There Is No Darkness

  B’oosa checked the diagram of this level. “That’s right across the corridor we were just in.” He looked at he Linguist but didn’t say anything. “Let’s go check it.”

  We thanked the Kafulta and left. When we stepped out into the neutral air of the corridor I realized I’d been half holding my breath against the cloying atmosphere, As we approached the Bawex airlock, it opened, and two Lobsters beetled out.

  “Two of them,” Pancho said. “That’s something new.”

  The Linguist whistled a little laugh. “Almost everything is new to you. That’s why I enjoy your company so much.”

  Our keys told us we could survive no more than thirty hours inside. If the Dean was in there, he didn’t have much time left.

  “I do vaguely remember this,” Miko said as we walked through the airlock’s second door. It seemed like a hard place for someone to forget.

  The Bawex region was huge and gloomy, very much the opposite of the one we’d just left. Jagged rock formations like stalagmites rose all around us, chalky ghosts in the dim half-light. A warm mist of rain fell silently; wet gravel rattled under our feet. Damp smell of mildew, with a slight chlorine tang.

  “Where are the Bawexians?” B’oosa asked.

  “Patience.”

  Suddenly there were four of them, then six, surrounding us. Serpents, pale white with large heads and long soft bodies. One rose up, taller than me, and spoke, sighing, hissing. Two small frail arms unfolded from under its chin and made languid gestures.

  “It asks whether you are food,” Guide said. “I think that is a joke. Carbohydrates would be poison to them.” The creature’s breath was halogen and rot.

  “Does it remember me?” Miko asked. “Or M’bisa?”

  The creature and Guide exchanged hisses and gestures. “That is not its function, it says. It remembers very little outside of ontology and food. To answer your question would require a breeder-oracle. They stay in a lake about twenty kilometers from here.”

  Miko turned to B’oosa. “Should we go?”

  B’oosa rubbed his chin. “It would take several hours …”

  “And you would go without me,” Guide said. “I have more productive things to do. This place is very uncomfortable.”

  My throat was already raw from the chlorine, and the smell was nauseating me.

  “We can’t stay in here for hours,” Mio said. “Or am I more sensitive to the air than the rest of you?”

  Alegria coughed. “I don’t think I can last another ten minutes. I’ll pass out.”

  “Perhaps you two large ones should go to the lake,” Guide said. “Your keys might allow you a limited kind of communication.”

  “Is he here?” Pancho asked plaintively. “If you won’t go with us, you must —“

  “I cannot tell you things that you must find out for yourselves.”

  I had sidled over next to the Linguist; I suddenly reached out and snatched his arm. “I think I can stand it. But you’re coming with me.”

  He struggled for a second and then went limp. My hand circled his entire arm, cold veins pulsing. “This is very uncivilized.”

  Two more Bawexians reared up. I tightened my grip. “Humans are impetuous,” I said. “Sometimes violent.”

  He roll-blinked several times and stared at me. “Very well. Your Dean is not here. He was gone before we reached this place.”

  I didn’t let go. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  “I have never lied. I cannot lie.”

  “As far as we know, that’s true,” B’oosa said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait,” I said. “I don’t think he likes it here much, either. I think I’ll just hold on until he tells us where to go next.”

  “I cannot tell you things that you must find out for yourselves.”

  “That seems to be a rule that can be broken.”

  “I can live here indefinitely.”

  “And I can stay here for thirty hours. Does that appeal to you?”

  “You won’t do it.”

  That was true. My stomach wasn’t going to make it another hour. I tried to keep that thought out of my mind by repeating over and over the hell I won’t, the hell I won’t, the hell I won’t —

  “All right. One more clue. If you promise not to do any more violence.”

  “I promise. If the clue does help us.”

  “It was on Level 9 that he disappeared. That is all I will tell you.” B’oosa and I nodded at each other and everybody bolted for the airlock.

  We started toward the sled. “Wait,” the Linguist said. “You lied to me in there. You couldn’t have stayed much longer. You subverted my telepathy, on purpose.”

  “That’s right. A man’s life is at stake.”

  “Good joke.” He covered his face and made that damned whistling noise. “You humans will develop a sense of humor yet.”

  “You find death so amusing. Don’t Linguists ever die?”

  Guide was seized by a fit of whistling. “You do have a sense of humor,” he gasped between whistles.

  “No,” I said. “I’m serious.”

  He wagged his head. “Always serious. Serious, violent, untruthful, ignorant. I don’t know why we let you visit.”

  “Please … I really would like to know.”

  “A joke isn’t funny if you have to explain it.”

  “Please.”

  “Oh, all right. Occasionally, very rarely, a Linguist will cease to exist in his corporate state. It s considered very bad, a very low form of humor. We call it ‘acting-like-an-animal’. Like some other things, dying is done routinely only by lower forms of life. It doesn’t look as if it would be very interesting.”

  “Then your race is immortal?”

  “Technically, no. Given enough time, anyone will make an error in judgment. Enough errors, and sooner or later … well. You know. Acting-like-an-animal.”

  “What you mean is, you can only die by accident?”

