by Julian May
“One would have thought astral bodies would suffice,” said Asymptotic Essence, viewing the four upright forms askance. They were displayed in transparent cases extruded from the softly glowing green walls of the room: two male and two female bodies, alarmingly substantial.
“By the Prime Entelechy, but they’re ugly things!” said Eupathic Impulse. “Especially the males. And wouldn’t one know that Unifex—doubtless exerting Its famous sense of humor—would assign this entity to that sex!”
Noetic Concordance, the poet, said: “This entity agrees with its feminine designation, having once acted as creative matrix in the generation of a new Lylmik person, the dearly loved Resolute Mandament. This event took place in Fa-Time, and the coercive instigator was none other than Homologous Trend.”
“One admits having forgotten this fact,” Eupathic Impulse said.
“Well, so did this entity,” said Homologous Trend.
They all laughed.
Lylmik reproduction had ceased in Ti-Time, more than eight Galactic revolutions ago. It was generally agreed by the absentminded historians of the race that the tragedy had nevertheless had the happy consequent of initiating the Outreach from the Lylmik Twenty-one Worlds, which eventually led to the establishment of the Galactic Milieu and the beginning of coadunate mental evolution in the Milky Way.
“The long-ago reproductive event explains why Trend was assigned male and Concordance assigned female sex,” said the logician, Asymptotic Essence. “But why is this entity, which has never acted as creative matrix, designated female? And why is Impulse, similarly innocent of coercive generation, called male?”
Concordance said, “Unifex contemplated our personalities when making Its sexual determinations. One presumes that Its selection is in some way justified.”
“Oh, indubitably justified,” Impulse said, displaying a tinge of exasperation. “It has certainly worn the human material form often enough on Its own Earthside perambulations—to the scandal of the entities here present. One might wonder whether honoring magnified Earthlings at the Concilium inauguration constitutes Its sole motivation in foisting these fleshy envelopes upon us.”
The other three entities scoffed merrily at their colleague’s misgivings. But then they resumed examination of the bodies themselves, and felt their confidence waver. The things were so dismayingly solid. Omega knew what would happen when one actually put a body on …
The individual Lylmik mind was normally invested upon the most diaphanous material substance, all but imperceptible to the physical sensing organs of Krondaku, Poltroyans, Simbiari, and Humanity. Only members of the hyperkeen Gi could readily differentiate the wispy molecules hosting the Lylmik psyche from those of the inanimate atmosphere. On occasions when, for courtesy’s sake, a visible presence was called for, Lylmik were accustomed to assume illusory astral bodies of varying form. What Unifex was now asking of the Supervisors was something far more radical.
“Regard the lumpish, sinewy feet,” Impulse declaimed. “The unsightly blemish of the umbilical scar. The vestigial pelt, with its inconvenient facial lushness in the male and the odd little patches here and there on the torsos of both sexes. Some of those ridiculous hirsute regions have associated apocrine glands, with secretions that will surely stink once the atmospheric bacteria get to work on them.”
The other three entities cringed.
Impulse was taking a melancholy relish in its catalog of infelicities. “Note especially the inelegant design of the male reproductive organs—tacked on almost as an afterthought without regard to the artistic composition as a whole, vulnerable to injury, kinetically awkward—”
“One wears garments,” Trend said. “We shall certainly do so at the inauguration, since this is the human custom.”
Asymptotic Essence noted gently, “We are procrastinating. Shall we pluck up our courage and perform the experiment?”
“Yes,” said the others.
And in an instant, the transparent cases dissolved and the bodies lived and breathed as the four Lylmik Supervisors became incarnate as moderately youthful men and women who were neither excessively beautiful nor noticeably plain. They were of differing racial stock, and the only indication of their exotic nature was the inhumanly brilliant aquamarine color of their eyes.
High thoughts to you, colleagues—and congratulations! You all look splendid.
“Unifex!”
Uneasy giggles filled the chamber. Eupathic Impulse discovered, to his horror, that an involuntary vasodilation had turned his pinkish face and countenance bright red.
