Sentenced to Prism

  "Of course it is not, but everyone is designed to carry out a primary function, and yours is that of library. Your plug design confirms it."

  "I wish you'd quit talking about that." He was trying to keep from thinking about the particulars of the place where the pair of alien probes actually pierced his brain.

  Were all humans like that? Was everyone walking around unknowingly in possession of a tiny, unused organ designed for intimate communication with individuals of other species? If so, what did that say about convergent evolution, not to mention the potential theological impli­cations? Had all intelligent life, even the utterly alien silicon‑based life of Prism, come from some primeval basic design? Did the thranx and the AAnn possess similar organs?

  If so, it pointed toward revelations so immense as to barely be imagined. If confirmed it would be a discovery vast enough to overwhelm everything else that had been learned since man had taken his first tentative step out­ward from the home world.

  He couldn't deal with it. He was too busy just trying to live through the day. If this caterpillar, this Azure, could facilitate survival by sticking a couple of glass fibers into his ear, then he would gladly accept the intrusion.

  "What does a scout do?"

  "Like anything else, it defines itself, but since you desire elaboration: a scout ranges far from the Associative on its behalf. My task is to gather knowledge of the world that surrounds the Associative, of good places to mine the minerals and the metals necessary to our health, and to keep watch out for and provide warning of potential dangers."

  "This Associative, it's like a town, a community? So there are others like you?"

  "There are a few other scouts, of course."

  "No, I didn't mean that." Evan tried to think of another way to phrase the question. "I mean, there's a larger grouping of you, some of whom perform other functions on behalf of the community?"

  "Certainly. What else would an Associative consist of? Are not your own Associatives comprised of individuals who specialize?"

  "That's right. I'm a specialist myself. A specialist in generalities, if that's not too confusing. Though I'm not getting a clear picture of what you mean when you say specialize. It seems to mean something more than what I think of when I use the same term." He paused to rub his forehead.

  "More pain?"

  "Not really. It's just a dull throbbing when you talk at me, like a weak headache."

  "That sounds like an affliction peculiar to soft forms."

  "You don't experience mental stress to the point of discomfort?"

  "Not physically. A soft‑form conception." Azure was silent for a long moment before announcing brightly, "I have come up with a descriptive for you. I will call you Flexible Modular Argumentative Random‑Motion Car­bon Concentrate."

  "Evan will do nicely."

  "You have this preference for nondescriptive identifi­cation," the alien grumbled disappointedly.

  "We have enough trouble making ourselves understood to one another. Look on it as a communications saver."

  "If it will make you feel more comfortable." Azure still didn't sound convinced.

  "It will. Let me ask you something." Evan turned to point back toward the distant but still identifiable depres­sion where he'd nearly been bled to death. "The syaruzi, as you call them, were after the trace elements in my blood."

  "The metals and minerals in the liquid part of your body, yes."

  "They don't interest you? These fibers you've got stuck in my head, they're only there for communications purposes? You're not having this nice, polite conversation with me and simultaneously draining me of some vital trace substance like zinc, are you?"

  Azure's shock was almost palpable. "Certainly not! Some creatures obtain what they need of important ele­ments by stealing them from the bodies of others, but the majority extract them directly from the ground. I will unplug and show you."

  "All right."

  He braced himself, but there was no pain as the alien broke the connection. The two tendrils slipped cleanly and bloodlessly out his ear. Azure released his grasp on Evan's shoulders and jumped to the ground, absorbing the shock easily through his ten legs.

  Finding a suitable patch of ground, he cleared away the bubble grass, lowered his head, and began sucking up the sandy soil beneath through a short, flexible snout. He kept at it for a couple of minutes, then looked back up at Evan and buzzed. Despite the warning, Evan flinched when the alien jumped back onto his shoulders. The alien. It had a name, didn't it? It was intelligent, wasn't it?

  It was much harder and required a supreme effort of will for Evan to stand motionless with his hands at his sides while Azure reinserted the communications tendrils into his skull.

