who remained in the class (five students had dropped out). John, however, appeared to be in a jaunty mood as he sat down at the head of the table.
“I can appreciate how disappointing the contents of this course must have been to you,” he told us, “but I offer no apologies. One cannot build elaborate theories on a shortage of facts. However, to conclude matters, I’d like to present you with a few speculations of my own—speculations which are probably as wildly inaccurate as anyone else’s but which may, at least, give you food for thought.
“Firstly, why did the M’threnni come to our aid? Because we are rational beings, a fellow intelligent species? Perhaps, but we must not presume that the M’threnni regard us as their peers. Their civilization is so far in advance of ours that it is more likely that they view us as we might a primitive society—with affection and curiosity, and worthy of preservation for its novelty value alone.
“Secondly, why is their aid so limited? Why do they not offer more direct help? Their reasons could be diplomatic—they are aware of the natural human fear of aliens—or cultural—they only want to keep the colony alive and not dictate its form—or ethnic—they may possess some racial instinct against direct intervention.
“Thirdly, why do the aliens maintain a presence on Gaia at all? Why not simply ferry in all goods automatically, as their technology would surely allow? We can only conclude that they wish to observe the progress of the colony at close quarters, to be in the midst of it, yet apart from it, Perhaps we are under constant scrutiny from the tower. The aliens may be looking into this room at this very moment.”
There was a murmur of disbelief which Jon quieted with a wave of his hand. “Remember the unimaginable sophistication of their technology. Animals are unaware of the presence of radio waves in the air. The M’threnni may be monitoring us by methods which we are equally unaware of.”
He waited a moment, then smiled broadly. “For what it’s worth, I consider that to be one of my wilder speculations.”
A few people shuffled with evident relief; it was not a pleasant thought.
“Finally,” Jon said, “what do the M’threnni hope to gain from this arrangement, if anything? My answer would be: they are simply entertained by it. I believe that our colony is, to the aliens, little more than a sophisticated zoo. At best, the aliens in the tower are the equivalent of anthropologists, studying the activities of a primitive species. Now admittedly this is not an ennobling idea, but we must not shy away from it because of that. Humanity is far too anthropocentric in its outlook; it’s time we learned a little humility.”
A contemplative silence ensued. John smiled ruefully, as if disappointed that his provocative views had not raised a stir. When it was clear that no one was going to speak, he said; “One question remains. Why do the M’threnni need the Voices? In the light of my preceding scenario, two possibilities suggest themselves. Perhaps the aliens simply desire human companions in the way that humans desire pets. Or it could be that the Voices function as laboratory specimens which the M’threnni can observe at close hand. Choose whichever seems preferable to you.”
I had remained silent through most of the course, afraid of showing too much curiosity in case Jon had been informed of my encounter with the M’threnni. He had shown no indication that this was the case, however, and I decided that the time was ripe to test my own hypothesis.
“It could be,” I said, “that the M’threnni restrict themselves to the tower for fear of exposing the human population to alien microbes. Perhaps the Voices are experimental animals in this sense. Perhaps the M’threnni are seeking to immunize humans against M’threnni diseases.”
Jon nodded his head reflectively.
“An interesting proposition, David,” he said. “But an unlikely one. There is simply no evidence to suggest that the M’threnni are carriers of organisms harmful to humanity. Indeed, at their level of development one can safely assume that they will have eliminated all native diseases.”
It was clear that Jon thought the idea preposterous, I said nothing further.
The seminar was near its end, and Jon began his conclusion. “Remember that most of what we have discussed today is pure speculation. It may be that it is impossible to attain an understanding of M’threnni motives in human terms, I spoke earlier of anthropocentric viewpoints, and these are precisely in what
I have been indulging myself. The M’threnni are the product of a different evolutionary process from us and it may be unreasonable to suppose that their preoccupations are similar to ours. All we can do is to try to imagine from human perspectives what their likely motivations are. As such, our vision is blinkered by the very apparatus which we use for our imaginings—the human brain.”
Autumn passed and gradually I grew more content. Wendi and I consolidated our relationship and by the end of the season we had begun to function as a couple in liaison, spending most of our free time together and eschewing copulation with others. On our free days we took to roaming the nooks and crannies of the city—all the places Annia, Jax and I had never deemed worthy of a visit (we had been tourists, content to seek out only the most obvious areas of interest). We would take a bus at random, getting off at the terminus and exploring our immediate surroundings for the remainder of the day. Helixport was a sprawling, loosely peopled city, continually changing its character from area to area. There were the heavily industrialized sectors of the north-east, the canal-laced regions of the west, the artists’ quarters on the fringes of the city centre, the casinos and pool halls on the rocky hills above the harbour. But the most interesting area to us became the South Bank of the city—primarily because it was so different from the rest of Helixport—and it was here that we spent most of our free time.
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