What was it, like me but different?
As I came in, I measured our similarity and differences. Rationally we were identical, or almost so. Emotionally we were different, vastly different. “Marls appear to exist as rationale and emotion,” I reasoned. “Beyond that I cannot go.”
The other Marl perceived me, darted frantically toward me, then slowed. We came together, touched like—like two cautious fish meeting in a dark pool and touching mouths to substantiate identical species.
The other Marl was satisfied with my identity. It leaped frantically at me, raced around me, through me, finally stopped, pervading me, whilevibrating in sheer relief and happiness. I felt the great fear-loneliness in the other Marl begin to recede and in its place came an almost overpowering euphoria. It was contentment, and it stemmed from the basic emotion love. I knew this at once.
I suddenly realized that I too was relieved, that I was no longer sick with fear-loneliness. It was good, this existing of the other within me or simultaneously with me. Or was it I within the other? It sated our fear emotion and made, created a love-euphoria.
“I am happy I found you,” I communicated. “I was lonely for another Marl. You are a Marl?”
The other hesitated, thinking. “No. I am Pat. I am different from you. But it is chiefly emotional. It is good.”
“You are a Pat,” I returned in disappointment. “I had hoped to find another Marl.”
“Don’t be disappointed,” the Pat soothed. “We are alike, really. Almost so. Like—like flame and gas are both substance yet different. We are two types of the same thing. I am no longer frightened. I am no longer lonely. You are good for me.”
I was relieved because I wanted to be. I believed the other Marl—no, the Pat—because I wanted to believe. I did not bother to rationalize. I felt elation.
“Then in that other time, that other place we both belonged to a—a common group, with another name?” I suggested.
“I believe so,” the Pat answered.
“How was it when you came awake?” I asked. “Can you remember?”
“I think so. I recall I was born here in fright because it was all wrong. I was not in my natural state, so it was not right.” The Pat paused to think. “I remember there was great speed and I was born in fright. Were you?”
“No,” I answered. “I was not frightened at first. And I was never frightened to the degree you were. I was mostly lonely, which is related to fear. But when I first conceived of my existence here I was coolly logical. I awakened reasoning—realizing that I existed.”
“I suppose it has to do with our emotional differences,” the Pat beside me or with me or within me communicated.
“Do you recall where in space you came from?” I asked. “I must have been doubting my existence at first so intensely I did not observe. You seem to have taken your own being for granted, thus you were, perhaps, more observant.”
“I—I think so.” The Pat hesitated and I knew it was observing the stars around us. “Yes. Come with me. I think I know where.”
I stayed with the Pat, a part of it, and we lurched through space. Rather, we ceased to exist at one point in space and existed in another. How far? Distances meant nothing.
“It was here,” the Pat informed me finally.
*
Something was wrong here. The interweaving waves of force were all wrong. There was a disorder, a great cancer in space. The waves interfered with the progress of each other all along a great barrier. It was not natural, not like it was elsewhere.
“Something is wrong with the waves of force crossing this area. They interfere with each other. New forces are created. Do you detect it?” I communicated.
“I feel it,” the Pat answered. “It is a sickness in space like—like our loneliness.”
I knew the comparison was ridiculous but I let it pass. “You said you came alive at great speed. I could have been traveling too. We must have plunged into this barrier. It seems to me that emotions must originate in a physical being; perhaps reason could be free, but not emotion. I don’t know. But I have a theory. I believe our physical selves still exist somewhere in space. The barrier, perhaps, interfered with the normal functioning of our mental equipment. We exist at one point in space and we are thinking, experiencing emotions at another point. It’s as if our minds are—are broadcasting our thoughts and emotions far away from our physical selves. Either that, or our rationales were torn free and only our emotions are broadcast. Does that sound logical?”
“Yes,” the Pat agreed, “I believe that is the answer.”
I felt that the Pat was pleased with my theory, that it greatly admired my reasoning. I also perceived that it had no idea what I meant by the explanation. I did not mind.
“You said you were moving at great speed,” I continued. “Can you remember the line, the direction you were traveling in?”
The Pat hesitated only a moment. “Yes. You perceive the star cluster there, the triangular one? My heading was in that direction, but it was changing fast.”
“Then we could find nothing by traveling toward the triangular cluster?”
“No. I was moving in an arc in the direction of the distorted square cluster there. Do you see it?”
“Yes,” I answered, knowing her use of the word see was unconscious. “That is Cetus.”
“Cetus?” The Pat was startled. “How do you know that?”
“I don’t know. The name came to me. It seemed right to call it that.”
“It—it’s all so frightening!”
I had no time for pampering our emotions, though I was at great peace with the Pat so near me. Time might prove vital. “Neither would it do any good to travel in the direction of Cetus,” I said.
“No. No,” the Pat communicated. “If there is any object of matter or force I was a part of in that other existence traveling through space, it is in an arc. The best we can do is take an arbitrary direction between the triangular cluster and the one called Cetus and hope to intercept the object, the other part of me, whatever it is.”
“Come with me,” I ordered.
I discovered the object of mass hurtling through space before the Pat did. It was symmetrical and metallic. I tore myself away from my companion and darted to meet it. I discovered it was a shell, a hollow thing, and I passed inside. There was a room there. There were projections and circles of transparent matter. I experienced the symbol dials.
There were two other creatures seated close to the dials, things of matter, and their substance was protoplasm. But there was no rationale present in either of them. I examined the living matter of the smaller one swiftly. Organs seemed poised in a suspended state. The creature I observed,
