by Isaac Asimov
So when he arrived on station, he was surprised to see Sarco there ahead of him, circling in Synapo’s space, hook set aggressively forward.
Although it was virtually unheard of and highly unethical to communicate political matters by radio, Neuronius must have done just that, radiating Synapo’s defeat for all to hear, while Synapo, in shock, had his sensory equipment shut down. Else why would Sarco be up here already, contesting Synapo’s dominance?
So, indeed, it had been a conspiracy; and it involved not only Sarco and Neuronius, but Axonius as well.
Synapo ignored Sarco, and with his hook set aggressively forward, he winged Sarco out of the way and took up his station in a tight circle immediately over the center of the compensator.
“What’s up?” Sarco said, meekly yielding the space. “You don’t seem happy.”
Synapo said nothing.
“What happened down there?” Sarco asked again, putting more insistence into his voice.
“You should know,” Synapo finally said. “One of your Cerebron toadies has already radioed you.”
“What are you talking about? Nobody has radioed anything; and I can’t stand toadies, least of all a Cerebron.”
“Neuronius? What about Neuronius?”
“Neuronius coached me in pronunciation of the alien language. Does that make the poor soul a toady?”
“Poor soul, my hook. He was just trying to stir up trouble between you and me; if you somehow don’t relish that idea, then he was using you, Sarco, and you must be exceedingly naive.”
“I must admit I thought it was an elegant idea, using your second in command to advantage in our rivalry. But, Synapo, it has always been a friendly rivalry.”
“Neuronius is striking, Sarco. And with Axonius on his side. Why do you think I took them both with me and excluded you rather unceremoniously?”
“Frankly, I didn’t know, and you didn’t appear to want to explain. So what did happen down there?”
“Neuronius made a wrong decision involving the aliens, I reversed him, and Axonius sided with him. It was as simple as that.”
“That doesn’t sound like Axonius, Synapo. Give me the details. You three have involved all the Myocerons. You can’t expect me to sit idly on the sidelines.”
“Axonius had you fooled as well, eh?”
With that slight dig, Synapo proceeded to describe the meeting in detail. Before the end of the long account, Sarco had rotated his hook so that it pointed passively aft, expressing silently but eloquently whose side he was on.
When Synapo finished, Sarco asked, “When are you having your caucus?”
Synapo had put off that decision until Sarco prodded him. His mind had been so paralyzed he had not worked out a plan of action during his slow climb to station.
“One hour from now,” he replied, making a quick decision.
“I hereby exercise my right as leader of the Myostria,” Sarco said, “and proclaim that caucus to be a joint gathering, a Cerebron caucus and a Myostrian hearing. Please announce it as such to your people, and I will do the same for mine.”
It was an historic occasion. A joint gathering of the elite of both tribes was something that occurred only once a decade or so, if that often.
In an ordinary Cerebron caucus, Synapo would be on station circling lazily above the center of the compensator in a large, loose circle with the other members of the Cerebron elite flying to right and left, above and below, a wingspread apart.
In the larger assembly of a joint gathering, however, the flight caucus was not compatible with clear and audible communication, so a grounded gathering was held on the high crags atop The Cliff of Time — a ninety-meter escarpment that cut across the intersection of The Plain of Serenity and The Forest of Repose eight kilometers to the northeast of the robot city and its node compensator.
Synapo, with his hook set forward, stood on the highest crag while the other ten members of the Cerebron elite stood below, facing him in a line on a slightly tilted table of flat granite. Their hooks were all set aft.
Neuronius stood in the middle of the line immediately below Synapo, Axonius stood to his right, the next in rank stood to the left of Neuronius, and the other members of the Cerebron elite stood right and then left in descending order of rank in the hierarchy.
Sarco, with his hook set aft, stood on a nearby crag on Synapo’s right, above the same rock table, with his elite gathered below him in similar fashion and within easy earshot of Synapo.
In addition to Sarco, there were fourteen other members of the Myostrian elite. It had been temporarily expanded to handle the increased load imposed by construction of the huge node that compensated the weather effects of the robot city.
“As you all now know,” Synapo said, opening the joint gathering, “we are in a strike situation, not only at the highest command level in the Cerebron elite, but with regard to our world in general, for in all fairness, we must regard the invasion by the aliens as a strike for cohabitation of a world which we have previously regarded as strictly our own.
“To regard the presence of the aliens in any other fashion is not to give them their just due, for we cohabit now with many lower forms of life. The aliens may simply be another inferior species seeking peaceful coexistence.
“On the other hand, that may not be so. We must consider the possibility that we are seeing a superior race and may be bargaining from a disadvantageous position, trying then to retain cohabitation rights ourselves.
“The Cerebron elite and the leader of the Myostria were all familiar with this philosophy of negotiation and with the details of the discussion that had already taken place as we undertook further discussion with the aliens this morning.
“By this morning, however, it had come to my attention that Neuronius was striking for command, so we entered this latest meeting with the aliens under slightly different circumstances.
