James Tiptree Jr. - Up the Walls of the World

At this moment two things occur. A pod pulls up outside and releases a flood of large, active mind-fields—and Giadoc realizes that his Doctordan body requires to eliminate water. What to do, in this windlessness?

Luckily the same thought has just risen in Kirk’s mind. Another cross-wind conquered! He copies Kirk’s disposal of the debris and follows him back to the “latrine” before the new aliens come in.

The liquid-elimination routine proves simple, the body’s habits are strong. As he stands beside Kirk, Giadoc allows himself to sample more of the other’s surface thought, and suddenly picks up a detailed picture of alien sexuality. It fascinates him so that he almost forgets to hold his stream of liquid steady. Imagine, all that contact! Never to know the ecstasy of repulsion—and the egg unblessed by the wind! And how does the Father pouch the egg? Is this Kirk totally immature?

His explorations are interrupted by the entry of another alien, and Giadoc barely manages to follow Kirk’s lead in restoring his “dick” and “zipper” to their original states.

The newcomer is transmitting friendship toward him and hostility toward Kirk. Giadoc pauses; the field is so large and expressive that he is sure this mind must be aware. But no; in answer to his mental greeting the other only says, “Not feeling so good, Doc?”

“Weak,” Giadoc says, studying the other. Its name is “Tedyost,” and it is preoccupied with some massive grief. Giadoc probes further and it enlightened: Tedyost’s body is damaged by some illness that afflicts these people. He is in fact dying. Moved by such frailty, Giadoc involuntarily sends him the ritual energy-gift appropriate to the old.

“Dann! Where are you? It’s time to set up.”

Noah is calling him and the Beam has not returned. Well, now for some improvisation worthy of a true Beam traveler!

He finds Noah just outside.

“I fear I am not feeling all right,” Giadoc tells him. “Can you assist me?”

“Damnation! And this is the big one. Margaret out sick, they wouldn’t even let me see her. Oh, all right. Every bloody thing always—”

His anger is wholly superficial, Giadoc sees; the intent to help is strong. He follows Noah into a small enclosure containing a mind-field in such agitation that he cannot help extending a Fatherly field-edge. And he can sense others almost in panic nearby. Winds, this is going to be rough, if he must soothe and double-probe at the same time!

Moreover, the mind under his touch is a puzzle—an unmistakable Father who thinks of himself as a low-status female. But no time for puzzles now. Noah is manipulating a formidable mass of dead tendrils attached to chinks of shiny matter, expecting him to do something. What, what? Shamelessly he thrusts among them both, probing for the veins of expectation, their anticipations of what he will do. Ah, yes—select that “wire,” the one with the clasperlike disk.

Concentrating with all his might, Giadoc lets his Doctordan hands carry it to the “temple,” seat it on the skin. Approval in both minds—that was right. Now the next, yes, and the next. Memorize carefully. Is he succeeding?

Beside him Noah is doing something with “reels,” not his concern. They are expecting him to attach another set of wires, something to do with circulation; the alien has extended a lower limb. Which wire? Ah—he guesses right and is already applying it when he catches the surprised objection, “electrode paste.” What? Oh—He finds the substance and achieves the proper combination, though apparently too lavishly.

But it’s working, he can do it! Elated, he realizes that this ambiguous alien is transmitting warm, Fatherly sympathy to Doctordan. Apparently the friendly Doctordan is well regarded by the test people, whatever hostility he evokes elsewhere. Thinking this, Giadoc lets his concentration slip and discovers he has done something wrong with the strip of matter on the upper limb.

“Let me, Doctor,” He/she tells him verbally. “You feel rotten, don’t you?”

“Weak,” he admits, watching closely as the strip is wound. Noah has gone out.

“It’s this awful place. If we get out of here alive I’ll be grateful.”

The being is deeply, deeply afraid, he realizes. So are they all, he is receiving a wail of fear-thoughts, images of horrifying captivity, indignities, the “Fearing” monster. Well, not his concern. He presses the other’s mind with an enfolding flow of reassurance, and turns his body to go.

“You forgot to turn it on.”

He turns back, succeeds in following the thought to a cryptic “switch” where he elicits a click and a flow of almost visible dead energy. More marvels—apparently these beings can control inanimate powers. If only he could stay and learn! But where is the Beam?

Noah is in the next compartment, busy with a small, obviously, mind-wounded alien. More expectations greet him: it is the same task all over again. His memory is clear, and this being is not in such tumultuous distress. With rising assurance, Giadoc seizes a strand of matter and begins.

“Hey, Doc, not on my ear.”

Somehow Giadoc fumbles through it, expecting every instant to feel the rising energy of the Beam. Meanwhile he is becoming increasingly pleased with himself. His Father’s soul is moved by the trouble of these wretched aliens, but as a Hearer he is fascinated by their chaotic, extraordinary individuality. Nowhere does he find the communal engrams, the shared world-views like those any Tyrenni Father transmits to his young. These beings seem to have had no Fathering; even these mind-experimenters have no real communication. Each is utterly alone. They are aliens to each other.

Giadoc moves from one to the next, manipulating the strange artifacts, dispensing what comfort he can. Meanwhile he has given up trying to decipher roles and genders; he samples the wildly disparate minds —lonely prides, pains, longings, incomprehensible enthusiasms. Each alone in its different structure and quality. What an extraordinary experiment of nature! How lucky he is to have experienced this.

When he is dealing with the sick young male he had met before he has a surprise. In Tedyost’s mind is a scene of rushing, foaming colors. Why, if is almost like the wind of—a place Giadoc will not think of now. There seems to be some beauty on this world too. What a pity he has no time to explore. Tedyost has apparently been banished from his loved place because of his body’s illness. How unjust, Giadoc muses, recalling just in time to “turn on” the thing. In fact, this seems to be an unjust, dangerous world. Well, perhaps Doctordan when he returns will be able to help them. But why is the Beam delaying?

The last test-person is most pitiable of all, a mind almost formless with fear for some missing family-member.

“Listen, Doc, they’ve done something to Ron. I know it.”

Giadoc can only transmit an emergency pressure of calm, leaving “Rick” staring after him. Noah is blasting out impatience for him to go out to the large enclosure and wait. Giadoc complies.

“Two minutes. Everybody ready?”

Kirk is here too, his dog-animal stationed by his side. Giadoc seats himself, thinking that he must not leave Doctordan’s body to fall downward when the Beam returns, as it surely must any moment now. Hungry for knowledge, he scans the cryptic energy of the “computer.” Oh, for more time!

“Fifteen hundred, three o’clock. Start!”

Nothing happens for an instant—and then a roar on the life-bands rips through the air so fiercely that Giadoc almost retracts his scan.

“A-B-A-J-M! A-B-A-J-M! A-B-A-J-M!”

Great winds, it’s Terenc!

He must have entered the distant test-person, the one in the water-pod somewhere. Now he is acting out his part. His nonsensical repeating signal is so strong it’s bringing fuzzy imagery-scraps. As Giadoc is noticing these, his alien ears are assailed by a yell from Rick.