thereafter what was communicated was exactly what had been decided would be communicated, no more and no less. So while the Giants were a function of the ‘mind’ of Canopus, they would not know anything that Canopus did not want them to know. Nor were conditions always perfect for exchange of ‘thought’. For instance, there was a period of more than a hundred years when no exchange of specific information was possible, because of interference from a certain configuration in a nearby solar system, temporarily out of phase with Canopus. The interchange of fuels went on, but subtler currents were interdicted until the star in question changed its disposition in the celestial dance.
‘Were you measuring the vibrations of the column for any reason?’ I asked at last.
‘Yes.’
‘You have noticed something wrong?’
‘Yes.’
‘You have no idea of what it might be?’ I was eager, as can be seen, to introduce Shammat, for on what I learned would depend so much of planning for the future, but even as I was looking for a way to talk of Shammat, I saw that this was a subject still far off and secondary. The need for haste took hold of me again, and mastered my weakness, so that I struggled up, and faced them.
‘We were told that Emissary Johor would come, and that we must meantime prepare ourselves for a crisis.’
‘And that was all?’
‘That was all.’
‘Then that means they were even more afraid than I knew they were when I left of information being picked up by enemies,’ I said. I spoke firmly, and even with desperation, looking up first at one, then the other.
They did not respond to ‘enemies’. The word fled by them, unmarked, it did not strike home in them anywhere, and here was a weakness that was, that must be, our fault.
Even while I report in them a flaw, and a serious one, I must record for the honour and the right memories of everyone concerned, how extraordinary a race this was – the Giants, who would soon cease to be, at least in this form. Not because of their physique, their size, their strength! I had worked among large races before. Size did not always go with qualities such as these men possessed. These had something unforgettable. There was a largeness in them, a magnanimity, a scope and sweep of understanding far beyond most of the species we were fostering. There was a deep containment in them, like the deep silence that was the air of this city. They had all the quiet strength of their function – which was service to the best there was and is. Their powerful eyes were thoughtful and observant and again spoke of links and harnessings with forces far beyond, far higher than most creatures could ever dream of. It was not that the Natives were not impressive, in their way; they, too, had thought and observation and above all an abundance of easy warm good humour. But here was something so much more, so much finer. I gazed up into these majestic faces, and it was with recognition: these men gave off the same ring, or note, as the best of Canopus. I knew that with such people I could meet with nothing but Justice, Truth – it was as simple as that.
‘You need to rest, perhaps?’ inquired one.
‘No, no, no,’ I cried, again trying to force into them the urgency I felt. ‘No, I must talk to you. I will tell you now, if you like, and you can tell the others.’
I saw that it was at last coming home to them that here was something terrible. Again I watched them muster inner strengths. Understanding flowed between these two: here was no need for inferior gestures such as exchanging glances, or meaningful nods.
In front of us the avenue of trees curved away and slightly down to a cluster of tall white buildings.
‘It will be better if we arrange a gathering of a Ten,’ said one and forthwith he departed, with strides so long that he was at the end of the avenue in a moment, his immense figure in scale with the buildings he approached, seeming to hold them in proportion.
‘My name is Jarsum,’ said my companion, and we walked forward. He dawdled and stopped and lingered, while I walked my fastest, but there was no strain here, and I saw that Giants and Natives were in the habit of walking together and had adapted themselves to this form of companionship.
When I was near the arrangement of the Giants’ buildings, they were certainly tall, but not oppressive; but inside the one we entered, I did feel strained and stretched, for the cylinder seemed to reach up forever above my head, and the seats and chairs were almost my height. Jarsum saw this and he sent instruction through an instrument that a Native-sized chair, table, and bed should be fetched and placed inside a special room that was smaller than the others. Even so, when I came to inhabit it, I found these articles of furniture comical enough, in a Giant-sized room.
This room, or hall, was used as a meeting place. In a short time, ten Giants had arrived. They sat on the floor, ignoring their usual seating arrangements, and put me on a pile of folded rugs, adjusted so that our faces were at the same level. They sat waiting for me to begin. They looked troubled, but not more than that. I was looking around at these kingly, magnificent beings, and thought that there can be no one so armed against shock that it is not felt, when it comes. And I would have to go slowly stage by stage, even with such beings as these.
I had to tell them that their history was over. That their purpose here was over. That the long evolution they had so brilliantly conducted and which they had believed was only just beginning – was over. As individuals they had a future, for they would be taken off to other planets. But they would no longer have an existence and a function as they had been taught to see themselves.
An individual may be told she, he, is to die, and will accept it. For the species will go on. Her or his children will die, and even absurdly and arbitrarily – but the species will go on. But that a whole species, or race, will cease, or drastically change – no, that cannot be taken in, accepted, not without a total revolution of the deepest self.
To identify with ourselves as individuals – this is the very essence of the Degenerative Disease, and every one of us in the Canopean Empire is taught to value ourselves only insofar as we are in harmony with the plan, the phases of our evolution. What I had to say would strike at everything we all valued most, for it could be no comfort here to be told: You will survive as individuals.
As for the Natives, there was no message of hope for them, unless the news that there would be a remission in the long-distant future could be called that. Evolution would begin again – after long ages.
The Giants’ reason for being, their function, their use, was the development of the Natives, who were their other halves, their own substances. But the Natives had nothing ahead of them but degeneration … The Giants were in the position of the healthy, or healthier, twin who will be saved in an operation in which the other one must die.
I had to say all this.
I said it.
And waited, for this much to be taken in.
I can remember how I sat there, ridiculously perched on that heap of rugs, feeling myself a pygmy, watching their faces, and Jarsum’s in particular. Now I was on a level with him, I saw that he stood out among the others. This was a man with an extraordinarily strong face, all dramatic curves and hollows, the dark eyes brilliant under the heavy brow ledges, cheekbones jutting and moulded. He was an immensely powerful man, outwardly and inwardly. But he was losing strength as I looked. They all were. It was not lack of fortitude, not that – they were not yet capable of that disobedience to the laws governing us. But as I gazed in awe from face to face I saw them, very slightly, dwindle. There was a lack of power. And I wondered
