Klorathy had inhabited three different bodies since I had seen him last. And he told me that Nasar was at that time down in our Southern Continent I as very small brown male, a hunter, bringing a species up to a new height of knowledge about its position in relation to “The Great Spirit.” Which the was formulation suitable for that place.
Klorathy told me this in a way that meant it was a rebuke—a rebuke to us for our negligence, We had no stations on that continent then.
And so we two engaged in, if not conflict, at least disagreement, and from the very first moment.
I was with Klorathy for fifty R-years; and I will sum up the essence of our being together thus: that he was there to bring me to a new view of the Sirian usage of the planet, a new view of ourselves altogether. And he was prepared to go to a great deal of trouble… from the start I was wondering what sort of importance Canopus could possibly be attributing to it all, to designate Klorathy, one of their senior Colonial officials, to my tutelage for such a long time. Of course I did not fool myself that this was an individual matter. No, it was Canopus and Sirius—as always. But I recognised that I was in a familiar position. Nasar… Klorathy… or whatever names they might be choosing to use, whatever shapes they wore, when with me, were—I had to accept it—instructors.
And Klorathy sat there patiently with me in that pleasant, airy room, where we looked out together over landscapes I almost was able to match with what I remembered—and talked.
When I had lived here during the best time, in the days when I thought of Rohanda almost as my home, what I saw from the foothills was savannah, a pleasant, lightly-treed country broken by valleys and plains of grass. All was different now: it was rain forest. Climatic changes of a dramatic kind had caused vast rivers to flow, and their many tributaries ran through enormous trees, which made a canopy of foliage it was not possible to see through. We looked at vast expanses of leaves, always leaves, the tops of trees that shimmered and moved under a heavy and uncomfortable sun. It was not at all the bracing and invigorating place of my memories.
There was nothing now in this continent pleasant to hear about. Klorathy was making certain that I did hear, and, as I have said, with the intention of making me feel it all as a responsibility. I shall never forget how, through those days of preparation—as he clearly saw it—I was held there by him, held by his determination, that I should not be allowed to escape anything of the truth. Sometimes, evading the necessity of looking at him, I gazed out into the hot steamy perspectives of green that were so often drenched by sultry rains: but otherwise I sat regarding him, Klorathy, taking in and wondering at the authority of this person who never demanded, never enforced, but who had only to be there, be present, be himself, to make of what he said a claim and something that had to be attended to.
The situation through the continent was this. While the Lelannians had become a tyranny that controlled the old Lelannian and Grakconkranpatl territories that, because of their position, also controlled the long isthmus that joined the Southern Continent to the Isolated Northern Continent, acting as a barrier to the movement of peoples, everywhere else was evolving a fairly uniform species made from the escapees and mutants from our—by now—very numerous experiments, crossed with that kind of borderline semi-ape is so often the predominant animal on certain types of planet. This cross was not dissimilar to the Lelanos type before it had degenerated. In appearance they were a lithe, slightly built, tallish people with the common ranges of colour from light-brown to almost black, long straight black hair, black eyes. They were hunters, and gathered plants from the forests. That their genes, which held memories of origins in other places where agriculture was understood, had not spoken in them here was not surprising: this was a sparse population, with no need to grow food. They were in strict harmony with their surroundings, at that stage where no act, or intention, or thought, could be outside the mental and emotional frames of reference forming their “religion.” The Great Spirit, here, as Nasar was teaching on the other Southern Continent, was in everything they did: they lived within the sacramental, or—as I attempted to joke with Klorathy—according to the Necessity. Our relations were not easy. (I see now that this had to be so, representing as we did, and do—I must insist—Empires on such different levels.) But we did joke, were able to use this ease between ourselves. Klorathy evidently could not see my, admittedly, minor and perhaps clumsy jests as worth more than the slightest of smiles; yes, said he, these people indeed lived within the ordinance of the Necessity. Or rather, had done, before they had been overrun by the Lelannians. They were now slaves and servants from the extreme south of the continent to the isthmus. Everywhere they worked mines and plantations, or provided the meat for the ritual murders of the religion. They were also material for experiment. This surprised me, and I had to sit and hear, at very great length and in detail, of the development of the master race into technicians who saw the animals that surrounded them as controllable and malleable and available for their purposes not only socially, that is, within the limits of sociological malleability, which after all was a viewpoint that as such, and in itself, I could hardly criticise, since we—Sirius—had seen this as the foundation of Empire, the basis of good government.
