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The Leaves of October Part 2

The Leaves of October - LightNovelsOnl.com

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At my request the Terrans placed me in the middle of a group of Elders. They were impatient (insofar as an Elder can be said to be impatient) to learn of Earth and Humans, and I knew they would use the First Language. Had I been placed in my original spot, out of sight of the Elders, they would have been obliged to use the Second with its much lower information density.

I live slowly now, Littles, almost as slowly as an Elder. I tell them all I saw and felt and heard.

They debate; the sun moves against the stars. A message comes through the waves of the Inner Voice, a message from the Hlutr amba.s.sador to New York. Chari Anne has died. So, my Little One, I have outlived you. I am saddened, as no Hlut should be for the pa.s.sing of a lesser order. I shall remember you joyfully and with wonderment, Chari Anne.

The Elders debate for seven years; near the end they are living almost as fast as normal Hlutr, and I am living almost as slowly as the crystalline Talebba. Finally one of them lives slowly enough to talk with me; he is the Elder who trained me, a lifetime ago.

"Brother Hlut," he says with the First Language across seasons, "we have debated with ourselves and with Hlutr on the other Scattered Worlds. The Inner Voice has been in turmoil with our discussion. And we have reached a decision." More of the Elders join us; and in slow pulsations of the Inner Voice I am aware that Hlutr Elders from all over the galaxy are joining this conclave. "I shall repeat our decision to you."

"Thank you, Brother Elder." I have trouble with the First Language...age is telling upon me. Is the sun s.h.i.+ning? I feel so cold.

"You were sent to Terra, you know, for a mission. The Humans investigated you, and finally they judged you and the Hlutr sapient. That was not the purpose of your mission."

"This I have suspected, Elder."

"From what you learned about Humans, we must needs rule on their own sapience. We must rule on whether they present a menace to the Hlutr and the other orders of life in the Scattered Worlds."

"Let it be so, Elder. For the Hlutr must protect life and the Inner Voice. So has it been since the first seed vessels of the Pylistroph (blessed be!) set forth into the Scattered Worlds, so shall it be when the last star dies." I am so cold. Chari Anne, will I see you when I die? Do Hlutr and Humans go to the same place when we pa.s.s on? Chari Anne, do we go anywhere?

"Then hear the decision of the Hlutr Elders. You have watched Mankind slaughter Hlutr. You have watched him slaughter other orders. You have watched him turn his back on the miracle of existence and slaughter his brethren and himself."

"This I have watched."

"You have seen that most Humans are nonsapient. You have seen that they do not appreciate the wonder of the Universal Song and do not even delight in their own lives."

"I have seen cases of this, Brother Elder. Many cases. But-"

"Hear then the answer of the Elders. Man is fundamentally a beast, we proclaim. He grew up on a world with barely any supervision of Hlutr. He destroyed the last vestiges of Hlutr control on his planet. And now he spreads through the stars with his strange unsane ways. Man is a beast- and a beast with too much power. He does represent a threat to the Hlutr and to life. And so Mankind must be destroyed."

Living slowly as I am, it is hard to feel strong emotions quickly. Yet the blast of impatience I send out on the Inner Voice must rock all Hlutr on Amny. Elders, you do wrong to decide this way. Let me be heard.

"Speak."

Humans all start out as wonderers, as children delighted with every segment of the Universal Song. A few do not lose these qualities into adulthood. Whatever their ultimate fate, all men begin as sapients. On the basis of the potential that Humans show as children, and on the basis of those few who never lose that potential, I beg that Humanity be spared.

I feel no agreement from the Elders- only astonishment that I should speak this way. The one closest to me projects feelings that, in Humans, are a.s.sociated with a sad shake of the head.

"Brother Hlut, you are blinded to the danger of Mankind. Look with me." He sings in the Inner Voice, a terrible song that I had almost forgotten.

Credix. A thriving planetful of Hlutr, and then came the bombs. To clear a s.p.a.ceport, in the name of all the G.o.ds! The Elder sings to me the deathsong of all those Hlutr, and it shakes me to the core.

Another Elder sings, sings of Laxus and Leikeis and a hundred billion Little Ones destroyed, fast or slow, by Human ecological meddling. And he sings to me the song of the Humans who did it- not even criminal, they were totally unconcerned.

