James Tiptree Jr. - Up the Walls of the World

“You’re evading the point. Did they suspect a change of identity?”

Giadoc hesitates, his mantle glowing blue-gray in muted disapproval. “No,” he admits finally. “The only doubts I received were concerned with the health of the body’s owner. But Fathers, I don’t think you could go undetected long, because I discovered that this group of aliens are actually attempting to learn to transmit life-signals. Fantastic.” His field expands again at the wonder of it. “So ignorant and chaotic. Some of them have considerable power, but hopelessly untrained. That must be why our Beam stabilizes there so readily. An extraordinary coincidence!”

“Whatever they may learn in the future is no danger to us now,” Scomber declares. “The point is that even these aliens who have some crude mind-skills didn’t suspect you. Is that right?”

“Yes, Father Scomber.”

“And if your Beam is stabilized on them it should be easier to send people in a unified group, isn’t that correct, Lomax?”

“Well, yes, that’s true, Scomber.” The Chief Hearer is furled in dislike. Near him old Heagran is glowing dark indigo in wordless anger. But more and more young Fathers are clustering behind Scomber, their fields aligned with his. Among them is Tiavan.

“Wait, Scomber,” old Omar interjects. “Let us hear from the female before we think of sending untrained people.”

“Very well, Tivonel!”

She banks down among them, trying to think what she can do to dissuade them from their rotten plan.

“Yes,” she concedes, “with Giadoc’s guidance it was easy to travel the Beam. And the merger does itself, you only have to push. But Fathers, it was a horrible world. You Deepers may think you’re used to living at the bottom of the Wind, but it’s much worse than that. It panics you.”

Several Fathers glint angrily at her daring, but Scomber ignores her. “Will a Father saving his child panic so easily?” he demands in loud lights. “You have heard the female. Summon your Fatherly courage. On this Beam our children and our people can escape!” Flickers of assent greet his words; more Fathers throng around him.

Tivonel can contain herself no longer.

“What about the poor beings you bring here?” she flares. “While Giadoc was away I was with his body, I saw the alien mind he sent here, I saw it was hurt and afraid. And they’re intelligent beings like us. If Tyree is really in danger, how can a Father send these people here to be burned or die? I know that’s wrong.”

At this rebuke from a female the Father’s mantles light angrily. But old Heagran unfurls himself and silences them with an icy snap on the life-bands.

“She is right!” His voice is a commanding purple. “This female is a better life-Father than you! I say again, Scomber, this is a criminal plan. What right have we to steal intelligent bodies and bring these people here to suffer and die? You who try to escape by such means debase the name of Tyree. If you survive, you will be criminals, not Tyrenni; and the Great Wind will reject you forever. Saving Tyree does not mean saving our bodies alone. It is the spirit of Tyree we must save, or die with it. I for one will stay and perish in the arms of our sacred Wind rather than crawl out a few extra years as a mind-stealer in some alien abyss.”

“Well said!” “Nobly spoken, Heagran!” Several Fathers move to station themselves with Heagran and Lomax. “I stand with you,” declares Eldest-female Janskalen. More Fathers and females drift away from Scomber’s group.

But there is still a resolute crowd behind Scomber and Terenc. Avanil and many of her Paradomin are there too.

All fields are radiating tension. Is it possible there is going to be actual strife, a mind-fight like the Wild Ones here among the Fathers of Tyree? Tivonel shudders, scanning around over the throng. For the first time she realizes how huge it is. The plant-thickets at the Wall are dense with people, young and old—even some children jetting loose. A group of big-field males that must be the Near Pole Hearers is resting in a thicket. And more coming up from Deep all the time. They’re scared; she can hear the green flicker of fear flash from group to group. It wouldn’t take much to generate a terrible panic-vortex, here, she thinks. Some of the elders must think so too, she can see them awkwardly moving among the crowd, trying to restore calm.

The formal white of Lomax’ voice breaks into the tensions.

“Fathers, again I must remind you, your decision is premature. Your plan may be impossible. Only two of the three tests have been made. Even if we can send untrained people, undetected, we still do not know the most vital point: Will the exchange hold when the Beam collapses? Can you stay alive there without the Beam? We must test by withdrawing the Beam. I say again, I and my Hearers condemn this plan to steal lives. But we will make this last test in the hope that it will fail and put an end to discord.”

“Another test? Another delay until we all burn!” Scomber flashes.

“If you go without testing you may well all die at once,” Lomax replies. “The Beam cannot be held long. Then you would lose all chance of any other way of escape.”

“Very well,” Scomber concedes angrily. “Let this last test begin!”

“As soon as our Hearers are rested. They are drained and tired now, they require at least six hours. And in that time the turning of the alien world will complicate our contact. And furthermore, the lone Destroyer has approached our Beam, may the Wind blast him. We must wait a day for optimum conditions and to give the Destroyer time to move away.”

“A day! Nonsense!” Scomber explodes in fiery rage. “People are dying, the Wind is burning! We cannot wait a day, Destroyer or no Destroyer. If you Hearers are tired, let them use the help of these Near Pole Hearers over there! Bdello!” Scomber jolts the life-bands. “You, Bdello, bring your Hearers to Chief Lomax at once.”

“But they have never formed a Beam,” Lomax objects. “Also, see, they are exhausted from the journey—

“Then teach them!” Scomber orders. “Bdello! The Fathers summon you!”

Bdello and his travel-weary band start out toward the angry group of Fathers. Tivonel moves to Giadoc’s side.

“Let someone else go this time, Giadoc. Don’t risk yourself again.”

“I must, I am the most experienced. As to risk, it appears that none of us on Tyree have long to live. But I promise you, dear-Tivonel, if I’m alive when the Beam returns, I will come back to you and to our son.”

“If you’re alive—Oh, Giadoc!”

“Tivonel,” he dims his voice. “Between ourselves, I believe one can remain on an alien world without the Beam. Once I secretly tried disengagement. It was unpleasant but I survived. So I fear that this crime is indeed possible. But I swear to you, I will come back to join you here and we will face our fate together.”

The flashing uproar around Scomber and Lomax has resolved itself. Lomax agrees to try to form a Beam with the help of Bdello’s Hearers. “But it must be raised not once but twice,” he warns. “First to send and second to retrieve, if Giadoc proves to be alive.”

Giadoc turns away to start the long climb up to the launch-station, and the new Hearers prepare to jet out to the posts around the Wall.

“Marockee, you and Virmet see that they get food,” Tivonel says. “I must find a Father to stand by Giadoc’s body while he is away. The poor alien who comes here may injure it. Elders!” she calls formally. “A Father’s care is needed to stand by Giadoc!”

No one answers. Dismayed, she realizes how tired and unwind-worthy the senior Fathers are. And no help can be expected from those who bear children in their pouches. But there are Terenc and Padar and Tynad, strong young males with newly empty pouches.