  “There is no such thing as an accident. Only errors in judgment. Any action has associated with it a set of possible results, of varying probability. All must be taken into account. We Linguists have the ability to visualize a nearly infinite number of possible consequences to any given action. If an action has among its possible results a finite probability of acting-like-an-animal, we choose another action. Is that so difficult to understand?”

  “No.” Had he calculated the probability of my crushing the life out of him a few minutes ago? I noticed that he was keeping his distance.

  B’oosa was looking at the diagram as we got into the sled. “What part of Level 9 do we want?”

  “I have told you what I will tell you.”

  He nodded, not looking up. “Most of the level is taken up by the Oomo. Might as well start there.”

  We went up one level and slowed to make a transverse change. There were three Lobsters at the loading dock there, getting into a sled. Even Guide gave them a long look. We picked up speed and they slid out of sight.

  Two more shifts of direction and we arrived at the entrance. Our keys said that we could exist inside for almost a month. I noticed Guide’s key said he could stay for an indefinite period of time. As usual.

  We stepped into a golden landscape. It was totally alien, but irresistibly beautiful. Emerald green buildings reached magnificently into the sky., their glossy sides a pleasant contrast to the soft gold clouds and wheat-like grasses that swayed in the gentle breeze. The air was light, but sweet. It had the faint taste of cloves, a touch of other fragrant spices. A very calm and peaceful place.

  An alien approached us from the nearby city, skimming over the top of the grasses on a small platform. At first I thought he was slimy and covered with scales, but as he got closer I could see he was furry. He resembled a child’s stuffed animal, a friendly teddy bear with large brown eyes. I liked him right away.

  “Welcome, Humankind,” he said, settling down in front of us. His voice had a ripple to it, like water over a rocky
bed. It was a nice sound. “We do not often have visitors from your race. Please make yourself at home. Enjoy.”

  It would be an easy place to do just that. Enjoy. The light breeze brought the echo of chimes far away, the sound of easy laughter from the city. It was hard to concentrate on our task. The alien reached out and touched each of us as he introduced himself. His name was Pagoo and his touch was soft.

  “We’re looking for someone,” I said, trying to focus in on the Dean. “A human, shorter than me, black with white hair.”

  Pagoo smiled and warmth radiated from him. “I have not seen him, but perhaps he will come. You should wait.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” said Pancho. “I like this place.”

  I wasn’t sure if that would be the right thing to do or not. But as I thought it over it seemed more and more like the best course of action. This was a nice place. The Dean was bound to show up sooner or later and we could wait for him. The fragrant air and distant chimes were soothing. A person could forget his troubles in a place like this. It would probably be good to wait. The Dean would come. We might as well be comfortable while we waited. I nodded at Pancho and looked for the others. Miko and Alegria were running through the golden fields, laughing. B’oosa was bent over a flower, examining it closely. It was a beautiful flower and he looked happy. It would be a nice place to stay.

  Pagoo seemed pleased with our decision. There would be a big feast with much singing, dancing and laughter. They would make a festive occasion out of it. The festival would last a long time: hours, days, weeks; it didn’t matter. They were a joyous people and spreading happiness was what they liked to do best. It was rare that so many humans came to visit. They would make the most of it.

  The more I talked with Pagoo, the happier I felt. These were truly wonderful, friendly people.

  B’oosa walked over to us. I noticed he had picked the flower and was absently brushing his face with it. Pancho gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder. They both grinned, though B’oosa’s face quickly slipped into a concerned frown.

  “I’m worried, Carl,” he said.

  “How can you be worried?” I asked. “Everything is just fine.”

  “That’s the trouble. We have problems. We should be doing something to find the Dean. Everything is not fine. Why should we feel that way?”

  Pagoo ruffled his fur and I was almost bowled over by a feeling of well-being. Never in my life had I been so content. “Aren’t you happy?” I asked B’oosa.

  “Yes, but …” Again a wave of absolute joy swept over me. I almost cried with sheer pleasure.

  B’oosa had a strained expression on his face, like he was fighting something. Why didn’t he just relax and feel good like the rest of us? It was easy. Even Guide …

  No, that wasn’t right. I’d lost track of the Linguist. Where was he? I looked around for him and saw him standing next to the exit. He didn’t look like he was having fun, though with a Linguist it’s hard to tell.

  “We have to go,” said B’oosa. He was sweating, his jaw clenched tight, his hands drawn into hard fists. “It’s very … important. We … must … leave.” He drew labored breaths between words.

  I couldn’t understand what he was getting so worked up about. The more forceful he got, the more relaxed and at ease I felt.

  “There’s no hurry,” I said. “We can wait for the Dean. When he comes we can leave.”

  “He’s not coming, Carl. Can’t you see that? This is a trap, a deadly trap. If we stay here we’ll never leave.”

  I didn’t care if I left or not. All my troubles seemed so far away that they didn’t matter at all. There were far worse places to play out one’s allotted years. Besides, I could leave if I wanted to. Nobody was holding me here.

  B’oosa grabbed Pancho. I couldn’t understand why he was doing that. Pancho didn’t resist, just smiled as the large Maasai’pyan lifted him up and carried him to the exit. I shrugged my shoulders toward Pagoo. There was no accounting for what some people would do. I was rewarded by a rush of total delight. I laughed and the singing wind carried it away to be shared.