And another Elder sings to me of Karphos, of great naval battles and of Humans killed, Humans suffering, Humans fighting Humans and glorying in the task. Of Human colonists on a thousand planets, colonists who delight in stripping whole forests, in slaughtering herds of animals, in hunting for the sheer pleasure of cruel destruction.

My teacher projects sadness. "This is the beast that you want us to spare, Brother Hlut? Because of a potential that may never be realized? How many more times does Credix have to happen, how many more Battles of Karphos must there be, how many Little Ones must die before you are convinced that we do right?"

He addresses the other Elders. "The way is simple. We know Human biochemistry. We can construct diseases that will kill all Humans but spare other Little Ones. There are enough of us on Human worlds that we can strike before they even become aware of the danger. And then the threat of Humanity will be finished."

All that is mortal pa.s.ses from the Universal Song, Chari Anne. There is no need to be saddened about that. Then why am I so unquiet? I am glad that you died, Chari Anne, before we could destroy your race. I only wish Staven and Daris and Kaavin, and all their children and yours, could die first as well.

I wish I could cry, Chari Anne, for the pa.s.sing of Humanity.

I wish the Elders could have seen the wondering sparkle in your eyes.

NO!.

This time my Inner Voice roar shakes all life on the planet. Even the Humans feel it touch the edges of their minds. Elders, hear me.

They sigh. "Speak," my teacher tells me.

What to say? You tell me that Human potential may never be realized. That too few ever retain their original wonder and delight in the Universal Song. I say that you are wrong, Elders.

I know Humans, Human men and women, who are ent.i.ties worthy of Hlutr friends.h.i.+p. One of them, who just recently pa.s.sed out of the Universal Song, was so alive with the glory of existence that she spent her entire life working so that Hlutr could be declared sapient.

"That is one case, Brother Hlut."

Yes, Chari Anne was one woman. But when she succeeded, and Human beings realized we were sapient...then all of them ceased hurting us. One Hlut now stands in New York as amba.s.sador to Humanity. Laws have been pa.s.sed, Elders, laws which protect Hlutr in the future. I quiver. For four centuries Humans thought us unintelligent, and so our deaths were to them little more than the pa.s.sing of a gra.s.sland. I grant you that very few ever wondered, in that four centuries, whether we were intelligent. Yet when Chari Anne did wonder, when she and Staven proved us sapient- all other Humans agreed. Credix and Karphos cannot be erased, cannot be forgiven...but they will not happen again. And these are the creatures you call beasts?

Another Elder sings, from kilopa.r.s.ecs away. "Not just Hlutr are endangered by Humans. They fight among themselves, showing total disregard for life. Many of the lesser orders will be hurt, have been hurt already."

Let me tell you of Human att.i.tudes toward the lesser orders, Elders. The Kaanese are surely one of the least progressed races in the Galaxy. They can barely be said to have self-awareness and language. Yet my Little One Staven convinced Human governments to stop their war long enough to bring some Kaanese home. Staven is one man, one very exceptional man who has kept his own wonder and respect for the other orders- but what of the diplomats, Navy officers, the Empress and the Patalanian President? They still have flickers of the innate and original goodness of the Human being.

This has been a long speech, Little Ones, and I am living far faster than I should. I cannot feel my upper limbs. Elders, Stars, Universal Song...do not let me die before I have pled my case.

Let me tell you, Elders, of the wonderment that Humans retain for the Universal Song. I sing with the Inner Voice- I sing as Daris does when she is dancing. This melody is one that is Hlut-flavored in all respects. Yet it originates in a Human mind. Do we have the right to destroy the mind that can produce that song?

"Brother Hlut, you yourself guided that individual in her development. If she sings glorious melodies, it is because you taught her. Ordinary adult Humans cannot learn to sing such songs."

No? Then listen with me, Elders, as Daris dances. I cast out with the Inner Voice, seeking a pattern I know so well. In a little while as we Hlutr count time, I find Daris and her troupe dancing before an audience of two thousand. Listen, Elders, to Daris's Inner Voice. Then listen to the Inner Voice of those who dance with her. And listen to the Inner Voice of those who watch. Do you not hear the same theme repeated over and over? You say that I taught Daris to sing...who taught her audience?

They listen, and they hear what I have described. And the tides of the Inner Voice that flow through this conclave begin to change.

