he We seemed to
have a legend for every occasion, a prophecy to suit every
eventuality - but even so, their rich shared mental community
had been disturbed as never before by the creature that fell
screaming from the sky. The hubbub had spread around their
minds like a forest fire, and soon, the whole tribe had seen,
either with their own eyes or though the memory of the We, that
astonishing event.
Only Panna had not seen. Old age had made her near blind, but also over the decades her studies and her meditations had drawn her away from the shared mind, to the point where she had come to rely upon her young student Karuna to be both her senses and her connection to the thoughts among We.
Many of the legends were common. Some were taught directly, others passed on through tradition and drama, acted for members of the tribe by those skilled in the arts of character and dance. Some were so popular that they achieved almost a personality of their own: became living, breathing entities dwelling somewhere in the shared thoughts of the tribe. Such as the legend that, in their moment of greatest need, a man would emerge whose wisdom was so great that it would give him what no other man, and few women, possessed: the power of Voice. The power to distil the thousand upon thousand thoughts, words and impressions that murmured around the tribe at all times into distinct words and phrases, and to shape those phrases with his lips and tongue, so that each member of the We could witness them in the harsh, waking world. Since that huge creature has screamed to its death, this particular prophecy had, according to Karuna, boiled up to the point that one had to concentrate to shield from one's mind the idiotic babblings of the tribe. It was at times like this that Panna felt her withdrawal from the shared mind a mercy, and one that made up for those lonely nights when the only voice to be heard in the cold cave on the hillside was her own. It seemed that the We had come close - as close as was possible - to a consensus. The portent, whatever it meant, could only lead to one thing. The tribe's hour of darkness was at hand, and a saviour, a man with Voice, was needed.
Presumably to this end, Panna awoke that morning to find a short, potbellied fool squatting outside the mouth of her cave. "Well? What is it?" she demanded, peering at it with her near-dead eyes. The fool had opened its mouth, and tried to force something out, tried to make its tongue and teeth do what nature had never intended. All that had emerged were a few clicks, stutters, coughs and a single moan. Panna's response had been direct: "Go away," she'd said, and it had. No, Panna thought, whatever this mysterious sign meant, it was unlikely to be linked to a common prophecy. But Panna knew that there were legends not part of the general subconscious, stories of the past and the future too horrible, or too dangerous, to be allowed to leak into the shared mind and take root. Perhaps this could be one of those. "Fool, come back here," she'd shouted sharply, and after a moment it had. "Fetch me Karuna, do you understand? Karuna. At once. That task should be simple, even to a stuttering, moaning imbecile." By the time the sun had reached its zenith, Karuna had arrived.
oo!"
Roberts snapped awake to see Dr Todd grinning down at him. Her hair was wrapped in a towel from which dark strands escaped like snakes.
"Christ," he said, "you scared the living daylights out of me."
Dr Todd smiled. "Sorry. But I had a serious purpose. As officer in charge of security, you're supposed to be keeping an eye out. You know, for the hostile life forms this planet's breeding to destroy us."
