Doris Lessing - The Sirian Experiments

I had long been considering the Canopean ways of re-juvenation and re-issue. I have given a good deal of time to this problem since. And I want to make the point at this time that I consider we, Sirius, would do well to master these other techniques.

There is nothing we do not know about substitution and prosthetics. We replace parts of the body as fast as they wear out. I do not think there is an organ or a tissue in me that was Ambien II in pre-Disaster time, let alone even what the Canopeans call the First Time. There is nothing left even of what made up my being when I was whirled about the skies during the “events.” Even the ichor in my veins has been replaced many times. But these transplants and transfusions are costly in time and patience. Yes, I know that the argument will be that a vast quantity of admirable technicians would be put out of work; that many skills and techniques would become redundant. But this is a question falls under the heading of the existential problem, question, or dilemma. If we have answered that, in all other fields, by always accepting advances in knowledge even at the cost of falling populations, as classes of work become obsolete, then it is consistent for us to consider whether we should adopt the Canopean ways of self-perpetuation. How simple to “die”—and to take on new physical equipment. After all, it is not even necessary to go through the tedious business of having to endure infancy and childhood—they learned to bypass all that. How pettifogging and even pedantic the Canopean attitude to outworn physical equipment makes ours look! We patch and preserve—they throw an inefficient body aside and step into a new one without fuss, sentimentality, or regret.

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.