Gordon Dickson - Dorsai!

Donal’s mind reached out and enclosed the problem of what Sayona would, this moment, be saying to Anea.

“…And then he went around the room, a little before the voting.” Sayona’s voice was now murmuring in the lounge behind him. “He said a word here, and a word there — nothing important. But when he was done, he had them in the palm of his hand. It was just as it was last month when he mingled with the delegates to the full parliament.”

“Yes,” replied Anea. “I can see it how it was.”

“Do you understand?” asked Sayona, looking at her keenly.

“No,” she said, serenely. “But I’ve seen it. He blazes — blazes — like an atomic flare among a field full of little campfires. Their small lights fade when they get too close to him. And he hoods his light, when he’s amongst them, to keep from blinding them.”

“Then you’re not sorry — ?”

“Sorry!” Her happy laugh tore his question to foolish ribbons.

“I know,” said Sayona, soberly, “what effect he has on men. And I can guess his effect on other women. Are you sure you’ve got no regrets?”

“How could I?” But she looked at him suddenly, questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“That’s why I’ve come tonight,” said Sayona. “I’ve got something to tell you… if I can ask you a question after I’m through?”

“What kind of question?” she queried sharply.

“Let me tell you first,” he said. “Then you can answer or not, whichever you like. It’s nothing that can touch you — now. Only I should have told you before. I’m afraid I’ve put it off, until… well, until there was no more putting off possible. What do you know about your own gene history, Anea?”

“Why,” she looked at him, “I know all about it.”

“Not this part,” said Sayona. “You know you were bred for certain things—” He put one old, slim hand on the edge of her float in a gesture that begged for understanding.

“Yes. Mind and body,” she answered, watching him.

“And more,” said Sayona. “It’s hard to explain in a moment. But you know what was behind Montor’s science, don’t you? It treated the human race as a whole, as a single social entity, self-repairing in the sense that as its individual components die off they are replaced by the birth of new components. Such an entity is manipulable under statistical pressures, in somewhat the same manner that a human being may be manipulated by physical and emotional pressures. Increase the temperature of a room in which a man stands, and he will take off his jacket. This was William’s key to power.”

“But—” she stared at him. “I’m an individual—”

“No, no. Wait,” Sayona held up his hand. “That was Montor’s science. Ours on the Exotics had somewhat the same basis, but a differing viewpoint. We regarded the race as manipulable through its individuals, as an entity in a constant state of growth and evolution by reason of the birth of improved individuals among the mass that constituted it. Gene-selection, we believed, was the key to this — both natural or accidental, and controlled.”

“But it is!” said Anea.

“No,” Sayona shook his head slowly. “We were wrong. Manipulation by that approach is not truly possible; only analysis and explanation. It is adequate for an historian, for the meditative philosopher. And such, Anea, have we of the Exotics been, wherefore it seemed not only valid, but complete, to us.

“But manipulation by that means is possible only in small measure — very small. The race is not controllable from within the race; such gene-selection as we did could use only those characteristics which we already knew and understood. And it repelled us from those genes which we detected, and could not understand, and, of course, we could not work with ones we did not know existed, or could exist.

“We were, without seeing the fact, crippled both at the beginning and the end; we had only the middle. We could not conceive of characteristics to breed toward — goals — which were not already presented to us, and already understood by us. That was the proper end, however — truly new characteristics. And the beginning was, necessarily, truly new genes, and gene-combinations.

“The problem was stated long ago; we deceived ourselves that the statement was not meaningful. Simply, it is this; could a congress of gorillas, gathered to plan the breeding of the supergorilla, plan a human being? Discard the line of development of mightier muscles, stronger and longer teeth, greater specialization to master their tropical environment?

“Manipulation of the race from within the race is a circular process. What we can do, the valuable thing we can do, is to stabilize, conserve, and spread the valuable genetic gifts that come to us from outside our own domain.

“William — and you must have known this better than any one else, Anea — belongs to that small and select group of men who have been the conquerors of history. There’s a name, you know, for this rare and freakish individual — but a name means nothing by itself. It’s only a tag hung on something we never completely understood. Such men are unopposable — they can do great good. But also, usually, an equally great deal of harm, because they are uncontrolled. I’m trying to make you understand something rather complex. We, on the Exotics, spotted William for what he was when he was still in his early twenties. At that time the decision was taken to select the genes that would result in you.”

“Me!” She stiffened suddenly, staring at him.

“You.” Sayona bent his head to her briefly. “Didn’t you ever wonder that you were so instinctively opposed to William in everything he did? Or why he was so perversely insistent on possessing your contract? Or why we, back on Kultis, allowed such an apparently unhappy relationship to continue?”

Anea shook her head slowly. “I… I must have. But I don’t remember—”

“You were intended as William’s complement, in a psychological sense.” Sayona sighed. “Where his instincts were for control for the sake of controlling, yours were towards goals, purposes, and you did not care who controlled so long as the control was directed toward that purpose. Your eventual marriage — which we aimed for — would have, we hoped, blended the two natures. You would have acted as the governor William’s personality needed. The result would have been beneficial… we thought.”

She shuddered. “I’d never have married him.”

“Yes,” said Sayona with a sigh, “you would have. You were designed — if you’ll forgive the harsh word — to react at full maturity to whatever man in the galaxy stood out above all others.” A little of Sayona’s gravity lifted for a moment, and a twinkle crept into his eyes. “That, my dear, was by no means difficult to provide for; it would have been near impossible to prevent it! Surely you see that the oldest and greatest of the female instincts is to find and conserve the strength of the strongest male she can discover. And the ultimate conservation is to bear his children.”

“But — there was Donal!” she said, her face lighting up.

“Quite so,” Sayona chuckled. “If the strongest male in the galaxy were wrongly directed, misusing his great strength — still, for the sake of the great value of that strength, you would have sought him out. Strength, abilities, are tools; these are important. How they are used is a separate matter.

“But with Donal on the scene… Well, he was the ruin of all our theories, all our plans. The product of one of those natural accidents, outside our domain, a chance combining of genes even superior to William’s. The blending of a truly great line of thinkers, with an equally great line of doers.