But they had gone further, used any living being they ruled, on any level, as the stuff for experiments of a most brutal nature. No, although I did have my uncomfortable moments listening to Klorathy describe the practices of these overlords, I could to myself that never had we, had Sirius, done unnecessary, or cruel experiments. Of course, experimentation of the physical, as distinct from the biosociological kind, is necessary and so permitted. But after all, it is always done, with us, within the limits of our necessity, even if this is sometimes only a local need… so I fatuously argued with myself as I sat listening to Klorathy, during these conversations that I was already seeing as a preparation. A deliberate, calculated preparation for what was to come. Oh, Canopus never did, never has done, anything that has not been calculated, foreseen, measured, and this down to the last detail, even when the plan is such a long-term one that… I have to state here again that we—meaning Sirius, and I say this knowing the criticism I risk—are not able to comprehend the Canopean understanding of what may be long term, or long foreseen. Yes, I am saying this. I am stating it. I am insisting on it… If I may not do this, then my attempt in writing this record, or report, is without use.
This small example, which I am describing here, consisting of Klorathy’s use of the situation in this continent at this time to instruct me, Sirius, contains many aspects of Canopean planning, foresight, patience. Even as I dwelt there, in that old Sirian station, day after day with Klorathy, I knew that he had calculated that I would need this period for adjustment, for the absorption of what he was presenting to me.
When I knew he wanted me to accompany him on a long and certainly dangerous journey to see for myself what he was describing, I resisted. Not because of the danger. I was acquiring very different attitudes to my own extinction! Once I would have regarded “death,” of the kind now obsolete among us, as a calamity, certainly as a loss to our community because of my vast experience. Now I was thinking that if I was worth a survival of physical extinction, then what there was in me to survive, would—must. And I was thinking, too, that if we were caught and killed by these truly horrible animals, the Lelannians, I would be in the company of Canopus, who regarded “death” as a change of circumstance.
No, I was resisting because of my old lack, or disability: I not being given what I felt I was due! In the past I had sulked, or allowed myself to become impervious to what I might be learning, because Klorathy’s attention was not being given to me alone. Now, when it was being given to me alone, or rather, to me as Sirius, I still felt neglected, insufficiently appreciated, because it was only a journey among these savage Rohandans that was being offered. I would have been prepared to stay in the little station in the foothills, overlooking the long reaches of simmering rain forest, listening to what Klorathy had to tell me—even though he talked of Lelanos and Lelannians, and their habits, and not ever of Canopus itself, which I longed so much to hear about—taking in what I knew was an education of a sort far larger than I was then equipped to understand. When Klorathy spoke, his words came from Canopus, were of the substance of Canopus—that I did know. But he was putting a term to this experience of ours, which on one level was so easygoing, even lazy, and demanding that we should go forth, into something else.
There were various ways we might travel. One was to summon my Space Traveller, and to descend, the two of us, as representatives of Sirius—they would not know Canopus, the real and true power!—and demand to see what we wanted. Or we could pretend to be from another part of Rohanda, “from across the seas.” Or we could announce ourselves as from the Northern Continent, and the fact that the isthmus was closed would add to our—we hoped—mysteriousness. It was not possible to purport to come from another city in the Lelannian system, for it was monolithic and all-pervasive and knew everything that went on everywhere.
The problem was my appearance: I at least could not hope to remain unremarked.