  B’oosa had pushed Pancho into the airlock and was in the process of running down Miko. It seemed like a game. Miko was clearly having fun avoiding him. They ran in large circles around us, Miko hooting with pleasure as he dodged B’oosa. I cheered both of them on, thinking how nice it was to play a game which had no winner, because there could be no losers, no bad feelings. Soon B’oosa’s long legs made the difference and he caught Miko. Even then Miko didn’t lose. He didn’t seem to mind at all as B’oosa carried him off to join Pancho.

  I watched with amused detachment as B’oosa returned to get Alegria. Such a silly game. After he got her he returned to me.

  “I’ve got to do this, Carl,” he said in a very serious voice.

  I laughed. It was all so silly. He ought to go back and bring the others so that we could all have fun.

  He came at me and I giggled. I couldn’t help it; he looked absurd with that frown. It was out of place. He tried to hit me and I dodged, doing a little skipping dance as I moved away from him. I taunted him. We were playing a child’s game. It was fun. When he got close to me I pushed him away with my longer arms. He got so frustrated it really broke me up.

  Somehow he tripped me. The ground was soft. There didn’t seem to be anything here that could hurt me. He jumped on top of me. I liked wrestling. I tickled him. Instead of tickling me back, he reached for the side of my neck and pressed down hard. Why would he do a thing like that?

  It hurt.

  I didn’t want to be hurt.

  Everything else felt good.

  It hurt.

  Everything else went black.

  * * *

  Cobwebs. Cinders in my mouth. I felt terrible. It was an effort to open my eyes. Someone was talking to me.

  “I’m sorry, Carl,” said the voice. “It was the only way.” The voice belonged to B’oosa.

  I pulled myself up to a sitting position with great difficulty and looked around. We were on the loading dock. My head felt like it had been split in two.

  “You understand what a trap that was, don’t you?” asked B’oosa.

  I started to shake my head, but that hurt too much. “You really caught me one,” I said.

  “Had to. They would have kept us there until we died.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “We were seduced,” said B’oosa. “Seduced into feelings of well-being and extreme happiness. It’s partly physiological, partly psychological. The Oomo are quite adept at it.” He shot an angry look at Guide. “The Linguists knew it all along.”

  “Why didn’t you warn us?” I asked Guide.

  “It is not our duty to warn. I cannot tell you things that you should find out by yourselves.”

  “It could have killed us,” said B’oosa.

  Guide started whistling again. I could have killed him.

  “Those keys you gave us are pretty good at warning us about physical dangers,” I said. “Why can’t they warn us about other types as well?”

  “What dangers? I saw no threatening situations.”

  “I’d call psychological manipulation like that pretty threatening. We should have been warned.”

  “Emotions and psychological stability are highly variable even within a given species,” said Guide. “It would be fruitless to try and estimate the threshold points. Your friend managed to break free.”

  “It wasn’t easy,” said B’oosa.

  “No one said it would be easy. You humans are slaves to emotions. I find that ridiculous, time-consuming, and often self-defeating. You are almost as bad as the Oomo. They have completely lost out to their emotions. Once they discovered how to stay happy and content all the time, they stopped developing as a race. They haven’t done anything in the last five hundred years except smile … and make others smile.”

  In spite of what I had just gone through, I wasn’t sure that was an entirely bad path to
follow. Progress may have stopped for them, but they were satisfied. I’d seen a lot of people who were continually striving but never happy. Who was to say which was better? Not me.

  B’oosa was helping Pancho to his feet. A sled whipped by with several Lobsters inside. They were really on the move.

  “We seem to be at a dead end,” said Alegria. “Where should we go from here?”

  No one spoke up. Certainly Guide would never make a suggestion. As I looked up the tube at the disappearing sled something occurred to me.

  “Why are there so many Lobsters around?” I asked Guide. “I thought they usually stay in one place.”

  “They do,” he answered. “It is not unknown for a single individual to remain in one sector for centuries.”

  “Then why are so many of them traveling in the sleds?”

  “I do not know,” said Guide. “Their actions are unpredictable. We know next to nothing about them except that they are a sentient race. They have never communicated with any of us and we are unable to touch them telepathically. It is unknown whether their non-communication is due to a lack of ability or a lack of desire on their part.”

  “I think we ought to follow them.”

  “Why?” asked Miko.

  “Why not?” I said. “Does anyone have a better idea?”

  No one did. We were running out of options.

  We climbed into a sled and Guide took us to the Lobster’s sector. As I had expected, it was one of those areas opaqued from the tube. Several of them entered just before us. I slipped in my key. It said we had roughly four days.

  As before, Guide was given an indefinite period of time. Linguists and Lobsters seemed to be able to go anywhere they wanted.

  We entered as a group, with Guide taking up the rear. B’oosa was in front, Pancho was beside me. He was having second thoughts about going inside.

  “I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he said as the airlock cycled. “I can’t stand those Lobsters. Besides, they couldn’t have taken the Dean against his will. They’re far too weak. They can hardly get around by themselves.”