Super-State

by By Brian Aldiss

  Almost without thought, he opened a door and dashed in. It was a linen cupboard.

  Next morning, at five minutes to seven, a chambermaid discovered two dead bodies in her cupboard. Knives protruded from the ribs of both. Their blood had stained all her beautifully ironed and folded pillowcases and duvets. Small wonder she screamed.

  The screams were hardly likely to be heard by Gustave de Bourcey. He was in Honolulu, attending a summit meeting.

  * * * *

 
  Supposing an area of China is destroyed by earthquake, or an area of Britain inundated by severe flooding, or an area of the USA stricken by forest fires. These matters may be reported for several days, while there is drama to be squeezed from them. Then, when the novelty has worn off, the helicopters retire and the interviewers and commentators go home.

  We are not shown the aftermath: the areas dried out and livestock reinstated, or the flood-damaged houses rebuilt, or the charred forest areas replanted. These matters do not touch us. It is disaster that propitiates our famished psyches.>

  * * * *

  The Stromeyer family were naturally anxious. The latest news they had received of Alexy was broadcast when he was standing on the ice floes of a small satellite of a giant planet that was six hundred and twenty-eight thousand kilometres away, moving at an orbital speed of over thirteen kilometres per second. They felt they had every right to be anxious.

  All members of the family were due to gather in the paternal apartment in an hour’s time: Belinda Mironets with her husband Ivan, and their small boy, Boy, and Joseph Stromeyer, being respectively Ruth and Paulus’s daughter, son-in-law, with their son, and son. Ruth and Rebecca were in the kitchen, baking cakes and preparing a feast.

  Paulus remained in his study till the last moment, struggling with his boims and serds. On his wall he had pinned a remark made by Bertrand Russell in a letter to a ladylove:

  I simply can’t stand a view limited to this Earth. I feel life is so small unless it has windows into other worlds . . . I like mathematics largely because it is not human and has nothing particular to do with this planet or with the whole accidental universe—because, like Spinoza’s God, it won’t love us in return.

  Russell had written this in 1912.While Paulus applauded the sentiment, he was endeavouring to develop precisely a system which would have something in particular to do with the world, and to love the world in return.

  He was at an impasse. He called his friend Barnard Cleeping in Utrecht and burst straight into what was on his mind.

  ‘Barnard, exactly what objective independence from the mind do mathematical formulations possess? I have become entangled in that philosophical problem and cannot progress. 1 cannot sustain a formulation proving conclusively that the methodology of mathematics is innate in what we call the taxonomy of organisms.’

  Cleeping’s voice sounded stifled. ‘You’d have to go to Cantor and infinite numbers for an answer, Paulus. Sorry, I can’t help at present.’

  ‘Do you have a cold?’

  Silence from Cleeping’s end. Then he said, ‘I’m only just out of hospital, if you must know. And I’m feeling wretched, Paulus. You know that poor fellow I spoke up for in court?’

  ‘The Muslim. What about him?’

  ‘He’s just been found stabbed to death. Police aren’t saying where exactly. Such a good young man.’

  ‘Good young men don’t usually get themselves stabbed.’

  Paulus rang off, and went to greet his family. They pressed in, uttering cheery greetings. He gave a special hug, a bear hug, to his younger son, Joe. Joe had a responsible job in non-invasive surgery at a Naples hospital. Paulus always knew that Joe — not a man with a great deal of drive — felt eclipsed by Alexy, his extraordinary brother.

  ‘How are things?’

  ‘Fine, Dad, fine.’ That was all he said, giving a sort of wry smile.

  Paulus heard his father coming down the stairs from his room, slowly, one step at a time. He went to help, but halted at the bottom of the stairs when Moshe said rather pettishly that he needed no assistance.

  ‘The family are here, Father. We are all expecting to hear from Alexy.’

  ‘Who is Alexy?’

  ‘Your grandson, Father. The astronaut. He’s on Europa.’

  ‘Of course he is. Terrible weather we’re having, mmm. Most of France is under water.’

  ‘Yes, but this is Europa. A satellite of Jupiter.’

  ‘Good, good. I am not hearing too well. Excellent. Discovered by Galileo Galilei, I understand. And there are some people who still believe the Sun goes round the Earth, poor ignorant fools.’

  He made his shaky way to an armchair. ‘People don’t communicate properly these days.’

  Belinda, Ivan, their Boy and Joe had arrived in a group. Ruth and Rebecca were still doing a jovial round of embraces, amid general kissings and demonstrations of affection. Ivan loaded Ruth with pale pink roses; she squealed with pleasure. Belinda gave Paulus a box of after-dinner mints. Joe brought his sister the latest Rose Baywater novel, Not a Day Less Than For Ever.

  ‘It’s a bit intellectual for you, darling,’ he said, teasing her.

  Rebecca opened the book at random and read aloud. ‘ “The clouds were like scratches in the blue sky ... As I lay in my husband’s arms, with my flesh pressing against his, as he gazed into my grey eyes, I reflected on how happy he must feel to be so close to such a beautiful and clever woman. But was George sensitive enough to really appreciate me?’“

  Everyone roared with laughter. Said Rebecca, still laughing, ’And to think that we were one of the publishers who turned down this lady’s first manuscript. Why, it’s Tolstoi in skirts!’