The alternatives were put to me by Klorathy, in his way of leaving me free, so that I had to consider them, and then offer my choice to him for his acceptance. I chose descent by Space Traveller, the easiest. He did not at once disagree, but kept hesitating, as he made suggestions, or the beginnings of suggestions, for me to take up trains of thought for myself. I soon saw that to appear, suddenly, “from the skies,” and after such a long time during which the Sirian surveillance had been forgotten, would be to disrupt the social system totally, and in ways that ought to be calculated, weighed, planned for—in the Canopean manner. Planned for when the subjects of this consideration were such an unpleasant kind?
Yes, indeed. I had to accept it. What I was being given was a lesson in Canopean viewpoints—very far from ours.
No, we were not to use the easy way. In the end it was decided to be visitors from “over the seas.” Prompted by him, I brought forth from within myself the advantages—and they were all inside a Canopean scope of time. The main one, from which the others flowed, was that even these tyrants would be open to information or instruction from “over the seas,” for their legends kept references to such beings. Not by chance: some visiting Canopean had no doubt made sure that their legends would contain such memories.
This journey of ours through the Southern Continent was a long one, and there were many aspects to it that unfolded themselves as we went, that sometimes became clear to me only later. Are still, in fact, showing new facets, when I contemplate that time. I submitted a full report on this journey, which is still available. There is nothing untrue, or even evasive there: on that I must insist. But I must urge, too, that it is possible, and indeed often inevitable, that one may report events as fully and honestly as one knows how—and yet find oneself up against a check, beyond which one may in no way pass. This barrier is the nature or state of those for whom the report is made. Their state at that time. Preparing this report, one’s mind on those who will receive it—the words are chosen for you, the frequencies limited. As one’s mind goes out to touch, or assess, those who will take it in, one knows that only so much of it can be taken in. But that later, perhaps, much more will be found. I wonder if those of my fellow Sirians who have read so far—and, as I have already said, I can guess only too well the nature of some of their emotions—might care to look up that old report of the journey. I feel that both those who saw it all those ages ago, and those who read it now, for the first time, may find there a great deal that can amplify this present account of mine.
We dressed ourselves as differently from the current Lelannian mode as possible: they expressed their hierarchic society most fully in their clothes, which were elaborate, stiff, and ornamented. We wore simple robes, and made sure that the current protective devices were well concealed; though we believed that all memory of such things had been forgotten.
Klorathy took me straight, not to the capital but to a main research centre.
It was situated well away from areas of habitation, was guarded heavily. The actual appearance of the place was not dissimilar to our research establishments that had been in past times quite plentiful over this and the other Southern Continent: this fact did give me some unpleasant moments, and I wondered if our practices been noted by the ancestors of this present breed, and copied. I did not mention my suspicion to Klorathy, who, however, as it passed through my mind, said only: “May I suggest that we reserve all comment and comparison until after our journey our is done?”
The station consisted of laboratories of various kinds, and compounds and camps for the retention of the experimentees: a local tribe.
When we arrived in the place, and said that we were “from over the long blue seas”—a phrase which was part of their heritage of song—they showed a disposition to worship us, which we discouraged, asking to be shown examples of their technical knowledge.
Their awe was a disadvantage, because it made it difficult for them to produce simple answers to straight questions; but we could see enough without that.
These currently ruling animals seemed to have inherited the worst of the originating breeds. The slablike uniformity of the Grakconkranpatls remained: there was a truly extraordinary lack of variation in feature and build. Any lightness or quickness derived from the subtle vitality of the old Lelannians, but this had degenerated into mental dishonesty and capacity for self-deception, which showed itself in their faces and eyes as shiftiness. It is astonishing how a characteristic may become deformed into its opposite under the pressure of degeneration.
Experiments then in progress at that station included the following:
In order to find out the capacities for endurance and perseverance of their subject animals, they had built a very large tank with slippery sloping sides on which it was not possible to find a purchase. This was filled with water. About a hundred particularly healthy and strong tribesmen had been selected and put into this tank to swim there until they drowned. All around the edge of the tank researchers stood with stopwatches in their hands. Others guarded the instruments with which they were measuring the pulse rate and breathing of the experimentees: from time to time an animal would be selected, pulled out of the water and tested, and then, in spite of cries and pleadings, would be flung back in again.