The Lylmik overlord said, “The phenomenon is harmless, even susceptible to mental override. Let me pass on to you all certain physiological information that will assist adaptation.” [Data.]
Impulse’s blush faded as he applied the program that Unifex had transmitted. “One is thankful for that knowledge. And might one inquire which human form you will assume for the inauguration?”
“I think this one would be safest,” said Unifex. There was a brief flash, and the overlord stood before them in the shape of a white-haired, white-bearded, powerfully built older man, taller than his colleagues, with deep-set gray eyes. “And let’s have clothes for everyone.” Another flash; and they all wore long tunics and softly flowing overrobes of different subtle colors. “It is fitting, perhaps, that we have a little practice session now.”
“Very well,” said the others.
Unifex was abruptly businesslike. “Then let us deal with the intelligence vouchsafed by Evaluator Throma’eloo Lek. If we were truly human, we would be seated during our consultation.”
A round golden table and five matching chairs appeared. Unifex plumped himself down with careless familiarity, and the other four followed his example, with more circumspection.
“The Krondak Evaluator presents us with two very disquieting pieces of information,” Unifex said, having instantly digested a synopsis proffered by the minds of his fellows. “The first involves a suspicion that the mind of the youth Marc Remillard, and perhaps also the minds of his father, Paul, and certain other senior Remillards involved in this investigation, have been able to resist mind-probes of the most stringent type. One questions whether the boy may be guilty of the murder of his mother and great-granduncle, and whether the father and his siblings may be conspiring to conceal the crimes of the son—or, less likely, may even be accomplices in those crimes.”
“Shall we join in Quincunx to consider?” Trend asked. “It would take only moments to farscan the entire planet Earth and ascertain the whereabouts of the physical bodies of Teresa Kendall and Rogatien Remillard—whether or not they are still alive.”
“It isn’t necessary,” said Unifex. “I will tell you flatly that Teresa and Rogi are alive. For reasons that I decline to share at the moment, we will not inform the Magistratum of this fact, nor will we transmit to it any new data concerning Marc Remillard’s complicity in the disappearance of the pair. The boy is a technical violator of certain Milieu statutes, but he has not committed murder or any other crime that need concern us. His peccadilloes have justification in the Larger Reality and can be ignored for now. We can tell the Earth authorities to keep an eye on Marc, however, to see that he doesn’t get into any more scrapes before the Human Polity joins the Concilium.”
Eupathic Impulse was struggling to subdue his rising indignation. “May one inquire just how you formed this amazing judgment?”
“No,” said Unifex.
“One objects! One is miffed in the extreme!”
Asymptotic Essence laid her hand upon the shoulder of her inflamed colleague and let calming redactive power flow through it. She said to Unifex, “We accept your reassurance, as we have accepted it so many other times, on good faith alone. But we regret that you do not feel inclined to confide in us.”
Unifex shrugged. “In time, it will all be clarified … The second matter for consideration is the psychic vampirism implicit in the death of Intendant Associate Brett Doyle McAllister.” He
hesitated, and his high brow creased in a deep frown. “I have no input to contribute in this case. I suggest that we leave the matter in the capable hands and tentacles of the Magistratum. I am certain that there will be a satisfactory resolution, in time, and the perpetrator of the crime will be brought to justice.”
Homologous Trend studied his own new hands. The fingers had interlaced, and the thumbs were busily twiddling. “You do not then foresee any barrier to the inauguration of the seven Remillards, in view of the grave questions raised by these two cases? Both Throma’eloo and Chief Enforcer Malatarsiss had deep reservations about the family’s fitness for magnification. They even suggested that we might wish to consider postponing the termination of the Simbiari Proctorship and refrain from granting humanity autonomy and Milieu citizenship at this time.”
Asymptotic Essence said, “There is a strong sentiment among Simbiari and Krondak magnates for continued oversight. For at least a one-year probationary period of the Human Polity Magnates of the Concilium and a moratorium on colonization of new planets by humanity. One intuits that the potential for metapsychic calamity still lurks within the Mind of this highly renitent people.”
