Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [630]
‘Such an outlook brings misery, as we see on our poor sister planet out there. We have only to step down from the arrogance of believing that the world or the future is somehow “ours” and immediately, life for everyone is enhanced.’
Trockern said, ‘I suppose each of us has to find that out for ourself.’ He found it delightful to be humble after sunset.
With sudden exasperation, SartoriIrvrash said, ‘Yes, unfortunately that’s so. We have to learn by bitter experience, not blithe example. And that’s ridiculous. Don’t imagine that I think the state of affairs is perfect. Gaia is an absolute ninny to let us loose in the first place. At least on Helliconia the Original Beholder planted phagors to keep mankind in check!’ He laughed and Trockern joined in.
‘I know you think me wanton,’ the latter said, ‘but isn’t Gaia herself a wanton, spawning so riotously in all directions?’
His senior shot him a foxy look. ‘Everything else must bring forth in abundance, so that everything else can eat it. It’s not the best of arrangements, perhaps – cooked up and cobbled together on the spur of the moment from a chemical broth. That doesn’t mean to say we can’t imitate Gaia and adopt, like her, our own homeostasis.’
The moon in its last quarter shone overhead. SartoriIrvrash pointed to the red star burning low by the horizon.
‘See Antares? Just north of it is the constellation Ophiuchus, the Serpent Bearer. In Ophiuchus is a large dark dust cloud about seven hundred light-years away, concealing a cluster of young stars. Among them lies Freyr. It would be one of the twelve brightest stars in the sky, were it not for the dust cloud. And that’s where the phagors are.’
The two men contemplated the distance without speaking. Then Trockern said, ‘Have you ever thought, master, how phagors vaguely resemble the demons and devils which used to haunt the imagination of Christians?’
‘That had not occurred to me. I have always thought of an even older allusion, the minotaur of ancient Greek myth, a creature stuck between human and animal, lost in the labyrinths of its own lusts.’
‘Presumably you think that the Helliconian humans should allow the phagors to coexist, to maintain the biospheric balance?’
‘“Presumably …” We presume so much.’ A long silence followed. Then SartoriIrvrash said, reluctantly, ‘With the deepest respect to Gaia and her Serpent-Bearing sister out there, they are old biddies at times. Mankind learnt aggression in their wombs. I mean, to use another ancient analogy, humans and phagors are rather Cain and Abel, aren’t they? One or other of them has to go …’
*
Trumpets sounded above the heads of the gathering. Their voices were muted and sweet, and in no way reminiscent of those work trumpets buried far below their feet – except to Luterin Shokerandit.
The dignitaries in the great chamber swallowed their last bird-shaped pastries and put on reverential faces. Luterin moved among them feeling cumbersome among so many ectomorphic shapes. He lost sight of Insil.
The Keeper and the Master, Insil’s father and husband, were returning down the spiral stair. They had assumed silken robes of carmine and blue over their ordinary clothes, and put on odd-shaped hats. Their faces were as if cast from an alloy of lead and flesh.
Side by side, they paraded to the curtained windows. There they turned and bowed to the assembly. The assembly fell silent, the musicians tiptoed away over creaking boards.
Keeper Esikananzi spoke first.
‘You all know of the reasons why Bambekk Monastery