Part 21 (1/2)

”Shut up,” Harvey said. He c.o.c.ked his arm back to throw the animal.

”Harvey,” Sagan said. ”Don't throw it directly at the gun, please.”

Harvey suddenly realized that the trajectory of the projectiles would lead directly back to his body. ”Sorry,” he said. ”Stupid of me.”

”Throw it up,” Sagan said. ”Way up.” Harvey shrugged and launched the thing high into the air, in an arc that took the thing away from the three of them. The creature writhed in midair. The gun tracked the creature as far up as it could, roughly fifty degrees up. It rotated and shot the thing apart as soon as it came back into its range, shredding it with a spray of thin needles that expanded on contact with the poor creature's flesh. In less than a second there was nothing left of the thing but mist and a few chunks falling to the ground.

”Very nice,” Harvey said. ”Now we know the guns really work. And I'm still hungry.”

”That's very interesting,” Sagan said.

”That I'm hungry?” Harvey said.

”No, Harvey,” Sagan said, irritated. ”I don't actually give a d.a.m.n about your stomach right now. What's interesting is that the guns can only target up to a certain angle. They're ground suppression.”

”So?” Harvey said. ”We're on the ground.”

”Trees,” Seaborg said, suddenly. ”Son of a b.i.t.c.h.”

”What are you thinking, Seaborg?” Sagan asked.

”In training, Dirac and I won a war game by sneaking up on the opposing side in the trees,” he said. ”They were expecting us to attack from the ground. They never bothered looking up until we got right up on them. Then I almost fell out of the tree and nearly got myself killed. But the idea idea worked.” worked.”

The three of them turned to look at the trees inside their perimeter. They weren't real trees, but the Aristian equivalent: large spindly plants that reached meters high into the sky.

”Tell me we're all having the same bugs.h.i.+t crazy thought,” Harvey said. ”I'd hate to think it was just me.”

”Come on,” Sagan said. ”Let's see what we can do with this.”

”That's insane,” Jared said. ”The Obin wouldn't start a war just because you asked them to.”

”Really?” Boutin said. A sneer crept onto his face. ”And you know this from your vast, personal knowledge of the Obin? Your years of study on the matter? You wrote your doctoral thesis on the Obin?”

”No species would go to war just because you asked them to,” Jared said. ”The Obin don't do anything for anyone else.”

”And they're not now,” Boutin said. ”The war is a means to an end-they want what I can offer them.”

”And what is that?” Jared asked.

”I can give them souls,” Boutin said.

”I don't understand,” Jared said.

”It's because you don't know the Obin,” Boutin said. ”The Obin are a created race-the Consu made them just to see what would happen. But despite rumors to the contrary, the Consu aren't perfect. They make mistakes. And they made a huge mistake when they made the Obin. They gave the Obin intelligence, but what they couldn't do-what they didn't have the capability of doing-was to give the Obin consciousness consciousness.”

”The Obin are conscious,” Jared said. ”They have a society. They communicate. They remember. They think think.”

”So what?” Boutin said. ”Termites have societies. Every species communicates. You don't have to be intelligent to remember-you have a computer in your head that remembers everything you ever do, and it's fundamentally no more intelligent than a rock. And as for thinking, what about thinking requires you to observe yourself doing it? Not a G.o.dd.a.m.ned thing. You can create an entire starfaring race that has no more self-introspection than a protozoan, and the Obin are the living proof of that. The Obin are aware collectively collectively that they exist. But not one of them that they exist. But not one of them individually individually has anything that you would recognize as a personality. No ego. No 'I.'” has anything that you would recognize as a personality. No ego. No 'I.'”

”That doesn't make any sense,” Jared said.

”Why not?” Boutin said. ”What are the trappings of self-awareness? And do the Obin have it? The Obin have no art, art, Dirac. They have no music or literature or visual arts. They comprehend the concept of art intellectually but they have no way to appreciate it. The only time they communicate is to tell each other factual things: where they're going, or what's over that hill or how many people they need to kill. They Dirac. They have no music or literature or visual arts. They comprehend the concept of art intellectually but they have no way to appreciate it. The only time they communicate is to tell each other factual things: where they're going, or what's over that hill or how many people they need to kill. They can't can't lie. They have no moral inhibition against it-they don't actually have any real moral inhibitions against anything-but they can no more formulate a lie than you or I could levitate an object with our mind power. Our brains aren't wired that way; their brains aren't wired that way. Everybody lies. Everybody who is conscious, who has a self-image to maintain. But they don't. They're perfect.” lie. They have no moral inhibition against it-they don't actually have any real moral inhibitions against anything-but they can no more formulate a lie than you or I could levitate an object with our mind power. Our brains aren't wired that way; their brains aren't wired that way. Everybody lies. Everybody who is conscious, who has a self-image to maintain. But they don't. They're perfect.”

”Being ignorant of your own existence is not what I'd call 'perfect,'” Jared said.

”They are are perfect,” Boutin insisted. ”They don't lie. They cooperate perfectly with each other, within the structure of their society. Challenges or disagreements are dealt with in a prescribed manner. They don't backstab. They are perfectly moral because their morals are absolute-hardcoded. They have no vanity and no ambition. They don't even have s.e.xual vanity. They're all hermaphrodites, and pa.s.s their genetic information to each other as casually as you or I would shake hands. And they have no fear.” perfect,” Boutin insisted. ”They don't lie. They cooperate perfectly with each other, within the structure of their society. Challenges or disagreements are dealt with in a prescribed manner. They don't backstab. They are perfectly moral because their morals are absolute-hardcoded. They have no vanity and no ambition. They don't even have s.e.xual vanity. They're all hermaphrodites, and pa.s.s their genetic information to each other as casually as you or I would shake hands. And they have no fear.”