The teams of researchers, as they tired, were replaced. Astonishing feats of endurance were performed. It was not the most pleasant of sights. Though it was certainly interesting to see the differences between the swimming animals. Some, when thrown in, suspecting the nature of the experiment, at once allowed themselves to drown. This tendency was regarded as a measure of intelligence. Some cried and begged to be taken out. Some panicked and clung to others so that one might see two or three or more at a time, sinking during their struggles. Others were silent and conserved their strength and swam around and around and around, regarding their masters on the edges with a look in their eyes that—I have to record for the sake of truthfulness—I had seen in the eyes of some of our subject races… the Lombis, for instance. Some, seeing others weaken, went to support them knowing that their own ends would be nearer. But a few swam on for several days. And even when they seemed half-conscious, they swam on, and on, until at last they sank. To stand on those high banks, while some of the unfortunate animals scrabbled and clutched at the slippery slopes beneath me, calling out for aid—I soon found this too upsetting, and suggested to Klorathy that we should leave.
There was another experiment to measure strength and endurance. They had a large cauldron under which were piles of wood. The cauldron, from which it was impossible to climb, because the sides sloped inwards, was filled with water. Into this they put, one at a time, males, females, and children, and lit the fires, and heated the water. This was to measure the different rates at which the experimentees succumbed to the heating water. Again the differences were remarkable. A few managed to stay alive until the water was nearly at boiling point. (This part of my account will be more fully appreciated if the reader equips himself with a basic knowledge of Rohandan chemistry.)
In a third experiment they transplanted limbs and organs. It was unpleasant to see all this work being done using techniques that had not only been in use with us for so long but were already becoming superceded—though we did not (do not yet) appreciate that. Yes, I am making this comparison quite soberly.
The monsters created by their crude techniques were, I suppose, not without interest, when I was able to quell my—by then soaring—indignation. The glands of some females had been grafted on their backs. Others had them on their thighs. The sexual organs of males were transferred to their faces, so that the organs for eating and progeniture were adjacent. This caused psychological maladjustment, which they found, surprisingly, of interest. I saw a child that had had legs grafted on to its hips! We were told that this unfortunate at least would have an adequate future, for it would be used as entertainment for the ruling classes: it was able to revolve itself on these four legs as on the spokes of a wheel. The technicians did seem quite pleased to be able to reassure us when they could—as in the case of this cartwheeling child. They did not enjoy causing pain, they insisted. But they believed that the experimentees, being of an inferior kind, did not feel physical or psychological pain as they themselves did. I have not before encountered this trick of the mental processes—at least not since the very early days of our science, when there were tendencies to assure ourselves of the invulnerability of our experimentees.
At least Sirius can say that not for many long ages have we been hypocrites… I said this then, to Klorathy, who merely repeated that we should wait for the end of our journey to make comments.
Before we left that place we were taken on a tour of the compounds. They housed several hundred tribespeople: males, females, children. Long sheds contained tiers of bunks in which they slept. These were built of concrete because, as was explained to us, the animals were thus more easily protected from vermin and kept clean: the interiors of the sheds, and the animals, hosed down once a with water that had chemicals in it. Some animals took cold and died of this treatment: the hot climate disposed them to respiratory diseases. They were fed from large pots filled with porridge made of a cereal introduced by us long before from our Planet 17. They were made to do exercises twice a day because unfit animals were of no use in research work. There was a prison and punishment block for offenders, and a small hospital for the sick. The compound was surrounded by tall fences, and guarded heavily. As we made our tour, a male tribesman stood forth, holding up his hands palms out—in their gesture for entreaty. As the guards went forward to club him back among his fellows, I asked them to let him speak. He wanted to make a petition. He said that many of the experiments being made on them were unnecessary, because the information needed could be gained by simply asking them—as for instance, as to abilities of endurance compared among individuals. In their native habitat, before their subjection, their own traditions told them that there had been an extensive and rich knowledge of the nature of their physiques, and of their mental processes. They had used a medicine based on plants and on psychological understanding. Also, they had known how to live in and with the terrain in such a way that this was not damaged.