Trend, Impulse, and Concordance nodded in agreement.
Unifex declared: “Friends, there are destined to be scandals and disasters whenever Human Polity affairs touch those of the Milieu. What happens must happen! But in the end Unity will prevail out of chaos, I assure you of that. The Simbiari Proctorship must now end, and inauguration of humanity into the Concilium must proceed. One does accept the one-year probation period and the planetary moratorium. We’ll wait a few days and then break it to the Earthlings tactfully. I want any resentment over our action to have largely dwindled away before the majority of the Magnate-Designates begin to assemble here in Orb. We wouldn’t want to cast a pall over the festivities.”
The others bowed. “Very well. We will transmit this judgment to the authorities on Earth.”
Unifex rose from his seat and gestured. Five containers of foaming amber liquid sprang into being, one in front of each entity. “Let me introduce you to another human tradition—the cup of fellowship. On important occasions, one proposes a sentiment devoutly to be wished and drinks to it. I shall do the honors: To the magnification betimes of the Galactic Milieu—and all six of its Polities!” He lifted his glass and drained it, then uttered a deep sigh. The others sipped dutifully.
“Well, I must be off,” Unifex said. “We shall meet again at the inauguration! Do work out a bit with your new bodies between now and then, won’t you? You will want to be at ease with their physical senses, voices, muscles, and other material paraphernalia before manifesting yourselves before the entire Concilium.” Unifex’s smile was a trifle sardonic. “There will be a bit of a commotion when we appear this way, you realize. One will want to be prepared. And now I bid you farewell.”
There was again a flash as the overlord’s human-body molecules disassembled and were dispersed into the matter-energy lattices.
The four sat for some time, drinking the beverage and contemplating. Finally Noetic Concordance said, “I perceived from the vestibular mind of Unifex that this liquid is called Labatt’s beer. I rather enjoy the mild euphoria induced by the small alcoholic content. It diminishes anxiety impulses in the primitive human brain in a manner remotely analogous to the consolations of the Unity. Let’s have some more.”
Four full glasses appeared.
“Really!” Eupathic Impulse was slightly reproving, but not to the extent that he refused the second round.
Homologous Trend shared a more serious thought. “Unifex virtually conceded that the Remillard father and son did manage to deceive the Magistratum interrogators. We may note that the redactive examination of the other adult Remillard siblings was similarly inconclusive. The whole lot of them are probably capable of encrypting their secret thoughts.” He raised his half-empty glass and watched the small bubbles rising in it. “It is worrisome that human operant metapsychics are revealed to be so strong-minded before being safely coadunated and drawn into the Unity.”
Asymptotic Essence said, “We have been assured again and again by Unifex that humans have the highest mental potential of any race in the Galaxy. Why should we be surprised that truly grandmasterclass minds appear among them somewhat early in the psychoevolutionary sequence?”
“What is the coadunate number for humans anyhow?” asked Impulse. “One forgets these trivial details.”
“Ten thousand million minds,” said Homologous Trend. “They have seven and a half now. The race had nearly outstripped the planetary resources just prior to Intervention, and births had dropped drastically. Now, with the fresh population upsurge on the colonial planets, one projects coadunation around the year La Prime 1-390-150—what humans would call A.D. 2083.”
“No time at all,” Asymptotic Essence mused. She conjured her glass full again, and at a nod from Eupathic Impulse, replenished his also.
“One cannot help but think of the thousands upon thousands of evolving worlds that have passed under Lylmik scrutiny during the life of the Milieu. So many sapient lifeforms, obedient to the evolutionary paradigm, rising inevitably from biosludge to transcendent self-awareness—yet almost all of them doomed to dead-end at the precoadunate level through technological misadventure or natural disaster. Five victories in seven hundred and thirty Galactic millenaries! It seems so wasteful …”
“Evolution is wasteful,” Trend said austerely, “if one is impatient for Omega. One would do better to look at the diminishing temporal interval between the achievement of coadunation by the five successful races. And if humanity does not falter, it will have matured its Mind the fastest of any. Perhaps we hover upon the brink of a veritable metapsychic explosion amongst ascendant intelligent races.”
