The Gods Themselves
Chapter 12

They had a child eventually, a baby-Rational, a left-let, that flitted and thinned so that all three were in raptures and even Odeen would hold it and let it change shape in his hands for as long as Tritt would allow him to. For it was Tritt, of course, who had actually incubated it through the long pre-forming; Tritt who had separated from it when it assumed independent existence; and Tritt who cared for it at all times.
After that, Tritt was often not with them and Dua was oddly pleased. Tritt's obsession annoyed her, but Odeen's - oddly - pleased her. She became increasingly aware of his - importance. There was something to being a Rational that made it possible to answer questions, and somehow Dua had questions for him constantly. He was readier to answer when Tritt was not present.
"Why does it take so long, Odeen? I don't like to melt and then not know what's happening for days at a time."
"We're perfectly safe, Dua," said Odeen, earnestly. "Come, nothing has ever happened to us, has it? You've never heard of anything ever happening to any other triad, have you? Besides, you shouldn't ask questions."
"Because I'm an Emotional? Because other Emotionals don't ask questions? - I can't stand other Emotionals, if you want to know, and I do want to ask questions."
She was perfectly aware that Odeen was looking at her as though he had never seen anyone as attractive and that if Tritt had been present, melting would have taken place at once. She even let herself thin out; not much, but perceptibly, in deliberate coquettishness.
Odeen said, "But you might not understand the implications, Dua. It takes a great deal of energy to initiate a new spark of life."
"You've often mentioned energy. What is it? Exactly."
"Why, what we eat."
"Well, then, why don't you say food."
"Because food and energy aren't quite the same thing. Our food comes from the Sun and that's a kind of energy, but there are other kinds of energy that are not food. When we eat, we've got to spread out and absorb the light. It's hardest for Emotionals because they're much more transparent; that is, the light tends to pass through instead of being absorbed - "
It was wonderful to have it explained, Dua thought. What she was told, she really knew; but she didn't know the proper words;, the long science-words that Odeen knew. And it made sharper and more meaningful everything that happened.
Occasionally now, in adult life, when she no longer feared that childish teasing; when she shared in the prestige of being part of the Odeen-triad; she tried to swarm with other Emotionals and to withstand the chatter and the crowding. After all, she did occasionally feel like a more substantial meal than she usually got and it did make for better melting. There was a joy - sometimes she almost caught the pleasure the others got out of it - in slithering and maneuvering for exposure to Sunlight; in the luxurious contraction and condensation to absorb the warmth through greater thickness with greater efficiency.
Yet for Dua a little of that went quite a way and the others never seemed to have enough. There was a kind of gluttonous wiggle about them that Dua could not duplicate and that, at length, she could not endure.
That was why Rationals and Parentals were so rarely on the surface. Their thickness made it possible for them to eat quickly and leave. Emotionals writhed in the Sun for hours, for though they ate more slowly, they actually needed more energy than the others - at least for melting.
The Emotional supplied the energy, Odeen had explained (pulsing so that his signals were barely understood), the Rational the seed, the Parental the incubator.
Once Dua understood that, a certain amusement began to blend with her disapproval when she watched the other Emotionals virtually slurp up the ruddy Sunlight. Since they never asked questions, she was sure they didn't know why they did it and couldn't understand that there was an obscene side to their quivering condensations, or to the way in which they went tittering down below eventually - on their way to a good melt, of course, with lots of energy to spare.
She could also stand Tritt's annoyance when she would come down without that swirling opacity that meant a good gorging. Yet why should they complain? The thinness she retained meant a defter melting. Not as sloppy and glutinous as the other triads managed, perhaps, but it was the ethereality that counted, she felt sure. And the little-left and little-right came eventually, didn't they?
Of course, it was the baby-Emotional, the little-mid, that was the crux. That took more energy than the other two and Dua never had enough.
Even Odeen was beginning to mention it. "You're not getting enough Sunlight, Dua."
"Yes I am," said Dua, hastily.
