The Sirian Experiments

by Doris Lessing

  I had no reason at all to doubt that when Canopus warned, they should be listened to. I did not want to have to face the Puttiorans, or even that degenerate smiling cruel lot – these gone-to-self-indulgence classes are always cruel in their lazy insolent way … Then why was I waiting here? Why, of course, to meet Klorathy.

  I had come here to meet Klorathy …

  I understood that I had met Klorathy. There was a mystery here I did not expect to unravel then, but I knew there was one.

  I decided that I would call in my hovering Space Traveller and leave. I sent out the call, and collected my belongings. I found a white hooded garment folded in a chest and huddled myself in it. I did not want to be seen, a dark escapee against the snows, and arrested.

  Just as I was preparing to leave these high rooms at the cone’s tip, and descend to the street, I saw some writing sheets lying where Nasar had been stretched before I came into the room.

  His despair, his misery, his self-loathing, his conflicts, were written there in broken, sometimes abusive or obscene words. I ran my eye swiftly over them, leafing through the many sheets: there were months of comment there. But on the sheet he had been scribbling over, obviously, just before I had come into the room, was written:

  I come again and again to the same thought. I may not be able to face Canopus and my own nature now and the shame that will overwhelm me when I contemplate what I have been here, but I have only to contemplate Sirius to be strengthened in the better side of myself: thinking of Sirius I feel that perhaps I may at last force myself back to my duty. How is it possible that an Empire can be so large, so strong, so long-lasting; so energetic, so inventive, so skilled; how can it be so admirable in so many ways – and yet never have any inkling at all of the basic fact? They continue; they thrive; they fall into periods of decline; they make decisions; they advance again … they let their populations rage out of control, and then suddenly limit them to practically nothing. And all this done according to a temporary balance of social forces and opinion – never according to Need. This worthy and correct and competent official, who is no more capable of the shameful falling away than I have shown I am only too capable of, is not able to take in anything of what the function of Canopus is. What the function of Sirius could be. Is that not a thought with enough power in it to make me whole again?

  That is what I saw written there. I put this sheet of brittle yet at the same time flexible substance – it was new to me – in my clothes, and in my turn walked rapidly down the stairs and out into the cold whiteness. It had begun to snow again, though lightly. I was not afraid I would not find the Space Traveller, only that I might be stopped first. I did see a couple of Puttioran guards at the base of the far tower, and I ran fast along the road I had come into the city on. It was hard to keep on the road. On either side were only faint depressions to mark the ditches. I stumbled on, wondering if Nasar was still upright and walking onwards, or if he had fallen and was dying. It was strange to think in this way: we did not expect to die! Not we of the Sirian Mother Planet who can renew our bodies almost indefinitely. Death was hardly a reality to us. And that Canopus should use bodies like an equipment of garments …

  I had not run forward for long when I saw the soft glitter of the Space Traveller, and was in it and up and off the white thicknesses in a moment – soon below us the brown cones stood up out of the white coverlet, and above us was the Rohandan night sky crammed with blazing stars. I looked for our own dear star, which shed such a happy glow on our Home Planet, but I was bound for the southern hemisphere. We swept on, with the white expanse below us, and then over the great mountains that were white, too, and suddenly below us was the blue ocean. The experiments I was proposing to organize do not concern my purpose in this account.

  And so I conclude my report of my encounter with Canopus in Koshi, of the cities of the eastern central landmass.

  PLANET 3 (1), THE PLANET 9 ANIMALS

  For a long time I was nowhere near Rohanda, but at the other end of our Empire, dealing with problems, mostly psychological, arising from the reductions of population. I did not enjoy this work, and if it were not that the problems were so taxing, and, often, dangerous to the Empire, I would have visited Rohanda for a personal inspection of the experiments that were being pursued there. But these were none of them of the class described as sociobiological, only small-scale laboratory work on genetic engineering.

  It was not until the question arose of Planet 3 (1) and its future that I could with good conscience return home for the discussions on policy, and then look forward to a tour of duty on Rohanda.

  The policy discussions were long and even stormy. Our decision not to acquire and develop further planets had been maintained. Planet 3 (1) was Planet 3′s moon or satellite. Planet 3 was in active use. Its moon had never been developed, was almost entirely without oxygen: but it fell within the class of planets that are considered potentially the most useful and desirable, if their atmosphere can be adjusted. At the height of our Empire’s expansion, plans had been made to force 3 (1), for it was plentifully equipped with all kinds of minerals. But as we pursued our deliberate policy of retraction and reduction, the search for new supplies of minerals became unnecessary. I think it is not far off the truth to say that we came to overlook 3 (1), even forgot it. Planet 3 itself, an adequately functioning place, was not concerned with it, except as to how it affected her gravitational situation.

