A Simple Truth (39 page)

Read A Simple Truth Online

Authors: Albert Ball

BOOK: A Simple Truth
9.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

'I'll be with you wherever you are and whenever you need me.'
That was what he had said.  And even though Lincoln could not understand how that could be, he knew with an inner certainty that it was the truth, and he accepted the comfort with
deep
gratitude.

 

23
   
A
nalysis

 

 

"Ten minutes to lift off
,"
announced the pilot via the cabin speaker
,
"
p
lease fasten your safety harness."

Lincoln felt very self-conscious being the only passenger.  He had been implored by several colleagues to take them along and it had been difficult to justify refusing.  In everyone else's eyes an orbital flight for one p
erson was an indefensible waste, a
selfish squandering of valuable resources. 

He would have preferred some company, especially
Ranjit.  It had been particularly
difficult facing him and several of his closest friends, the ones who had not asked to go.  He knew they had been deeply hurt and mystified by his action.  They had been content to work hard in making arrangements for others to make the journey of many lifetimes, tacitly assuming that in due course their turn would come.  Now he had made the cruel decision to terminate the aliens' stay, and as a final insult was making the last visit on his own.

But he had to do this alone.  Whatever was about to happen would incur unknown risks, and he was not prepared to expose anyone else to danger.  He even intended to order the ferry away once he was on
board, and knew that many would thin
k he intended to leave with the aliens
.

He watched the WSA complex flash past the windows and
shrink
rapidly as the small craft accelerated up and away to its predestined rendezvous.  Soon it was lost amidst the contracting landscape.  He looked down with inner pain to where his home and family were, and wondered whether he would see it or them ever again.

 

***************

"Welcome Doctor Lincoln
.
  We are glad that you could come
,"
said
the
Scout who w
as
waiting inside the skin to ease him down to the surface below.  It could have been the same one as came to the WSA complex, they all looked very similar.  In any event it was not of course the Scout who was really speaking, but one of the real aliens, a so-called Guardian.

"Thank you
,"
said Lincoln without much enthusiasm.

"We can make a general tour of the vessel
,
or if there is a particular part you wish to see then it will be arranged."

"There is a special purpose behind your asking me here, what is it?"  Lincoln was blunt.  He had come this far and was anxious to get on with whatever had to be done.

The
Guardian
seemed taken aback, but it was probably a contrived reaction.  "Yes, ah, well there is a favour we were going to ask of you, but it hardly qualifies as a special purpose."  Lincol
n did not reply;
he just waited.  The
Guardian
continued.  "We wondered whether you would submit to a scan, like the others we have had here, but you are of course under no obligation to accept.  There will be no hard feelings if you prefer not to, but I hope you will allow us to try to persuade you, as we have very good reasons." 

Lincoln had considered this possibility but rather felt it would be something more daunting.  After all upwards of six hundred people had already been scanned with no ill effects whatsoever.  Perhaps there was some information in his own mind that could not be obtained from the others.

"I am prepared to accept
,"
he replied stonily, "but would prefer to undergo it immediately."

"As you wish, but I promise you there is nothing to fear."  Lincoln was escorted to a tunnel entrance and found the artificial gravity easier to manage than he had expected.  He had studied so many visual recordings of the vessel interior and of people's negotiation of it that he almost felt at home.  The strangeness that captivated everyone else was lacking for him.

He was taken to a very large but comfortable sitting room.  Several Scouts were there waiting for him and he was invited to remove his vacuum suit, be seated and relax.  The room was constructed to resemble an ordinary lounge so that human visitors would feel at ease.  It was one of several used for the mind scanning, although previously ten or fifteen people would be scanned together with twice as many Scouts performing the analysis.

"Doctor Lincoln," began his guide, "we should explain why we have asked you to undergo the scan.  You
already
know that in the past
major unplanned changes in
the
human genetic structure occurred, but we were not completely open about what brought about those changes.
 
In fact
your own
ancestors
were responsible.  B
y
some
means
they were able
to
identify
th
e
descendants of our modified stock
that had the most progressive genes
.
Having identified them they
were then able to
render those genes ineffective.  All we do know is that the actions of your ancestors were deliberate, precise, and one hundred percent effective. 
The campaign lasted only a few years and involved
only a tiny fraction of
those descended from the modified population
, but
at the end of that time the
evolution that we had planned for you was finished.
"

How
could such a thing be p
ossible?
Lincoln wondered.  Even now humanity
w
ould
find such a task all but impossible, and if it was possible it would be
with the considerable aid of modern technology
.
  His
mind reeled at the implications.  Somehow
prehistoric man
had demonstrated the power to make instinctive selections that could
dramatically change
the
evolution
of an entire species.  Whatever its purpose the fact that we had this ability was staggering.  Who knew what other latent powers we possessed, lying dormant and unknown until conditions arose th
at triggered them into action?

"
It has been our purpose to determine the basis of
your ancestors'
ability
, and we have failed.  We know almost the complete history of the human race, we know what happened in great detail, but we don't know how or why it happened. 
We believe the k
ey to that mystery lies within your own mind."