My teacher tries one more time. "Brother Hlut, all the arguments you have used depend upon the fact that you, a Hlut, taught these Humans while they were children. You could go through all the descendants of these Humans, and the answer would be the same: they are what they are because a Hlut taught them. Not because they live up to their potential on their own. In the four centuries you spent on Terra, you have managed to change only a small number of Humans. The vast majority of them are still a threat to the Universal Song."

Now I am saddened in a new way. One has respect for one's teachers, one always thinks that they are intelligent and worthy. It is a terrible thing to be shown otherwise.

Brother Elders, can the Hlutr not try to help Humans more? Must we turn our backs on them and destroy them, when with time and teaching we might be able to help them alter themselves? The few Humans I have helped- who are now helping to change others of their kind- show that progress is possible. Are we now to close our senses to that possibility, are we to deny this order of Little Ones the help that they so plainly need, and so plainly can profit from?

They had no Hlutr to help them when they were growing on their planet- now, when the job is more difficult, are we to put aside our ancient obligations and consign this entire order to nonexistence? Elders, I believe that the Hlutr are better than that. I ask that Mankind be spared.

Cold, I am so cold. I cannot see beyond this grove- I would have liked one more sight of the stars.

My teacher speaks slowly. "The Elders have made their decision, Brother Hlut. Hear it now. Man is a beast...but a beast with the potential to become sapient. Hlutr can help him to realize that potential. Therefore, Man will be spared, and the Hlutr will take up their obligation to work with him, that he may become more fully what he could be. Let it be so."

Let it be so, Brother Elders. Brother Hlutr. I am cold, so cold. Chari Anne, are you there?? It must be autumn, Chari Anne; look how my leaves are red and orange and yellow. Are they not beautiful, my Little One? Is not the Universal Song a grand and glorious thing, to have contained two such as we?

I always did love the leaves of October.

INTERLUDE 1.

Kev couldn't keep his secret to himself. When he arrived home, his Mama Tiponya was programming dinner; he hugged her and said, "Can I have a cookie?"

"Just one, dalinka. You don't want to ruin your appet.i.te."

"Thank you." He punched for a cookie, accepted it from the kitchen cabinet, then sat down next to Mama Tiponya, swinging his legs. "Would you like a bite?"

"Thank you, yes. Mmm, that's good." She turned back to her terminal. "So what have you been up to today?"

"I've been in the treehouse." Shyly, he added, "The tree talked to me."

"Did it?" Her tone was one that Kev had heard too often: she didn't believe him, and she was secretly laughing at him. How cute, Kev thinks he's talking to a tree.

"No, really, it did."

"Tell you what, you can tell me me all about it later." She giggled and gave him another hug. "Now why don't you go wash? Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"Yes, Ma'am." Frowning, Kev jumped to the floor. So she didn't believe him...she didn't have to laugh at him. At dinner Mama Tiponya brought it up again. "Kev, why don't you tell everybody what you did today?" She was trying to hide a smile, and Kev looked down at his food.

"Nothing," he muttered.

"Oh, tell us, Kev," urged Mama Cho. "You always have such fun."

Against his better judgement, Kev told them...but he mentioned only the barest outline, just the fact that the tree had talked to him, and that it told him a story. Somehow, he didn't quite feel like sharing the story itself.

Father Nnamdi grinned. "So now the trees are talking to you! What next, the birds?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Kev answered sullenly.

"All right, son, we'll let it drop."

He knew just what was going to happen, though- later, when they thought he was asleep, all the grownups would have a good chuckle about Kev and his talking tree. Soon it would be a family joke, a cute story to tell visitors.

Never mind, he thought. Dar will believe me.

"No kidding?" Dar looked at the tree, his eyes wide. "It honestly talked to you?" Kev had called his friend right after dinner, and despite the setting sun the boys ran out to the tree at once.

"Well, it wasn't talking, not really. More like singing, or dreaming. Immanuel heard it too...didn't you, boy?" The dog wagged his tail furiously, and earned a scritch behind the ears in return.

"All right, let's go on up, and you can show me." Dar was two years older than Kev, and was already six levels ahead in school. He knew everything- or at least, he knew how to use his terminal to find out everything.

They climbed up, then pulled Immanuel up with the pulley. The little dog actually enjoyed being hoisted into the treehouse. When the dog was safely aboard, Dar said, "Well, how do we make it talk?"