  The question of developing 3 (1) arose because there is always a latent hunger in our Colonial Service for the old days of expansion and development. I say this knowing I shall attract criticism, and cries of ‘Old Imperialist!’ But why avoid the truth! It is my belief that very many of the ills and problems of our Service stem from this hunger. There is something in Sirian nature that demands, that flourishes, in situations of challenge, provided best by the takeover of a new planet, its problems, its regulations, its development. To expand, I maintain, if not normal for us (in the sense that is right) is at least the most agreeable condition. To monitor and police planets kept deliberately stable, and on a low level of energy generally, is not exhilarating, does not inspire and develop the members of the Service. If this were not true, why should we always have in operation so many schemes deliberately contrived to provide challenge to our Service?

  No, the truth is that Planet 3 (1) came to our attention again because a large number of our personnel, particularly the younger ones, wanted to experience the sharp edge of difficulties, problems, hazards. Even dangers – for there is something quite different in quality between the dangers that have to be surmounted in establishing something new, and those faced in, let’s say, a regular policing job on a planet that erupts in dissatisfaction or discontent because of a life level that is seen too clearly to be stagnant. I do not wish here to reintroduce metaphysical questions! It is far from my intention to stray into regions that are only too thoroughly explored by our social philosophers. If I mention that on many of our thoroughly stable and economically balanced planets we have deliberately – during some epochs – allowed the inhabitants to believe in dangers that are nonexistent, that is only because it is relevant here. We have invented threats from Puttiora, or from Shammat; caused rumours of possible cosmic hazards, such as approaching comets or unfortunate starry alignments; even provoked minor uprisings – all this to prevent planets from becoming dolefully sunk into What-is-the-purpose-of-it-all states of mind that, unchecked, can even lead to mass suicide.

  At any rate, this was the main reason for our reconsidering Planet 3 (1), and it did not appear on the official list of reasons as released finally by our deliberating Conference. (It is my experience that this is a general rule, to be observed everywhere and in all kinds of situations: the real, the propelling cause of a situation or decision or change of policy is never mentioned at all, and must be sought for behind and buried under the peripheral ones.) The reasons were listed as follows:

  1 Planet 3 (1) is the only one of our Colonized Planet
s, or Planet’s Planets, left undeveloped, or not made use of in some way or another.

  2 To choose an analogy from the remote past, it is as if a well-run farm of the old kind allowed a single field to remain uncultivated. (Our younger members are particularly fond of these archaic and romantic comparisons – one may almost say that it is a cult with them.)

  3 This planet, being so near to Sirius, would be more economical to use for its minerals than other mineral-rich planets.

  4 Planet 3 has shown signs of the familiar moral stagnation and will benefit from the debates and disagreements resulting from the decision to bring its moon to life.

  5 3 (1) presents new problems, and their solution will add to our stock of scientific knowledge.

  6 There have been reminders from our personnel on Rohanda that our territories there are underused, and that parts of them are already overrun by peoples and races resulting from our previous experiments. The provision of an atmosphere for 3 (1) might be dovetailed into certain local conditions on Rohanda, as discussed at the Conference. (Details attached.)

  I had a message sent to Canopus asking if it would inconvenience them to let us use part of their territory for a limited and definite time. I was not unaware of a certain duplicity here, if one was not to call it, simply, diplomacy; the point was that we did not know exactly how long we would need the territory. We wanted the highest possible mountains. Extremely high mountains covered a large area of the southern part of the central landmass. These had become higher still, and more extensive, during the internal squeezings and pushings of the planet during the unfortunate ‘events’. We believed, through our espionage, that Canopus was not making much use of these mountainous areas. (Later we discovered this was mistaken.) But in any case, the message came back that they were not able to lend us these mountains or any part of them, and they ‘wished to draw our attention to’ the very high mountain chains along the western edge of the Isolated Southern Continent II. Thank you very much! I thought; but of course we did have these mountains, and they were adequate for our purpose. One motive for at least attempting an occupation of their Great Mountain was that our reports indicated that Klorathy was or had been stationed in those parts. I had not heard anything further from him.

  Nor from Nasar.

  My experience with Nasar had gone into the background of my thoughts shortly after it ended. This in spite of an intriguing report of a conference on Canopus that had caused ‘great and unprecedented interest’. It was a question of whether Rohanda should be entirely given up. ‘Top and Authoritative Policy’ had been challenged. ‘The debate, which lasted longer than any previous debate, and which argued the very bases of Canopean colonial policy, ended in a majority vote in favour of the maintenance of Rohanda.’ Colonial policy had been changed in a way that was unprecedented. ‘The disgruntled minority had put forward a suggestion which was adopted: that with the exception of those officials who had always been involved with Rohanda, service on the recalcitrant and burdensome planet would be voluntary: no one should be forced to sign up for a tour of duty.’ I translated these concepts, all very Sirian, into what I imagined would be nearer to Canopean ideas, in accordance with the conversations I had had with Nasar, and with what I had learned of the nature of Canopus. But a fact remained: there had been a conference on Canopus, as I had suggested to Nasar, to debate conditions of colonial service on Rohanda. (Their Shikasta.) He had laughed at the mere idea of it, but it had happened, nevertheless. But I had too little information. All this was not even secondhand: one of our officials, visiting Colony 10 for a routine exchange of information with their officials, had heard this conference mentioned in a casual conversation and had inquired about it, but without any sense of its importance, or its historic nature … And I had to confess, thinking it all over, that perhaps it was not all that important. How was I to know the emphases Canopus must place on events, according to that ‘Necessity’ of theirs! Because a disgruntled and disaffected – I hoped and believed only temporarily – official disagreed with a top-level policy, this did not mean that one had to take it all that seriously! Officials on my level had to consider this kind of thing all the time, and I took it as no more than routine. All the same, there had been a conference, and yet Nasar had laughed, and laughed, at the very idea of such a conference being possible … I had to end up with this small fact, and abandon all other speculation.