“If conditions were appropriate, it behooved me to give Neuronius his chance to prove competent in command, to possibly prove superior competence in our continual striving to avoid the pitfalls that beset a governmental hierarchy described by Petero’s Principle.
“The Cerebron caucus has been called this afternoon to judge that competence, while remembering our delicate situation with regard to our cohabitation with aliens.”
Synapo then summarized the discussion with the aliens that had taken place that morning up to the point when he had turned over control of the negotiations to Neuronius.
After calling upon Neuronius to defend his response to the aliens’ proposal, Synapo sailed down to the table rock to stand a pace in front of Neuronius, who then sidled out from behind Synapo, and with an awkward hop and a powerful flap of his wings, arrived at the position on the topmost crag that Synapo had just vacated.
“Cerebrons, your challenge this afternoon is not just a matter of judging day-to-day competence of command. The matter is far larger than that. You must also judge competence in assessing and establishing the rank of the Ceremyons in a galactic hierarchy that includes the invading aliens.”
His body language radiated confidence, even arrogance.
“There are many facets of superiority of one race with respect to another, but the fact of most concern to us should be whether we are superior enough to eject the aliens from our planet. All else is the weak juice of the soft, degenerate culture Synapo would have us embrace.
“That summarizes the results of my cerebrations, and I responded accordingly. There is no point in subjecting you to useless rhetoric. I told the aliens that we could no longer tolerate their presence on our planet and terminated the negotiations.”
Synapo was stunned for the second time that day. That last was a brazen lie. He, Synapo, had terminated the negotiations that morning. For Neuronius to lead the caucus to believe otherwise was to presume the outcome of the forthcoming vote.
Neuronius paused for just a moment and then continued, “However, I did not tell the aliens how I propose to insure their remov
al. Threats merely alert the enemy and eliminate the element of surprise.
“But to this caucus I suggest — and strongly recommend — that we immediately remove them the way one of their number accidentally and effectively removed himself from our world — when he blindly ran into the edge of an embryonic compensator.”
Neuronius paused for a moment. Then he dramatically rotated his hook forward.
“I suggest we ship them all into the black eternity that lies beyond space and time, where those two part company in the bowels of a node compensator.”
Neuronius stood silently on the crag for a moment, and then sailed down to the table rock and waddled back to his place in the line behind Synapo.
For a while the silence was disturbed only by Neuronius, by the rustle of his wings and the soft slap of his feet against the table rock as he moved to resume his position in the line.
Finally, when even those sounds were complete, the only thing to be heard was the soft sigh of excess oxygen being vented here and there among the assembly.
Synapo was appalled by the suggestion, so disconcerted he had a hard time taking it in.
Finally, he spoke again from his position on the table rock.
“Axonius, I appoint you temporary Chairman of the Caucus, for the purpose of stating your position, taking other statements from any who may care to speak, and finally tallying the Vote on Superior Competence.”
That was the standard statement to make at that point in the proceedings; and that was fortunate, for he could not have trusted himself to say anything else after Neuronius had presented such a quixotic solution to the alien problem.
Axonius now flew up to the topmost crag.
Neuronius had impaled Axonius on the horns of a terrible dilemma, unless Synapo had completely misjudged the younger Cerebron. Axonius was an opportunist — that had become clear that morning — but he was not a killer.
Synapo knew exactly what was going through Axonius’s mind and could sympathize with him and feel his anguish — a terrible anguish his body language clearly bespoke: the flicker in his eyes, the slight flutter of his cold-junction, the tight way he was hugging his wings to his body.
Axonius was finished. The only way he could possibly save his position in the elite after the foolhardy position he had taken that morning was to vote for Neuronius and hope that he would win. Yet he was a gentle being and could not honorably endorse the violence recommended by Neuronius. He had misjudged Neuronius, and now he would have to pay the terrible penalty for that unfortunate error.
Synapo wondered how well Axonius would handle it. He wanted to see him unbowed by defeat, wanted to feel he had not completely misjudged him.
“Honorable leaders, fellow Cerebrons, fellow Ceremyons, I am placed this afternoon in an exceedingly awkward position.”
Good, Synapo thought, that’s the first promising observation I’ve heard from a Cerebron all day.
“This morning,” Axonius continued, “it was my opinion that Neuronius spoke from a position of superior competence in his assessment of what should be the posture of Ceremyons if we are to insure our proper place in the galactic hierarchy, to use his terms.
“It was not a decision arrived at lightly. I have great respect for our leader, and have never before seen him come to an erroneous judgment. He is completely right in pursuing a policy of peaceful cohabitation with all life forms on our world.
“But is he right in applying that same policy to any galactic species that may take a notion to inhabit our planet? How can we determine and judge the intentions of an alien species without conducting an experiment and risking our survival in the very process of the experiment?
“It is an unfortunate dilemma which risks, on the one hand, prejudging and punishing an alien species without a hearing, but on the other hand, risks our very survival not to do so, not to prejudge.
“Mine was not a decision arrived at impetuously this morning. We have all been pondering the problem and updating our cerebrations with each report of the negotiations by our leader.