“Do you imply that the Human Polity might have a pivotal role to play in this problematic mental efflorescence?” Impulse did not bother to conceal his skepticism as he created a fourth beer.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to go out on a limb,” Trend hedged.
Impulse tossed down his drink and plunked the glass firmly on the golden table. Essence refilled it again. “My prolepsis hints that the Earthlings are more likely to foment disaster than they are to accelerate progress! They’re wily, that’s what they are. Wily!” He finished his fifth glass.
“There will be only a hundred of them raised to the Concilium,” Trend pointed out. “How much trouble can they cause, being so greatly outnumbered in the vote?” His mind displayed:
Krondak votes 3460
Poltroyan votes 2741
Simbiari votes 503
Gi votes 430
Human votes 100
Lylmik votes
(with veto power) 21
“We may just find out too late what Humanity is capable of!” Impulse exclaimed. “Don’t say one wasn’t warned!” He gave a sudden start, then looked down in surprise into his lap. “Oh! The body! What’s it doing? Colleagues, help! This appendage has acquired a terrible will of its own …”
Trend got up, took his fellow male by the arm, and hurried him toward the door. He said reassuringly, “I have analyzed the phenomenon. You’ve simply had a bit too much to drink, and it produces this odd physiological effect. Don’t be concerned. All one has to do is—”
The door slid shut.
Noetic Concordance and Asymptotic Essence exchanged glances.
“Perhaps we should take our bodies off,” Essence suggested.
Concordance smiled. “In a little while. But first I think I shall take the tube to the observation lounge and look out at the stars with my eyes. Would you care to accompany me?”
“It would be an interesting experience. Perhaps we can invite the boys to join us.”
Laughing, the two Lylmik women finished their drinks, adjusted their garments so that the folds fell harmoniously, and went out into the teeming Central Promenade of the administrative center. There were already fair numbers of Human Polity bur
eaucrats residing in Concilium Orb in anticipation of the inauguration, so no one took any particular notice of the pair as they strolled slowly along, chatting, and keeping their peculiar eyes modestly downcast.
14
FROM THE MEMOIRS OF ROGATIEN REMILLARD
ON THE MORNING AFTER OUR ARRIVAL AT APE LAKE I WOKE shortly after dawn, left Teresa sleeping in the tent, and walked up the misty meadow to the margin of the woodland, where there was a fine view of the pale, eerie lake waters below. And there I seemed to feel the huge resonances of the place envelop me. I, the interloping alien tuning fork, was being urged to synchronize myself with the country’s telluric vibrations—or even to sing, as Teresa had instinctively done, blending into the enormous and subtle harmony of lake and mountains and glaciers and the indomitable plants and creatures of the place.
Do not oppose, the soul of Ape Lake seemed to say, do not impose. Only abide.
I began to walk.
The grass was dew-drenched. The sun was still concealed behind the eastern ridge; but behind me, the hanging glacier of soaring Mount Jacobsen was a dazzling white shelf, poised above us like a line of frozen surf. I came to the steep creek trail that led down to the lakeshore. The stream was tiny, splashing through dark gray strata of shale or some other kind of mudstone that had cracked into thin slabs, oddly tilted to a vertical position by an ancient seismic convulsion. The pure cold stream, sliced apart scores of times by sharp blades of rock, almost seemed to sparkle with satisfaction when it reunited at last in a small cascading sheet and fell gently into the pool at the rock-strewn shore.
I strolled along the lake’s edge for a short distance, then stood receptive and relaxed beside the expanse of calm milky water, listening with my mind’s ear. I am not a poet, not a sensitive; I have never experienced cosmic consciousness, never joined in a true coadunation of minds, never experienced even the least hint of those awesome precursors to Unity that the young operants of the modern, post-Rebellion Human Polity yearn after and mind-whisper about.