Perhaps a reaction of some sort would have been in order, some indication of surprise or shock, but Lincoln felt none. 
After what he had just heard h
e
half
expected as much.

"You have demonstrated precisely that same
power of identification
that your ancestors possessed.  You have selected the people that we were allowed to scan, and that selection has been one hundred percent effective in preventing our knowledge going beyond a very definite limit. 

"
In order to learn the root of the selection process we need to analyse
a few
people
with a genetic make
-
up related in a very precise way
to
the genetic make
-
up of one of the original selectors.  That may sound a hopeless task, but knowing the laws of heredity and the facts of history we know that there is a small probability of any particular individual having the required make
-
up.  The difficulty is that we don't know who those individuals are until we scan them, so we have to rely on scanning a large number of people from as wide a range of backgrounds as possible to be sure of finding several of the right type."

Then the Scout leaned forward and spoke slowly to emphasise his next point.  "We have scanned six hundred and eighteen people.  If they had been randomly chosen there is less than one chance in thirty thousand that none would be suitable.
They were not chosen at random;
you chose them Doctor Lincoln."

The aliens learned fast, Lincoln had to admit that.  To lean forward and speak in that way was a particularly human characteristic, and they had built a wealth of expression into the voice.  It was hard to believe that he was not talking to another human, except for the Scout's odd appearance.  In fact he was much less impressed by what the
Guardian
said than by the way that he said it.  In the absence of any visible reaction the
Guardian
continued.

"That selection could not have been a conscious one, we know that
, but
somewhere within your mind lies the very ability about which we need to learn in order to help you.  So you see how anxious we are to scan your mind.  We feared that the selection mechanism would assert itself in preventing your acceptance, but we are delighted that it did not.  You do not seem very surprised at this information?"

"No
,"
replied Lincoln.  "I had half guessed as much, but I am as puzzled as you are to know how I made the selection.  It seemed superficially that it was random, but something compelled me to select people, and I had an intuition that there was a pattern behind the process, but it certainly wasn't conscious.  If you can learn anything from me then I myself would be glad to know what it is." 

"Wonderful, then shall we proceed?  It shouldn't take more than half an hour at the most.  Just lie back and try to relax."

Lincoln did as he was bid.  Five Scouts positioned themselves around his head.  He was certainly getting special treatment.  All the other subjects had only two Scouts each.  He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to go blank.  George Dent had said to do exactly that when the time came, and if this was it then it would
not
present
a
problem.

He soon felt pleasantly drowsy.  The process was entirely below the level of consciousness.  All he felt was the deliberate tranquillising sensation imposed on his conscious mind by the Scouts.  A couple of minutes later or so it seemed he opened his eyes to find only his original guide still present.

"What's the matter?  Can't you proceed with the scan?"

"The scan is over.  We have spent nearly two hours sifting through your mind Doctor Lincoln."  Lincoln sat up with a start.  He had known others say how quickly the time passed but to experience it himself was quite disturbing.  He checked his watch.  Yes indeed, over an hour and three quarters had passed.

"How did it go
?"
he asked.

"Not well.  We found nothing that was of any use at all."

"What went wrong?"

"There is some ability in your mind that can resist scanning.  The information is all there, but we were unable to extract it.  Let me explain.  A living brain contains within it in almost complete detail the history of every ancestor up to the time of
its
conception.  And not only the history, but the working of the mind of each one, the thoughts, feelings and beliefs, conscious and unconscious.  I know that it is hard for you to understand, but believe
me;
very much more is hand
ed down from parent to child
than you think.  The living brain contains not just ordinary matter, but matter of a much finer structure, layer upon layer of finer structures in fact, including the structure of thought and consciousness itself.  When we scan a brain we don't
merely
study the atomic structure;
we analyse the construction of the more finely structured layers as we
ll
, and in that way we can determine the history of almost a complete species from a single individual."

In spite of his earlier lack of interest Lincoln was fascinated once more.  "You didn't tell us all this before, why did you not explain?"

"There are implications that it is better for you not to deduce.  But let me continue.  A dead brain only retains its basic atomic structure.  The experience of the individual is recorded as indeed it is recorded in every cell of the individual.  But the ancestral memory is lost, gone with the finer layers of matter that some humans call the spirit.  The process of scanning is like a search through an intricate web of interconnecting paths.  We have to follow the most promising paths until we uncover the information we want.  In your case those paths are fluid, they can change
direction apparently at random;
we have no sooner found a promising path than it leads back to its starting point or off in some other equally fruitless direction.  Such a p
henomenon is entirely new to us;
we cannot even begin to understand how it works, and it renders your mind inaccessible, at least by normal methods of analysis."

Other books

The Explorers by Tim Flannery
The Bridge Ladies by Betsy Lerner
The Perfect Clone by M. L. Stephens
Havoc by Angie Merriam
Deirdre by Linda Windsor
Red Hot Deadly Peppers by Paige Shelton
Let's Play in the Garden by Grover, John