  Ruth brought a tray full of cakes and tarts from the kitchen, and everyone exclaimed with delight. Paulus was looking again at his watch. It was past time for the report from theRoddenberry.

  Moshe remained silent, although he ate a slice of lemon drizzle cake, shedding crumbs as he went. There were tea and white wine on offer. Moshe sipped a glass of the wine before struggling into a more upright posture.

  ‘Just be quiet a minute, children,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you all seriously. Your mum and I think you should know something about sex.’

  They all stopped talking and stared in astonishment at the old man.

  It was Ivan who said, ‘Look, Pop, we are adult, we know all about sex. Linda and I practise it regularly.’

  Belinda added, ’So we do, though not regularly enough.’

  Moshe said, ‘I appreciate that I should have given you this lecture some years ago, when you were smaller. Still, better late than never, mmm. At least we can take it that you know the difference between — what do you call it? — between male and female . . .’

  Joe asked his mother, ‘Is Gramps pulling our various legs?’

  Ruth patted Moshe’s shoulder. ‘Moshe, dear, this is going to be too embarrassing.’

  ‘I want to be sure you understand, my pet, mmm.’ He wiped some saliva from his chin. ‘Now, when I put my old fellow — my “Artful Dodger”, as I tend to call it — into your mum, mmm, I project a lot of sperm in her which she immediately places in her womb. These sperms, which you can think of as little tiny fish, if you like, or what do you call it? — tadpoles, then swim upstream and get to Mum’s ovaries and—’

  Paulus took one of his father’s hands, telling him gently that his mind was wandering.

  ‘Why don’t you hear him out?’ said Rebecca, suppressing a smile. ‘I think he wants to get to the spiritual bit.’

  ‘There’s nothing spiritual about it, dear, mmm,’ Moshe said. ‘All one wants is a good shag. Now, as to the best position, Mummy and I rather—’

  ‘He’s rambling,’ Ruth said. ‘Paulus, please
stop him. Take him upstairs.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a bit much.’ Joe had always tended to support his mother, and was not going to let a chance escape him now. ‘Do shut him up, Pop.’

  ‘— Enjoyed lying side by side. Although, when we were first married — well, before that, really — we tried all sorts of positions. I remember once getting your mum over the bonnet of my old Volvo. No, no, not Mum, that was a girl called Suzanne, mmm. I think it was Suzanne. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. And not only my hands—’

  ‘Paulus! This is degrading for him and for us,’ said Ruth. ‘Do stop him, please. It’s beastly.’

  Paulus stood there indecisively, stunned and horrified by the collapse of his father’s decorum.

  Belinda was saying, ‘No, let him go on, Dad. It’s fascinating. He’s gone completely bonkers.’

  Moshe suddenly looked up. Speaking directly to his son, he said, ‘I’m trying to teach them the facts of life. I know they’re all grown up but even small boys long to look up girls’ skirts, and get their hands up there if they can. For a good feel, mmm. The interest in the bodies of the other sex is only natural, and can form—’

  ‘Stop it, Father!’ said Ruth. ‘You are rambling. You don’t know what you’re saying. Go upstairs at once.’

  He looked up at her, pathetic and bemused. ‘But, Suzanne, don’t you remember—’

  ‘It’s all right, Father,’ said Paulus. ‘Everything is fine. Let me help you upstairs. I’ll carry your wine glass. You can watch the next episode of History of Western Science.’

  As they left the room, the others looked at each other gloomily, pulling long faces. Ruth hid her eyes behind her hands, ‘I shouldn’t have been angry with him. It’s Alzheimer’s, isn’t it? I’m sure it’s Alzheimer’s . . .’

  Rebecca put her arms round her mother and hugged her, saying nothing.

  When Paulus came downstairs again there was still no message from the Roddenberry.

  * * * *

  ‘This is BBC Digital on 193 MHz. We are still awaiting a signal from the crew of theRoddenberry on Europa.

  ‘While we wait, here is a chance to see again Professor Daniel Potts’s challenging and topical lecture which he entitled “Solitude So Far”. It was first shown in January of this year.

  ‘Professor Potts.’

  [A montage of cartoon characters followed. Mice, cats, talking elephants, dogs, partly dressed horses sped across the screen, followed by female warrior creatures with large metallic breasts battling bravely through computer games.

  Potts appeared, walking down a long VR corridor.] ‘It transpires that almost everyone believes in forms of alien life. Governments investigate UFO phenomena, major movies depict visits between planets, where exist strange bipeds, either harmless or, more likely, well armed.

  ‘Non-human life is the irregular verb of the human mind. We are drawn in love and fear — and always have been—towards something living but not quite like us.

  ‘For this trait there is a phylogenetic reason. Deep in our brains lives a memory of when we as a species were hardly distinct from other related sub-species or even animals, and dressed ourselves in their skins. The human/animal relationship was closer than city dwellers can ever imagine.