  Chapter Eight

  It didn’t help that he was fully conscious while the procedure was being carried out. He could feel the slick fibers sliding smoothly into his ear, past the tympanum and farther into his head. Again, there was no pain, only a faint coolness. There was no feeling of being "plugged in." But when the tendrils had ceased moving, the throbbing voice returned.

  "I sense your unease," Azure murmured. "There is no reason for such discomfort. The plug is there because it is meant to be used."

  "I know a surgeon who'd like to talk to you about that."

  "A surgeon? You mean, a physician? Perhaps you can talk to mine."

  Evan was immediately interested. What revelations could a silicate shaman provide? How did one go about repairing damage to creatures composed of silicon and beryllium and boron alloys?

  "I have never encountered anything like you," Azure said.

  Evan smiled slightly. "I have a number of acquain­tances who've said more or less the same thing to me."

  "You must come from a place," and here he (Evan had come to think of his friend as a "he," though from all indications thus far Azure was quite asexual) used a term which did not translate well, "far away."

  "Farther than you can imagine." Finding a comfortable place, Evan sat down and did his best to explain himself, his origins, and his reason for being on Azure's world.

  The alien responded quickly when Evan had finished. "Fascinatinger and fascinatinger! You must come hack to the Associative with me and tell all this to the libraries."

  "You have more than one?"

  "Certainly. Ours is a progressive Associative."

  "You must have acquired a lot of books."

  "What are books?"

  Now it was Evan's turn to be confused. "Books, and tapes, and related storage materials are what go into a library."

  "Storage materials. That much I understand."

  "I can't go with you just now, Azure. Much as I'd like to, I can't." He displayed his wrist, with the steadily glowing beacon. "I have to try and find this other human. I told you about that."

  Azure considered. "But you are not certain as to your colleague's location?"

  "No. I can only use this to take me into her general vicinity. Then I have to make a visual search and hope I get lucky."

  "Perhaps we can help. There is nothing unusual about the frequency of your little broadcasting unit." He indi­cated the beacon with a pair of legs. "Come back with me and I will put your problem to our talkers. They can accurately locate anyone broadcasting."

  Evan frowned. It seemed highly unlikely that Azure's people possessed anything as sophisticated as a direc­tional locator‑ hadn't he already confessed an ignorance of tools? And what was a talker? Still, if there was any­thing to what his friend claimed, it could lead him directly to Ophemert's body and save him days of wandering around in the glittering, hostile forest.

  "All right. Let's see what these `talkers' of yours can do.

  "Excellent! Most pleasuring." Azure gave a twist to show his delight. The bright green eyes passed several times over Evan's form. "But first we must do something about your vulnerability. We must try to get you an exo­skeleton of sorts. You cannot go walking about as you are, soft‑bodied and defenseless. You say that
your own exoskeleton, this suit or whatever it is, is now of no use to you?"

  "I'm afraid so. With its systems dead there's no way I could move it under my own power."

  "Another strange concept." He rose on his rear six legs and surveyed the surrounding flora, finally gesturing with his mouthparts. "First we must do something about your sensitive vision. This way."

  Evan followed the alien a short distance into a thick clump of trees. They halted before a growth almost wor­thy of the name. Brown globes grew directly upon a gray brown trunk. There were no leaves or branches, but nei­ther did Evan see any of the ubiquitous photoreceptors. This was a carbon‑based structure, the nearest thing to a real tree he'd seen since setting down on Prism.

  A mound of broken globes had accumulated around the base of the tree. "Kneel, please," Azure said. Evan did so. As he bent, the alien reached up and pulled the strip of flimsy plastic from Evan's eyes.

  "Hey, I need that!"

  "Not any longer, I hope." Azure disconnected, still holding on to the plastic film, and dropped to the ground.

  Already Prism's overpowering light was starting tears from Evan's eyes. He squinted hard, trying to follow the alien's actions. "Come on, give it back." Useless admo­nition. He was unplugged.