"Uh...I don't know. I was just resting, and I put me head against it, like this." Kev demonstrated.

Dar stretched out next to him, and for the next few minutes the two boys were silent.

"What's supposed to happen now?"

"You hear music. Then...it's hard to describe."

"You were dreaming."

"I was not!"

"Were too."

"Was not."

"All right, all right, let's not get into a fight about it." Dar glanced at the sun, then at his terminal rolled up and hanging from his belt. "It's getting late. Tomorrow's a big day. I've got to get home before the folks miss me."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." Kev watched Dar descend, then flopped to the wooden platform. "It's no use," he said to Immanuel. "n.o.body believes me." He laid his head back against the tree trunk, and not even Immanuel's sloppy tongue on his face brought a smile.

Listen, Little One....

PART TWO:.

Teacher.

In the quiet night of this eternal wood, I lift my soul to the stars in the waves of the Inner Voice. I sing, as the Hlutr have sung since the beginnings of life. My roots are deep in the lush soil of this world that now, after the fas.h.i.+on of the Humans, we call Amny. My limbs rise high into the fresh, clear air, reaching for the dim radiance of the distant stars in lieu of the vanished sun. And I sing.

Answering voices come from the sky and beyond: a chorus of my brethren on a million worlds. Most of them are Hlutr, for we alone of all the races have mastered the mystery of the Inner Voice. In this way, as in our physical stature, we stand above all other creatures; in this way, we do our duty to the Universal Song. For how could there be a Song, without the Hlutr to sing...?

I sing, and this should be pleasure. I seek the communion of my race, the oneness that comes through the Inner Voice and lifts us all far beyond the various worlds we inhabit. The animal races, however mobile, are bound by their very nature, bound in s.p.a.ce to one particular location; only the plants, seemingly sessile, have truly transcended all boundaries. This night, I sing, and in my song I seek to become one with the Universal Song.

This should be a pleasure. Yet too soon, before I am even begun, a discord intrudes. It begins faintly, a mere hint of the song gone wrong, and I turn my soul away from it in my attempt to fly the night. Yet the discord is still there, on the worlds of the Hlutr and in the empty s.p.a.ces where only our dormant spores drift; in the oceans and the clouds, spoiling their wet happy melodies, in the soil and the turf, poisoning their deep restful peace.

It is the Humans.

I know, my brothers, that many of you do not agree with me. Many of you, I know, do not see them as I do, these sons and daughters of Terra with their machines and their Thrones and their ever-continuing racous jabber. Most of you do not concern yourselves with the Humans. Many of you feel that they are not truly sapient, that they do not have enough sense of the Inner Voice to cause any discord in its melodies. You are wrong. I live in their midst, not a dozen Hlutr-lengths from one of their cities, not eight hundred pa.r.s.ecs from one of their most populated worlds, and I know: this dissonance I feel comes from them.

Still more of you, my siblings, feel that the Humans are sapient and feel a special compa.s.sion for them, silly and weak as they are. You may remember our dealings with them, and our strange brother who left Amny and went to the world where the Humans live. I think of him always as "The Traveller," for he went places where Hlutr seldom go.

The last remnants of his carca.s.s stand yet, in the clearing only a Hlut-length or so from me. He had been specially-bred for his mission, and he burned out his stunted life in a very short time. But his memory lives on, in all of us. It comes through our roots from the wet ground, it descends on us in the summer winds, and it echoes yet in the waves of the Inner Voice. We will never forget the Traveller...and I least of all. I was his Teacher; I bear some of the responsibility for his mission, for making him what he was. Sometimes, when I look to the lonely blackness of interstellar s.p.a.ce, or when I contemplate the grand sweep of time, I feel that he is near, and I can almost hear his whisper. It is a sad whisper, a lost sound as he entreats us on behalf of those strange folk he came to love- as if a Hlut could truly love any of the Little Ones.

You remember our decision, in that time of judgement and the appeal of the Traveller. We spared Man, when we could have eliminated him from the Universal Song like the violent blight he sometimes seems. This was the will of the Hlutr, and this was my will too and yet at times I wonder.

What did we know of Humans, then? Few enough of us had paid any attention to them. We had a few flashes of the Inner Voice, the knowledge we gained from the poor children of Nephestal, and the ravings of our misshapen brother.

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