  [Computerised images here were especially vivid.] ‘As we know, there remains much of the ape in us. Regrettably, I am now too old to climb trees. That early boyhood pleasure was as much part of phylogeny as ontology. Just as what passes as cute is the atavism whereby parents dress their babies in hoods with ears, turning them into mice, rabbits or bears — or other mammals which have accompanied us along the evolutionary escalator. Our constant invention of the Unknown, the Other, has deep roots.

  [The pictures hanging on the wall of the corridor were alive, and showed a succession of the absurd quadrupeds to which Potts referred.]

  ‘Those roots tap into the mental soil, grown presumably before the dawning of human consciousness. With the subject of consciousness now under scrutiny, we see how slowly intellectual awareness has developed.

  ‘We may ask ourselves if the human species has yet achieved full consciousness. Using the analogy of a light bulb, we can wonder if the bulb has yet reached maximum wattage. For many of us, fantasising is easier than thinking constructively. [The image of a light bulb spluttered out.] ‘One of our overriding fantasies is a persistent vision of the alien, of something like us but certainly not us.

  ‘Just picture all those beings patently without existence, in which nevertheless humanity has believed at one time or another — often for decades, even centuries. [These beings began a grotesque parade, advancing from the distance into the eye of the camera.]

  ‘Heavens, what a population explosion of mythical persons! Creatures with goat’s feet, persons half-human half-bull, people with snakes growing out of their heads, fairies, elves, goblins, gnomes, trolls, leprechauns, skeletons, the walking dead, werewolves, ghosts of various sorts, demons, devils, angels, spirits, sprites, doppelgangers, dragons, werewolves and vampires.

  ‘Vampires share with Jesus Christ the advantage of a life after death.

  ‘The list of such discomfiting supernatural beings is almost endless. They materialise from the sky, the sea, the woodwork. Most of those I have mentioned could not speak — a clear indication that they emerge from our limbic brain. The limbic brain knows only images, not language.

  [Ominous music, sonorous and nervy sounds.]

  ‘Ranking above these minor-league conjurations of alien life, and above humanity, comes a more troublesome cast of imaginary non-humans: the gods and goddesses that have plagued human life throughout the ages.

  ‘Here’s old Silenus with his satyrs and attendant woodland deities. Bacchus, god of wine, is popular. In the north, in Scandinavia, there were Ymin, god of numbing cold, and Thor, whose name lives on in our weekdays and our comics. Mithras, stony-faced soldiers’ god. Ishtar, the terrifying Babylonian goddess of fertility. Hindu gods a-plenty — Shiva, the great destroyer, his icing-pink wife, Parvati, dancing on her lotus leaf. Seth, embodiment of evil. Countless more swarming deities: the law-givers, the punishers, the handsome, the horrendous. [Fantastic pictures of them all, passing with what dignity they could muster.]

  ‘Some of these deities come adorned with skulls and serpents, or armed with lightning bolts and swords. Some have a monkey face, an elephant head, or the skull of an ibis. Many formulate impossible rules for human conduct. They tell us what we should not eat or with whom we should not sleep.

  ‘Oh, it’s easy to regard this troupe as simply amusing. But never forget — wars were fought, human and animal blood flowed, for this imaginary crowd! What terrible delusions were suffered!

  ‘Some of these miserable conjurations sprout long white beards, some change shape and form, some are blue in the face, some black of body. Some take the form of bulls, or are presided over by cobras. Some consort with smartly dressed hyenas. As for extra arms, breasts, heads, lingams, they are almost commonplace.

  ‘Uncounted generations of people much like us worshipped them, died for them.

  ‘Where have they come from? All of them have emanated from a porridgy substance shaped almost like a giant walnut— the human brain, with its neoteric consciousness.

  [Here we are walking calmly through a many-pillared temple.]

  ‘I take comfort from the words of a Buddhist priest in Kyoto, who put the whole matter in a nutshell: “God is an invention of Man. So the nature of God is only a shallow mystery. The deep mystery is the nature of Man.”

  [But above the temple hangs a mighty spaceship.]

  ‘The latest gang of imaginary unthinkables to be visited upon us are aliens from outer space. We watch them on our various-sized screens. They may come from special effects, but their true home is in the brain, the amygdala, or elsewhere in that clowning gory we carry in our skulls.

  ‘Many sensible people claim that there is scientific reason for belief in aliens. We now have ufologists among us, reasonable m
en — we hope they prosper like astrologists. My contention — reasonable enough — is that UFOs are a later version of those imaginary unthinkables we have been looking at. Elder gods and godlets have been brought up to date, to be clad in the benefits of modern technology.

  ‘Now a welter of aliens has descended on us, some for reasons of morality, some just for entertainment. Which is to say, bloodletting and destruction. [Suitable clips pass us by.]

  ‘So it is that (pace Winnie the Pooh) aliens and dinosaurs have become the kiddies’ favourites. However, the scientific standing of aliens and dinosaurs is by no means equal. Dr Gideon Mantell’s young wife Mary Mantell took a walk in 1822 and found a fossil tooth, later identified by her husband as belonging to an iguanadon. Painstaking investigations and research by experts over the past two centuries have firmly established the existence of the giant reptiles of the Jurassic, within a context of earth’s history