"Genia's triad," said Odeen, "has just initiated an Emotional."
Dua didn't like Genia. She never had. She was emptyheaded even by Emotional standards. Dua said, loftily, "I suppose she's boasting about it. She has no delicacy. I suppose she's saying, 'I shouldn't mention it, my dear, but you'll never guess what my left-ling and right-ling have gone and went and done - ' " She imitated Genia's tremulous signaling with deadly accuracy and Odeen was amused.
But then he said, "Genia may be a dunder, but she has initiated an Emotional, and Tritt is upset about it. We've been at it for much longer than they have - "
Dua turned away. "I get all the Sun I can stand. I do it till I'm too full to move. I don't know what you want of me."
Odeen said, "Don't be angry. I promised Tritt I would talk to you. He thinks you listen to me - "
"Oh, Tritt just thinks it's odd that you explain science to me. He doesn't understand -  Do you want a mid-ling like the others?"
"No," said Odeen, seriously. "You're not like the others, and I'm glad of it. And if you're interested in Rational-talk, then let me explain something. The Sun doesn't supply the food it used to in ancient times. The light-energy is less; and it takes longer exposures. The birth rate has been dropping for ages and the world's population is only a fraction of what it once was."
"I can't help it," said Dua, rebelliously.
"The Hard Ones may be able to. Their numbers have been decreasing, too - "
"Do they pass on?" Dua was suddenly interested. She always thought they were immortal somehow; that they weren't born; that they didn't die. Who had ever seen a baby Hard One, for instance? They didn't have babies. They didn't melt. They didn't eat.
Odeen said, thoughtfully, "I imagine they pass on. They never talk about themselves to me. I'm not even sure how they eat, but of course they must. And be born. There's a new one, for instance; I haven't seen him yet -  But never mind that. The point is that they've been developing an artificial food - "
"I know," said Dua. "I've tasted it."
"You have? I didn't know that!"
"A bunch of the Emotionals talked about it They said a Hard One was asking for volunteers to taste it and the sillies were all afraid. They said it would probably turn them permanently hard and they would never be able to melt again."
"That's foolish," said Odeen, vehemently.
"I know. So I volunteered. That shut them up. They are so hard to endure, Odeen."
"How was it?"
"Horrible," said Dua, vehemently. "Harsh and bitter. Of course I didn't tell the other Emotionals that."
Odeen said, "I tasted it. It wasn't that bad."
"Rationals and Parentals don't care what food tastes like."
But Odeen said, "It's still only experimental. They're working hard on improvements, the Hard Ones are. Especially Estwald - that's the one I mentioned before, the new one I haven't seen - he's working on it. Losten speaks of him now and then as though he's something special; a very great scientist."
"How is it you've never seen him?"
"I'm just a Soft One. You don't suppose they show me and tell me everything, do you? Someday I'll see him, I suppose. He's developed a new energy-source which may save us all yet - "
"I don't want artificial food," said Dua, and she had left Odeen abruptly.
That had been not so long ago, and Odeen had not mentioned this Estwald again, but she knew he would, and she brooded about it up here in the Sunset.
She had seen that artificial food that once; a glowing sphere of light, like a tiny Sun, in a special cavern set up by the Hard Ones. She could taste its bitterness yet.
Would they improve it? Would they make it taste better? Even delicious? And would she have to eat it then and fill herself with it till the full sensation gave her an almost uncontrollable desire to melt?
She feared that self-generating desire. It was different when the desire came through the hectic combined stimulation of left-ling and right-ling. It was the self-generation that meant she would be ripe to bring about the initiation of a little-mid. And - and she didn't want to!
It was a long time before she would admit the truth to herself. She didn't ^want to initiate an Emotional! It was after the three children were all born that the time would inevitably come to pass on, and she didn't want to. She remembered the day her Parental had left her forever, and it was never going to be like that for her. Of that she was fiercely determined
The other Emotionals didn't care because they were too empty to think about it, but she was different. She was queer Dua, the Left-Em; that was what they had called her; and she would be different. As long as she didn't have that third child, she would not pass on; she would continue to live,
So she wasn't going to have that third child. Never. Never!