”Every creature has fear,” Jared said. ”Even the non-conscious ones.”

”No,” Boutin said. ”Every creature has a survival instinct. It looks like fear but it's not the same thing. Fear isn't the desire to avoid death or pain. Fear is rooted in the knowledge that what you recognize as yourself can cease to exist. Fear is existential. The Obin are not existential in the slightest. That's why they don't surrender. It's why they don't take prisoners. It's why the Colonial Union fears them, you know. Because they can't be made afraid. What an advantage that is! It's so much of an advantage that if I'm ever in charge of creating human soldiers again, I'm going to suggest stripping out their consciousness.”

Jared shuddered. Boutin noted it. ”Come now, Dirac,” Boutin said. ”You can't tell me that awareness has been a happy happy thing for you. Aware that you've been created for a purpose other than your own existence. Aware of memories of someone else's life. Aware that your purpose is nothing more than to kill the people and things the Colonial Union points you at. You're a gun with an ego. You'd be better off without the ego.” thing for you. Aware that you've been created for a purpose other than your own existence. Aware of memories of someone else's life. Aware that your purpose is nothing more than to kill the people and things the Colonial Union points you at. You're a gun with an ego. You'd be better off without the ego.”

”Horses.h.i.+t,” Jared said.

Boutin smiled. ”Well, fair enough,” he said. ”I can't say I'd want to be without self-awareness, either. And since you're supposed to be me I can't say that I'm surprised you feel the same way.”

”If the Obin are perfect I don't see why they would need you,” Jared said.

”Because they don't see themselves as perfect, of course,” Boutin said. ”They know they lack consciousness, and while individually it might not matter much to them, as a species, it matters a great deal. They saw my work on consciousness-mostly on consciousness transference but also my early notes on recording and storing consciousness entirely. They desired what they thought I could give them. Greatly.”

”Have you given them consciousness?” Jared asked.

”Not yet,” Boutin said. ”But I'm getting close. Close enough to make them desire it even more.”

”'Desire,'” Jared repeated. ”A strong emotion for a species who lacks sentience.”

”Do you know what Obin Obin means?” Boutin asked. ”What the actual word means in the Obin language, when it's not being used to refer to the Obin as a species.” means?” Boutin asked. ”What the actual word means in the Obin language, when it's not being used to refer to the Obin as a species.”

”No,” Jared said.

”It means lacking, lacking,” Boutin said, and c.o.c.ked his head, bemusedly. ”Isn't that interesting? With most intelligent species, if you look back far enough for the etymological roots of what they call themselves, you'll come up with some variation or another of the people. the people. Because every species starts off on their own little home world, convinced they are the absolute center of the universe. Not the Obin. They knew right from the beginning what they were, and the word they used to describe themselves showed they knew that they were missing something every other intelligent species had. They Because every species starts off on their own little home world, convinced they are the absolute center of the universe. Not the Obin. They knew right from the beginning what they were, and the word they used to describe themselves showed they knew that they were missing something every other intelligent species had. They lacked lacked consciousness. It's just about the only truly consciousness. It's just about the only truly descriptive descriptive noun they have. Well, that and noun they have. Well, that and Obinur, Obinur, which means which means home of those who lack home of those who lack. Everything else is just dry as dust. Arist Arist means means third moon third moon. But Obin Obin is remarkable. Imagine if every species named itself after its greatest flaw. We could name our species is remarkable. Imagine if every species named itself after its greatest flaw. We could name our species arrogance arrogance.”

”Why would knowing they lack consciousness matter to them?” Jared asked.

”Why did knowing that she couldn't eat from the tree of knowledge matter to Eve?” Boutin said. ”It shouldn't have mattered but it did. She was temptable-which, if you believe in an all-powerful G.o.d, means G.o.d intentionally put temptation into Eve. Which seems like a dirty trick, if you ask me. There's no reason the Obin should desire sentience. It'll do them no good. But they want it anyway. I think it's possible that the Consu, rather than s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up and creating an intelligence without ego, intentionally created the Obin that way, and then programmed them with the desire for the one thing they could not have.”

”But why?”

”Why do the Consu do anything?” Boutin said. ”When you're the most advanced species around, you don't have to explain yourselves to the rock bangers, which would be us. For our purposes, they might as well be G.o.ds. And the Obin are the poor, insensate Adams and Eves.”

”So this makes you the snake,” Jared said.

Boutin smiled at the backhanded reference. ”Maybe so,” he said. ”And maybe by giving the Obin what they want, I'll force them out of their egoless paradise. They can deal with that. In the meantime, I'll get what I want from this. I'll get my war, and I'll get the end of the Colonial Union.”

The ”tree” the three of them looked at stood about ten meters high and was about a meter in diameter. The trunk was covered with ridges; in a rainfall these could funnel water into the inner part of the tree. Every three meters, larger ridges sprouted a circular array of vines and delicate branches, decreasing in circ.u.mference as they increased in alt.i.tude. Sagan, Seaborg and Harvey watched as the tree swayed in the breeze.