  Azure appeared to be doing something with the silicate debris, glancing occasionally back at the crouching human, then sorting through fragments of shattered globe. Even­tually selecting a couple of choice shards, he began trim­ming and adjusting them. Evan watched as the alien's mouthparts cut through the tough material as though it was paper. He could easily imagine what they could do to his own flesh if Azure took a sudden dislike to him.

  More speculative glances in Evan's direction. The globular fragments had been cut and glued into four sec­tions, two straight and curved, two round and bubblelike. These four became one under Azure's skillful claws.

  When he was finished the result was handed to Evan. It was a remarkably polished piece of work and might have come out of a machine instead of an alien mouth. Evan slipped the straight bars over his ears and hooked them together in back of his head. The twin hemispheres they were connected to in front fit neatly over his eyes. They were a bit large and probably gave him the aspect of a giant bug, but he wasn't much interested in appear­ances.

  The brown silicate screened out most of the sun's rays and the painful reflections of the surrounding growths. For the first time since he'd been forced to abandon the

  HW, he could see clearly and without difficulty. A light, warm rain began to fall.

  "How did you know?" He bent again and allowed Azure to climb back onto his shoulders and remesh. "How did you know?"

  "The purpose of the thin material wrapped around your face was self‑evident and obviously inefficient," Azure replied. He gestured toward the strip of plastic now lying crumpled on the ground. "I thought pieces of Eria fruit would serve better. It is better?"

  "It's wonderful. Can't thank you enough." He sur­veyed the terrain, luxuriating in being able to open his eyes fully for the first time in days. "Which way now?"

  "We are not finished here yet."

  "Whatever you say." What else did Azure have in mind for him? Another pair of glasses, perhaps, fashioned from some darker material?

  Azure directed him through the forest until they were confronted by a small pool. This one stood by itself, with no visible outlet. As might be expected, the water was murky and rich with diatomous swarms.

  "Get in," Azure told him.

  "What?" Evan eyed the soupy broth uncertainly.

  "Immerse yourself‑and be sure to keep your head above water."

  "Why? What's the danger?"

  "No danger. Just a precaution a soft form needs to take."

  Evan leaned over and tried to penetrate the mystery of the pool. "What's going to happen to me?"

  "You need protection. The pool will provide it." When Evan continued to hesitate, Azure added, with a hint of exasperation, "Have I done anything to cause you harm?"

  "No‑o‑o‑o." Evan considered. It was only water. He could always get out fast if that seemed necessary.

  He stepped in and slowly assumed a supine position, his head resting on the dry bank. Warm water began to leak in around his light clothing. Something began to irri­tate his legs.

  He reached down to scratch but was forestalled by Azure, who had crawled onto the shore near his head, still plugged in to his tall soft friend.

  "Don't do that. Relax and let the froporia do its work."

  Evan did as he was told, though the crawling sensation intensified and it was an effort to keep his hands at his sides. It wasn't painful; merely uncomfortable. He lifted his head to look down at himself.

  A thin layer of silica was forming on his body. As it took hold, his clothing was split and torn from beneath. The loss of the light undersuit didn't upset him too much. It was frayed and torn already anyway. The process was fascinating to observe. Millions of microscopic creatures were cementing themselves together no more than a centimeter above his skin, in much the same way corals form barrier reefs, only the process was occurring infinitely faster.

  He twisted and turned slightly. Where there was resis­tance, the froporia allowed more room for movement. He began to work his way down his own body, moving the thickening formation farther from his skin at joints and creases, flexing his muscles individually where possible. When the coating was a centimeter or so thick, growth ceased.

  Obeying Azure's instructions, he lay as still as he could for several hours, whereupon his friend said, "You may get up now."

  Evan glanced down at the creamy white wrapping encasing him, tried to bend his legs. The formation was as unyielding as metal. "How?"

  "How indeed? I forgot."

