Rei could have said?
I think it was sweet.
Your powers of expression overwhelm me. A male viewpoint, please. Tomax?
I have to commend Rei for his patience. After all, he was nearly killed in the asteroid belt, narrowly escaped falling into the Artonuee sun. He lay in a stinking space suit with his own wastes for days, severely wounded. He has had nothing to eat but butterfly food for—how long? Over fifty days. In that position I might not feel like being formal and diplomatic.
Elizabeth.
He is a man and his response to Miaree's greeting is quite manlike, quite condescending. I think it was an insult.
Yes, LaConius.
I think it was merely an honest reaction to Miaree. I would think she'd be pleased.
It is, isn't it, a rather minor question? Let us review the segment of the fable which we've read together today. The most impressive aspect, John?
I'm intrigued by the continued mention of the art planet of Outworld.
Naturally. Leslie?
I would have liked more detail on Miaree's work in learning the Delanian language.
An interesting aspect. Some thoughts on language, Clear Thought the
Healer?
In our legends there is mention that the old ones spoke in many tongues. It is a concept which says much. It rather staggers the imagination. I know something of the difficulty of learning a language, although I have some advantage. Being able to communicate in mind pictures makes it unnecessary for the old race to know words, but in practice we have found it advantageous to use our tongues rather than our minds. We know the rules of privacy, as legislated following the reconciliation. In cases of emergency, or with permission, I am allowed to enter a mind. Otherwise, I speak. And I can understand Miaree's problems. One picture is worth many words; able to communicate with what apparently is a mixture of telepathy and sounds, she is handicapped in her contact with the alien by having to use his words. She has observed, or the writer has observed, that one simple concept which could be flashed instantly mind-to-mind takes a circuitous route through the maze of Delanian words.
Thank you, Clear Thought, you do very well with our primitive language. Without stating it is a concept that you must accept simply because I state it, I would like to observe that we are deficient in the field of language. I sometimes wonder if the universal language law should have been passed. We stem, of course, from a common source, all of us, from the rim worlds to the outposts toward the center. But as the centuries passed, as worlds became more isolated and independent from the parent civilization around Terra II, we began to develop variations in language. New materials, new life forms, new concepts on a hundred different worlds created words which had meaning only in one specific area of the empire. Accents changed. Although it never reached the point where one man could not understand another, there was a different ring in the ear when one conversed, for example, with a rimmer and with a center worlder. A child born the rim might say mumu as his first word, while a toddler from the center would say mama. Planetary influences changed speech. I once met a man from Big. That, incidentally, is a beautiful example of descriptive naming. Big is a giant planet in the second arm which circles its sun with astounding slowness. Men are born and die before one Big year is complete. My friend from Big told me that the planet's leisurely plodding through space has influenced its peoples. And, indeed, he spoke so slowly. One wanted to help him, put words into his mouth. He made a two-syllable word out of now. Yet, aside from the drawling sound of his words, his pronunciation is much like yours or mine. We have acknowledged our interdependency. Although we have armaments which can kill a planet, we have not used them since the War with Zede If we number in the billions and yet we are alone. We still have our alarmists who cite the dead worlds to justify our so-called preparedness or the continued production of weapons of destruction. Perhaps this vague outside threat is what helps hold us together. We are, in spite of our far-flung travels, one people. And the lengths to which we have gone to keep it that way, among them the enforcement of the standard language regulations, are for the good. Except, as in the case of the Miaree manuscript, when we run into something totally new and different I have read that the computers used in translating this small book ran continuously for eleven years before one single key was found. The number of problems presented to the computers was astronomical. The final solution is required study for programmers to the present date. If you think Miaree was astounding in her ability to decipher the Delanian language, think what a task she would have faced had not the Delanians sent pictures, the alphabet, carefully- thought-out keys to their language. But my point is this. By killing initiative in the creation of new language, by smoothing over the language of a galaxy, we left ourselves without a science of linguistics and faced a grave challenge when the Miaree manuscript was brought home from Cygnus. Now I am sure that, somewhere out there, there are others. Someday we will meet them. An alien race can be warlike or peaceful. We will have to assess their intentions rapidly, when we meet them. If we came face to face with the planet-killers and one of them said, 'stand or I fire!' we would not, of course, have time to learn language. We would have to make a spot assessment of his intentions and fire or be fired upon; however, I think that contact will not be sudden and unexpected, but will come, as it came to Miaree, with advance warning. And, thanks to Miaree and her book, we now have the capacity to study and solve an alien language in a mere fraction of the time it took to translate the legend. So you see, the study of literature is not just entertainment, is it?
Sir, there are other languages. The language of the eye. It spoke to Rei when Miaree came to him. It spoke in the form of beauty. And it is established that Miaree does not consider Rei ugly, although he is different.
Ah, John, the eye of the artist, eh? Yes, and the language of movement. There are certain signs which would be universal to an intelligent being.
But the wormfly of Omaha III was beautiful before it was exterminated. It had lovely red wings and a soft, furry body and the early settlers considered it harmless, even beneficial, until they learned that in its breeding stage it carefully numbed the skin of its human victims and injected rather nasty little parasites which delighted in feeding on the tissue of the inner eye. And it is said the women of Zede II were beautiful beyond compare. Yet they formed the suicide fleet and almost broke through the blockade into the undefended worlds. Question. Any comment on the manner of Rei's escape from his dying ship? LaConius?
Rather simple, sir. A rocket pack on his space suit. Evidently just enough power to take him to the New World—no, I mean The World, the original planet. I was a bit confused, at first, by the initial sequence, but it became clear when I got the picture of how the Artonuee develop. It is, as I said, very much like the Tigian butterfly, with an initial stage, the egg; a larval stage, the iffling; a stage of chrysalis, the sac which Rei saw hatching a wingling; and a butterfly stage, the winglings, before the final change into the semi-adult Artonuee. I presume the males follow much the same pattern, but since this book was written by an Artonuee female, the males get short shrift.
The room with the steel cabinets, Elana?
It's explained. It was sort of a funeral hall. Or a medical hall where victims of some space accident were brought. Evidently Rei was there at the time and was much impressed, for his dream of death and the room came, I'd guess, from his subconscious while he was trying to fight off the ifflings.
How do you feel about the ifflings? Martha?
Rather crawly. But I was impressed by Miaree’s repugnance toward the so-called animal method of birth. I suppose, to a butterfly, with its clean and non-bloody laying of eggs, live birth would seem as horrible as the concept of giving poor old Beafly, still alive, to the cannibalistic ifflings.
Do the ifflings eat flesh, then? Julius?
No. I don't think so. I got the idea that they were just taking something intangible—the life force, as it were.
Comment, Alfred.
I think they’d have to take the Artonuee equivalent of genes, or at least DNA messengers. Because it is apparent that the activity of the early forms of the Artonuee stems from instinctive knowledge rather than learned knowledge. And I got a hint, in the Rei sequence, that there is some sort of continuous line of awareness running through all of the Artonuee. The ifflings which were fastened to Rei seemed to have some form of thought, at least enough for him to sense that they were female.
A younger one and an older one.
And why were the ifflings female, Cecile?