The poor fellow came out with this in a rush, because of his fear of being checked, looking all the time at me, begging for protection. He stood naked there before us, his features marked with the signs of long imprisonment, but he had a self-respect that was impressive. This “inferior” race was obviously, and at the most cursory inspection, superior to their masters—particularly in the honesty and straightforwardness of their understanding and means of expressing themselves.
He said that at no time had the Lelannians asked the natives about what might be known by them, and which could be used generally, to benefit everyone. Never had the Lelannians been prepared to listen, though the natives had continually tried to offer their knowledge, their expertise… but the Lelannians were not prepared to listen then either—clubs and whips descended; soon the poor fellow was lying senseless in his blood, and the group of technicians who were showing us around showed indignation at the “impertinence” and then went on with the self-satisfied stupidity that was their characteristic, to say that “these animals were always up to their tricks.” I was seething with indignation, not only because of the injustice I had witnessed but because of the waste of it all. I was thinking that never had Sirius—at least, not since our civilised time began—gone into a planet and destroyed the precious knowledge of its inhabitants, the irreplaceable knowledge—for only those have been evolved from the earth and air and liquid of a planet can know its real, its innermost, nature.
But Klorathy stood silent by me. I knew him enough to understand that a tightening of his face showed he was suffering. But he made no sign, only turned to go. And we made our way through the packed masses of naked tribespeople, all beseeching us with their eyes and holding up their palms to us, afraid to speak, but taking this opportunity to make their cause known to those who—they could see—were not Lelannians.
Before we left the place we had to endure a long feast at which we played our parts. The feast was nauseating. The flesh of the natives and other animals was its main feature. The technicians of this place were glad of an excuse for a feast, we could see: they saw themselves as sophisticates banished for long tours of duty in a backwater, and longed to be returned to the capital.
They made speeches every one of which congratulated themselves on their brilliant experimental work. It did not cross their minds to think we might not admire them as they admired themselves.
And next morning we thankfully left.
News about the appearance of the “great ones from over the waters” had preceded us to the capital. We were received with much pomp and ceremonial. Again, the priesthood ruled, but the ruling caste did not consist only of the priestly families, as had been the case in old Grakconkranpatl. The division showed at once as we proceeded between two ranks, on one side the priests in their gorgeous robes and jewellery, flanked and buttressed by the soldiery; and on the other side the privileged families, in colourful clothing and jewels, charming and infantile as such indulged castes always are. No soldiers on their side! No guards, even! And no need of either, for they were the willing captives of the ruling priests. I shall not describe our visit to this capital city any further—there were no experimental stations there. But I shall mention the architecture. When the Lelannian and Grakconkranpatl states mingled, and Lelanos dominated, taking over the priesthood, the blocklike, ominous, Grakconkranpatl style was used for all administrative buildings, prisons, hospitals, and punishment centres. The light, fanciful Lelanos ways were used for housing and places of entertainment. Strange it was to see these extremes so juxtaposed.
We spent some months in the capital. Slowly I saw that Klorathy needed this time to find out whether these brutes were capable of regeneration. The process, for the most part, consisted of listening. Or he probed, lightly and skillfully. Sometimes he made experiments of his own—but so slight and subtle were they that at first I did not notice what he was doing: I to learn to be able to observe what went on. He would test their reactions to this idea or that, by suggestions, or even mild provocation. He would implant a new idea into a group and then wait to see how it would become processed by their particular mentation. I was not equipped to understand how he was reacting to what he found in them. But I was able to see that he was increasingly sombre, and even—it took me some time to be able to admit to myself that the great Canopus was capable of such emotions—discouraged. But there was soon no doubt of it: he was containing a dry and powerful sorrow, and I was able to recognise what I knew myself so very well and so intimately from such long immersion in it.
This stay in the capital is fully dealt with in my old report.
