Terry Bisson - Bears Discover Fire

“But you are in charge.” I was surprised to find myself disappointed.

“True. But that’s only a formality. In fact, Sidrath is already on his way here with Here’s Johnny, in case this communication occurs before they can get the Shadow back to High Orbital. We made a deal; I agreed to limit the sessions to one a day.”

“One a day!”

“I think we’ve learned all we’re going to learn here. All it does is answer the same questions, in a sort of a loop.

We’ll go in the morning, Major, as usual. Meanwhile, want to play Monopoly?”

That night I dreamed again that I was flying. The flying itself was flying, so fast that I had to chase it in order not to disappear. The next morning, after breakfast (sausage and eggs) I followed the lunies down the tube to East, where Hvarlgen and Dr. Kim were waiting.

Hvarlgen insisted that I sit in my usual spot. Like a priestess at a ritual, she placed the bowl at my feet, then rolled back to Dr. Kim’s bedside. The Shadow twisted in the bowl and disappeared; the Shadow appeared again in his blue coveralls, bluer than I remembered.

“Who are the Others?” asked Hvarlgen.

“They are not a they. They are an Other.”

(Maybe Hvarlgen was right to limit the sessions, I thought. It was beginning to sound like word games.)

“Another what?” Hvarlgen asked. “Another civilization?”

I heard a sound like a growl. It was Dr. Kim, snoring; he had fallen asleep propped on one elbow, with his spraypipe in his hand.

“Not a civilization. They are not—plural like yourself. Not biological.”

“Not material?” asked Hvarlgen.

“Not a where-when string,” the Shadow said.

“Is the communication ready? Can it take place now?”

“Soon. The protocol is completed. When the communication takes place the protocol will be gone.”

I wondered what that meant. We were, supposedly, part of the protocol. I was about to raise my hand to ask permission to ask a question—but the Shadow was already flickering, already twisting back into being in its bowl.

Being careful not to awaken Dr. Kim, Hvarlgen shooed everyone out of the infirmary and we went to Grand Central for a late breakfast. I didn’t tell her I had already eaten. I had soup and crackers.

The poster said D=55. I had less than two days left on the Moon.

“Isn’t Dr. Earn using a lot of that stuff?” I asked.

“He’s in a lot of pain,” Hvarlgen said. “I just hope he lasts until this communication, whatever it is. At the same time—”

“It’s for you,” said one of the lunies. “It’s the Diana . They just completed TLI and they’re on their way.”

I went back to my wedgie for a nap, and dreamed again of flying. I hadn’t dreamed so much since Katie died. I didn’t have wings, or even a body—I was the flight itself. The movement was my substance in a way that I understood perfectly, except that the understanding evaporated as soon as I sat up.

The wedgie was cold. I had never felt so alone.

I got dressed and went to Grand Central and found two lunies watching Bonnie and Clyde, and Hvarlgen curled up with Sidrath on the phone. I had forgotten how lonely the farside could be. It is the only place in the Universe from which you never see the Earth. Outside was nothing but stars and stones and dust.

I went to the infirmary. Dr. Kim was awake. “Where’s Sunda?” he asked.

“On the phone with Sidrath and Here’s Johnny. They made Trans Lunar Injection right after lunch. You were asleep.”

“So be it,” said Dr. Kim. “Did you say hello to our friend?”

I saw the Shadow in the corner, under the magnolia, near the foot of the bed. I felt a shiver. It was the first time he had ever appeared without our—summoning him. The bowl on the table was empty.

“Hello, I guess,” I said. “Have you talked to him?”

“He’s not talking.”

“Shouldn’t I get Hvarlgen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Dr. Kim. “It doesn’t mean anything. I think he just likes to exist, you know?”

“I’m here anyway,” Hvarlgen said, from the door. “What’s going on?”

“I think he just likes to exist,” said Dr. Kim, again. “Did you ever get the feeling when you were running a program, that it enjoyed running? Existing? It’s all in the connections, the dance of the particles. I think our friend the Shadow senses that he won’t exist very long, and—”

Even as he spoke the Shadow began to fade. At the same time the dark substance twisted into being in the bowl. I looked down into it. It was dark yet clear yet infinitely deep, like infinity itself. I could see stars beyond stars in it.

Hvarlgen seemed relieved that the Shadow was gone. “I’ll be glad when the Diana gets here,” she said. “I don’t know which way to turn; which way to proceed.”

I sat on the foot of the bed. Dr. Kim took another shot of PeaceAble and passed the pipe to me.

“Dr. Kim!”

“Relax. He’s no longer the test bunny, Sunda,” he said. “His bowel is no longer the pathway between the stars.”

“Still. You know that’s only for people who are terminal,” Hvarlgen said.

“We’re all terminal, Sunda. We just get off at different stops.”

That night after supper, we played Monopoly. The Shadow appeared again, and again he had nothing to say. “He doesn’t speak unless we call him up,” said Hvalgren.

“Maybe the ceremony, the chair, the lunies watching, are part of the protocol,” said Dr. Kim. “Like the questions.”

“What about the Others? Do you think we’ll see them?” I asked.

“My guess is that there’s no them to see,” said Dr. Kim.

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine a being larger than star systems, that manipulates on the subatomic level, where the Newtonian universe is an illogical dream that cannot be conceptualized. A being that reproduces itself as waves, in order to exist, that is one and yet many. A being that is not a where-when string—as the Shadow calls it—but a series of one-time events…”

“Dr. Kim,” said Hvarlgen. She played a conservative but deadly game.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Pay attention. You just landed on my city. Cash or credit?”

“Credit,” he said.

That night I dreamed. I slept late, and woke up exhausted. I found Hvarlgen in Grand Central, on the phone with Sidrath, as usual lately. A lunie was changing the poster from D=29 to D=11.

“Here’s Johnny and Sidrath just crossed Wolf Creek Pass,” Hvarlgen said, hanging up.

“They’re balling the jack,” I said.

“They’re using boosters,” she said. “We all have the feeling we’re running out of time.”

This was to be, by agreement, our last contact session. All the lunies were there; in their yellow tunics they were as alike as bees. I sat in the usual spot, which seemed to be part of the protocol. I enjoyed the position of prominence—especially since I got to keep my pants on.

Hvarlgen placed the bowl on the floor and the dark whale dove— twisted beautifully out of its bowl—and the Shadow appeared in the image of a man.

Hvarlgen looked at me. “Do you have a question?”

“What happens after the communication?” I asked.

“I cease to be.”

“Will we cease to be?”

“You are a where-when string.”

“What are you?” asked Dr. Kim.

“Not a what. A where-when point.”

“When does the communication take place?” asked Hvarlgen.

“Soon.” He was repeating himself. We were repeating ourselves. Was it my imagination, or did the Shadow seem weary?

Hvarlgen, nothing if not democratic, turned her chair toward the lunies gathered in the doorway and on the bed.