Hothouse - Brian Aldiss [115]
‘I ask myself what am I?’
For a moment the morel was silent. His listeners looked at each other covertly, full of unease, until a flick of the sodal’s tail recalled them to the discourse.
‘All of us here have by accident been swept aside from the main stream of devolution. We live in a world where each generation becomes less, and less defined. All life is tending towards the mindless, the infinitesimal: the embryonic speck. So will be fulfilled the processes of the universe. Galactic fluxes will carry the spores of life to another and new system, just as they once brought it here. Already you see the process at work, in these green pillars of light that draw life from the jungles. Under steadily increasing heat, devolutionary processes accelerate.’
While the morel was speaking, its other half controlling the traverser had brought them steadily lower. Now they floated over dense jungle, over the banyan that covered all of this sunlit continent. Warmth wrapped itself round them like a cloak.
Other traversers were here, moving their great bulks lightly up and down their threads. With hardly a jolt, morel’s traverser alighted in the tips of the jungle.
Gren stood up at once, helping Yattmur to her feet.
‘You are the wisest of creatures, morel,’ he said. ‘I feel no sorrow in leaving you, because you seem now so well able to look after yourself. After all, you are the first fungus to solve the riddle of the universe. Yattmur and I will speak of you when we are safe in the middle levels of the jungle. Are you coming also, Lily-yo, or is your life given over to riding vegetables?’
Lily-yo, Haris and the others were also on their feet, facing Gren with a mixture of hostility and defensiveness he recognized from long ago.
‘You’re not leaving this splendid brain, this protector, this morel who is your friend?’ Lily-yo asked.
Gren nodded.
‘You are welcome to him – or he is welcome to you. You in your turn must decide as I have had to whether he is a power for good or evil. I have decided. I am taking Yattmur, Laren and the two Arabler women back to the forest where I belong.’ When he snapped his fingers, the tattooed women rose obediently.
‘Gren you are as hard-headed as ever you were,’ Haris said, with a touch of ill-temper. ‘Come back to the True World with us – it’s a better place than the jungle. You just heard the fish-morel say the jungle is doomed.’
To his delight, Gren found he could use arguments in a way that once would have been impossible to him.
‘If what the morel says is correct, Haris, then your other world is doomed as surely as this one.’
The morel’s voice came back, booming and irritable.
‘So it is, man, but you have yet to hear about my plan. In the dim thought centre of this traverser I find awareness of worlds far beyond this, far beyond and basking round other suns. The traverser can be driven to make that journey. I and Lily-yo and the others will live inside it, safe, eating its flesh, until we get to those new worlds. We simply follow the green columns and ride on the galactic fluxes of space and they will lead us to a good fresh place. Of course you must come with us, Gren.’
‘I’m tired of carrying or being carried. Go and good luck! Fill a whole empty world with people and fungus!’
‘You know this Earth will suffer a fire death, you fool man!’
‘So you said, O wise morel. You also said that that would not come for many generations. Laren and his son and his son’s son will live in the green, rather than be cooked into the gut of a vegetable making an unknown journey. Come along, Yattmur. Hup hey, you two women – along you come with me.’
They moved to go. Ushering the tattooed women before her, Yattmur handed