“So this morning, the risk to our survival seemed overwhelming, and I favored the position of Neuronius as being the more competent exercise of leadership.
“I shall not dwell unduly on the remarks of Neuronius this afternoon, and will merely conclude by saying that I cannot in good conscience endorse them; they do not reflect competent leadership.”
His hook had remained pointing aft throughout his remarks.
He hurried on then, no dramatic pauses, words tumbling out of his mouth in an effort to somehow put distance between himself and his own pronouncement.
“Would anyone else care to make a statement?” he said. Synapo was proud of Axonius. Almost ready to forgive him. Axonius had stuck courageously to the position he had taken earlier that morning and yet had denied Neuronius that afternoon.
Synapo, like everyone else, was expecting any further remarks to come from the Cerebron elite before Axonius called upon him for a final statement, giving him the traditional privilege of last remarks before the vote.
So they were all surprised when Sarco spoke up, standing on the crag to Axonius’s right.
“Honorable chairman, under ordinary circumstances any remarks that I might make to a Cerebron caucus would be off the record unless I were called as an official witness, which I have not been this day. In fact, quite the contrary. The Myostrians are here because of Leader Privilege which I exercised, recognizing this meeting to be of vital concern to the Myostria. This is our world as well as yours, Cerebrons, and ordinarily decisions affecting our mutual welfare are jointly arrived at by friendly discussion between the leaders of the two tribes.
“Today, a matter of vital concern to both tribes is unavoidably going to be decided by the exclusive vote of a Cerebron truncated caucus, without our leader being able to participate in the decision.
“You can understand my concern, then, and the reason I ask to be considered an official witness in your proceedings. How say you, Mr. Chairman?”
“So noted and recorded, Honorable Leader,” Axonius confirmed.
“My remarks will not be brief, yet neither am I given to excessive rhetoric. I am fortunately not constrained by the extraordinary position Axonius finds himself in. Quite the contrary. I feel compelled to dwell at length on Neuronius’s position this morning and his remarks this afternoon.”
As he was concluding those words, without pausing, Sarco slued his hook around until it pointed forward.
“Taking the last first, his final statements this afternoon confirm what I have long suspected: he is a paranoid psychopath with a cunning way of hiding his affliction by artful words and soothing flattery until the hook needs be set.
“Then his pent-up fears and irrational solutions come bursting forth, as we witnessed in stunned silence this afternoon. If you were not stunned, Myocerons, then you need to examine your own state of mind.
“Axonius obviously was, and his introspection guided him accordingly. Neuronius had him deluded with the promise of honorable ascension until this afternoon, when all the honor evaporated in the course of an irrational grab for power.
“I can understand Axonius’s reasoning at this morning’s meeting with the aliens, but a true leader has to look deeper than Axonius did and reason rationally — as Neuronius did not — to find the ultimate solution to problems: that solution which looks beyond immediate and easy resolution.
“Typically, Synapo summed it all up quite concisely in his opening remarks this afternoon — somehow we can always count on him. Neuronius could have spared us all a lot of grief, if he had just been listening and taken heed, if he had just been listening to Synapo’s daily reports these past few days and taken heed.
“Setting honor aside — and the honor is quite as compelling to Synapo as the logic — to strike blindly as Neuronius recommends is to possibly kick the toe of a giant who then, as Synapo suggests, may not be so willing to cohabit, and might even shuffle all Myocerons into their
own version of a space-time partitioner or, perish the thought, some even more malevolent and painful form of annihilation.
“To not strike blindly, but instead, to try to understand the aliens — and I am already impressed by their small leader and think I understand their intentions — is to soothe the giant under the worst of circumstances or to help and minister to a lesser species under the best of circumstances. Both are honorable directions for the Myoceria.
“Neuronius has sorely misguided you, Cerebrons.
“Synapo has already shown you the way. I have merely reiterated what he so concisely and clearly pointed out.
“Please do not fail him.”
A silence as keen as that which followed Neuronius’s last statement now fell upon the assembly.
Axonius seemed in no hurry to break the silence; instead he seemed to be providing a space for the Cerebrons to ponder Sarco’s remarks.
Finally he said, “Are there any others who would like to make a statement?”
But now he waited not at all before he said, “If not, our Honorable Leader is here provided the traditional last words before the Vote on Superior Competence.”
“I have nothing further to add to my colleagues’ remarks,” Synapo said and turned his hook until it pointed aft to accept humbly whatever the Cerebron elite might decide.
Axonius took the vote by radio ballot: secret and unanimous.
Chapter 14
BEARER OF GLAD TIDINGS
WHEN HE HEARD Axonius announce the favorable results of the unanimous vote, Synapo immediately took flight, circling up and up into the calm sky, matching that calmness with the cold detachment he had induced in himself as Sarco was speaking.
He was not surprised when Sarco joined him, and he was grateful to Sarco for the power of his oratory, but he wanted to be alone, and he had been on the point of ensuring himself that solitude when he detected Sarco close behind.