  The reason I did not dwell overmuch on my visit to Koshi was that it was all too much for me. That is the truth. What I had learned was a challenge to everything I was as a Sirian official. How could it not be? And yes, I was only too aware that to think on these lines – that I, Ambien II, might have ideas and intimations beyond my role as Sirius (I thought often enough of how Nasar had called me, simply, Sirius!) and was even beginning to separate off in myself these two entities, or ways of experiencing living – was, probably, treason. Treason of a kind. Treason of the Sirian way of looking at things. Yet who, and when, had ever shown any tendencies of this sort before? I could not remember it! When we (Sirius) had to face revolts on our colonies or disagreements about policy, these were always within Sirian terms, ideas, concepts. As for our famous ‘existential situation’, this certainly did not go beyond Sirian boundaries. But, when I was with Canopus, inside Canopean thinking, it was Sirius itself that was challenged, its very bases, its foundations.

  No, I certainly was not able to see myself as an alien to Sirius. For that was what it amounted to. Was I to put myself forward at one of our regular Conferences on Overall Policy and say – but what? That I believed Canopus to be altogether finer and higher that we were, and that we should go humbly to Canopus begging for instruction? Wrap it up as I might, that is what it amounted to.

  I have already made it clear in this memoir, or account, of mine that our attitudes towards Canopus made that quite inconceivable.

  Was I then – knowing this – to start propaganda work among my close colleagues and personal allies, such as the others of the Five, or Ambien I, or my offspring, with the idea of changing a nucleus that would (but how?) slowly change all of Sirius? The formation and cultivation of such ‘cells’ of course was perennial and only to be expected by all of us when facing dissident planets and insurrectionary movements.

  I might consider this, playing with the idea sometimes, but could not imagine myself actually doing it. There is such a thing as the art of the possible, and working with it. Well, it was not possible that I, with my position in the Empire, my experience, my temperament, should start what amounted to revolutionary cell-building!

  What alternatives were there? I now have to state, categorically, that I could not envisage any alternatives. These were the possibilities … as I saw it. I did, dimly and distantly, see that Canopus itself might have ideas of its own … I would entertain, sometimes, these rather visionary notions, and always when brooding about my various encounters with Canopus – where I had failed, where I had, in spite of these failures, learned. The practised and practising person that was Ambien II had to recognize facts, when I saw them. Facts, the more experienced one became, were always to be understood, garnered, taken in, with that part of oneself most deeply involved with processes, with life as it worked its way out. Facts were not best as understood formulas or summings up, but through this inward groping and recognition. Well, what I recognized in contemplating my relations with Canopus was some sort of purpose. It was unmistakable. To dismiss it, deny it, meant denying everything I had ever learned in my long career as participator in events. I could not dismiss it. But I could say that it was all too much for me. I postponed it. And for a very long time was busy with my work, which I was not enjoying, and which inwardly I was questioning and feeling sapped and diminished by, because of an ever-increasing sense of its futility (oh yes, treachery and treason, I know!), because of, in fact, the steady, unstoppable growth in me of that person or individual who was not ‘Sirius’.

  Who was – who? Or what? Canopus?

  Thi
s was why I caused the request to be sent that we might borrow or lease their Great Mountains.

  This was the cause of my disappointment at their refusal.

  So! I was not to see Klorathy yet … Very well then. I set myself to my task, and again pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind.

  A map of Isolated Southern Continent II shows that rather more than a third of the way down the mountain chain is a lake high among the peaks.

  What we wanted was to accustom a sufficient number of suitable individuals to living on sparse supplies of oxygen. It happened that we had, on our Colonized Planet 2, some high mountains, and on them were living a species able to function on comparatively little oxygen. But they had been established for generations. We needed flexibility, adaptability. After some thought, we chose a species from C.P. 9, a chilly, damp, dismal sort of place, whose nature was to match, phlegmatic and dour. We space-lifted 30,000 of them not to the highest peaks but to a plateau halfway up a mountain range that had sparse but adequate food, and a wet changeable climate. There we left them, under supervision, to adapt.