  "You forgot?" Evan fought to keep any suggestion of panic out of his thoughts. If he'd been deceived all this time and had gone and packaged himself for leisurely consumption . . .

  Azure trundled forward and grasped Evan by the shoulders. With unexpected strength, he pulled the encased human clear of the pool. Then he began working on Evan's body, cutting and secreting fluid at the joints. As soon as Evan divined what he was doing, he offered 'suggestions and instructions.

  First the right arm was loosened at shoulder, elbow, and wrist, then the left. The fingers were last and Azure moved on to work on the torso. Eventually the work was completed and the alien resumed its position on Evan's shoulders.

  "I'm going to stand up now," he informed his seg­mented friend. It took a little work, as stiff as his new suit was. Prism had provided him with new armor. It was creamy white and light as a graphite composite. He won­dered if it was as tough as it seemed.

  "The froporia are strong indeed," Azure assured him. "That is how they protect themselves, by encasing those who would eat them. Out of the water, they die. We have fashioned you a new exoskeleton out of many smaller ones."

  A walking graveyard, Evan mused. Not a pretty thought, but he wasn't about to give up his new armor out of sorrow. Besides, the pool appeared as full of life now as it had been when he'd first lain down in it.

  Not that he doubted Azure, but he was curious to see just what his new suit was capable of. He found a rock that weighed a good five kilos and with some trepidation dropped it on his right foot. It bounced off without so much as scratching the smooth white surface. A good beginning. He picked up the rock a second time, raised it over his head, and slammed it down on his big toe as hard as he could. His wince was purely mental. Once again the rock bounced harmlessly away. Whatever the white substance was composed of, it had very little give. He stared down at his uninjured foot, wondering what other surprises his primitive friend held in store. Perhaps even something like a "talker" that could pinpoint the location of the Ophemert beacon. He fingered his new silicate sunshades and grinned.

  Inside the safety of a suit again Evan felt more like his old confident self, even if that suit had been grown in an alien pond by diatomous fauna instead of hav
ing rolled off the assembly line of one of Samstead's factories.

  "There are those dangerous creatures which can pen­etrate a froporia shell," Azure informed him, "but they are not common. I regret having to leave your head exposed, but being a soft thing I assume you require the constant ingestion of gas to sustain life."

  "I have to breathe, if that's what you mean." He tapped his armored chest. "This will do nicely, thanks."

  He flexed his left hand, enjoying the free play of his fngers where Azure had softened the joints. Having destroyed his original suit, Prism had thoughtfully pro­vided him with a new one. Best of all, after the dark brown sunshades Azure had fashioned for him, were his pure white "boots." Now he could stride with indifference through piles of razor‑sharp silicate fragments and sword­like growths.

  A part of his anatomy higher than his feet gave a twinge, warning him of one area that still had to be dealt with. He explained it to Azure, who listened thoughtfully. After all, he was familiar with waste products even if his were of afar more solid composition than those of purely organic lifeforms.

  Disconnecting temporarily, he made the necessary modifications. Evan experimented with both and was relieved to find that they worked as smoothly as the rest of his suit, and he marveled yet again at the tower of bright golden crystals which sprang from the ground sev­eral minutes after he'd concluded.

  The patient organisms living in Prism's soil had pounced upon the unexpected uric bonanza to utilize the valuable salts contained therein. The delicate crystalline structure which had risen in the wake of his twinge was the result.

  He rose and let ‑Azure plug in. "Let's go find your village and see what these `talkers' of yours can do."

  "It is not a village, if I understand the term correctly," Azure replied primly even as he gestured to the west. Evan started off in the indicated direction, striding con­fidently through the glittering forest. "It is an association of free specialized individuals. An Associative."

  "All right then, an Associative." As he walked, Evan searched the forest floor for something that would make a better weapon than his silica staff. "Tell me something. You're completely independent. You get your energy directly from the sun, so there's no need to cooperate in hunting. Why bother with an association? Seems to me that you don't need anyone but yourself. Why live together with others of your kind? Just for company?"