By the time we left, in spite of Klorathy's attempts to prevent us becoming cult objects, focuses of useless awe, that is what we had become. We had to forbid, absolutely, ceremonies in which droves of unfortunate natives were designated as “sacrifices to the Gods.” We insisted, as far as we could, that such practices were regarded at least “over the long blue seas” as unnecessary—it would not do to suggest to these self-satisfied ones that they were barbaric and primitive. When we left we travelled accompanied by priests, who performed their repulsive ceremonies at every opportunity; and by some of the youth, who saw no shame in describing themselves as “playpeople.”
The experimental station we visited next was similar to the other in appearance. The experimental subjects again consisted of the local tribesmen, but they also used some other kinds of animals, notably carnivores. They preferred to use the natives, on the ground that these were nearer to themselves in physical structure. Also that they had done so much work on them that comparisons could more usefully be made.
At this station Klorathy made an attempt to persuade the technicians to ask the natives in a systematic way for information about their medicine. He spoke of places “beyond the waters” where an advanced medicine was used, based on local balances and earth forces, on the rhythms of the stars, on the disposition of exactly placed and planned buildings, and on the use of plants. This “medicine” was more than curative or preventive: health was considered as a result and an expression of the exact sciences, used by a whole society, taught to every individual in the society. Health was being in balance with the natural forces of—the Galaxy. Yes, he went so far. And, yes, I was all ears. For this was what I had wanted to know. He was talking about the Necessity, even if in this guarded and indirect way. That much I did recognise. But as usual I was being disadvantaged by my emotional reactions. How was it that this precious information, the secrets of Canopus, of the Canopean superiority, was being given to these debased Lelannians. How was it, that when I had wanted, and for so long, to hear him talk in this way, it was not I who was addressed… it took me a long time, not until after we separated on this occasion, to see the simple fact that after all he had been speaking to me, since I was there. To Sirius… And he not been talking to the Lelannians, that is, if one was to judge by results: for they could make no use of what they heard. They did not hear. They could not hear. I have never before seen so clearly and simply that law of development that makes a certain stage of growth impossible to an individual, a people, a planet: first, they have to hear. They have to be able to take in what they are being offered.
Throughout the main occasions when Klorathy was with these top-level priest-technicians, they sat apparently all attention and respect, but their faces showed always the self-esteem that was their curse, the mark of their incapacity. The ground of their nature was this conviction of superiority, of innate worth over other species. Klorathy was not able to shake it.
This was true of nearly all. There were in fact a few of them who did absorb the intuition that there was something here they could learn, and they came to him secretly. And he instructed them as far as he could. When we left this station, they accompanied us. Our escort was now an extraordinary mixture of officials and priests, the frivolously curious, and these serious students of his ways of thought.
The third station was of particular interest, and the work there could have thrown light on the nature of the processes that had Rohanda in their grip—if the Lelannians had been capable of understanding them. The station researched the Degenerative Disease that caused the “ageing” that I had first seen—but still only in a mild form—in Rhodia. Since that time, this expression of Rohanda’s falling away from earlier excellence had accelerated. The term of life was half of what it been in the old Lelannian days. A hundred and fifty R-years was the norm now. And “ageing” began at the end of the stage of physical readiness for mating and reproduction. There was a dryness, a shrivelling, and, soon, a wrinkling of all the skin casing. The hair lost its colour and became spectral and pale. The eyes, too, lost colour. Hearing, sight, touch, taste—all the senses—became blunted, or ceased to operate. The processes of mentation were affected, sometimes to the point of imbecility. There were compounds full of local natives, all over a certain age, and these were being tortured to give up the secrets of “ageing.”
An interesting fact was that the natives were viable much longer than the “superior” race. They remained energetic and flexible in limb for longer, their hair kept its colour often until death—their pitifully early deaths—and their teeth often remained comparatively excellent. Also, there was less mental confusion. This, Klorathy said, was because of the natives’ closer bond with the natural flows and forces, as compared with the Lelannians, whose ways were mechanical and imposed by arbitrary law or by whim; because they worked physically, which the “superior” ones were proud not to do; because the stuff of their genetic inheritance did not include any contribution from Shammat and Puttiora.