But how was she going to stave it off? And how would she keep Odeen from finding out? What if Odeen found out?
2b
Odeen waited for Tritt to do something. He was reasonably sure that Tritt would not actually go up to the surface after Dua. It would mean leaving the children and that was always hard for Tritt to do. Tritt waited, without speaking for a while, and when he left, it was in the direction of the children's alcove.
Odeen was almost glad when Tritt left. Not quite, of course, for Tritt had been angry and withdrawn so that interpersonal contact had weakened and the barrier of displeasure had arisen. Odeen could not help but be melancholy at that. It was like the slowing of the life-pulse. Hesometimes wondered if Tritt felt it, too. . . . No, that was unfair. Tritt had the special relationship with the children.
And as for Dua, who could tell what Dua felt? Who could tell what any Emotional felt? They were so different they made left and right seem alike in everything but mind. But even allowing for the erratic way of Emotionals, who could tell what Dua - especially Dua - felt?
That was why Odeen managed to be almost glad when Tritt left, for Dua was the question. The delay in initiating the third child was indeed becoming too long and Dua was growing less amenable to persuasion, not more. There was a growing restlessness in Odeen himself, that he could not quite identify, and it was something he would have to discuss with Losten.
He made his way down to the Hard-caverns, hastening his movements into a continuous flow that was not nearly as undignified as the oddly exciting mixture of wavering and rushing that marked the Emotional curve-along, or as amusing as the stolid weight-shift of the Parental -
(He had the keen thought-image of Tritt clumping in pursuit of the baby-Rational, who, of course, was almost as slippery, at his age, as an Emotional, and of Dua having to block the baby and bring him back, and of Tritt cluckingly undecided whether to shake the small life-object or enfold him with his substance. From the start, Tritt could thin himself more effectively for the babies than for Odeen and when Odeen rallied him about that, Tritt answered gravely, for of course he had no humor about such things, "Ah,-but the children need it more.")
Odeen was selfishly pleased with his own flow and thought it graceful and impressive. He had mentioned that once to Losten, to whom as his Hard-teacher, he confessed everything, and Losten had said, "But don't you think an Emotional or a Parental feels the same about his own flow-pattern? If each of you think differently and act differently, ought you not to be pleased differently? A triad doesn't preclude individuality, you know."
Odeen wasn't sure he understood about individuality. Did that mean being alone? A Hard One was alone, of course. There were no triads among them. How did they stand it?
Odeen had still been quite young when the matter had come up. His relationship with the Hard Ones had only been beginning, and it suddenly struck him that he wasn't sure that there were no triads among them. That fact was common legend among the Soft Ones, but how correct was the legend? Odeen thought about that and decided one must ask and not accept matters on faith.
Odeen had said, "Are you a left or a right, sir?" (In later times, Odeen pulsed at the memory of that question. How incredibly naive to have asked it, and it was very little comfort that every Rational asked the question of a Hard One in some fashion, sooner or later - usually sooner.)
Losten answered quite calmly, "Neither, little-left. There are no lefts or rights among the Hard Ones,"
"Or mid-1 -  Emotionals?"
"Or mid-lings?" And the Hard One changed the shape of his permanent sensory region in a fashion that Odeen eventually associated with amusement or pleasure. "No. No mid-lings either. Just Hard Ones of one kind."
Odeen had to ask. It came out involuntarily, quite against his desire. "But how do you stand it?"
"It is different with us, little-left. We are used to it."
Could Odeen be used to such a thing? There was the Parental triad that had filled his life so far and the sure knowledge that he would at some not-too-distant time form a triad of his own. What was life without that? He thought about it hard now and then. He though about everything hard, as it came up. Sometimes he managed to catch a glimpse of what it might mean. That Hard Ones had only themselves; neither left-brother, nor right-brother, nor mid-sister, nor melting, nor children, nor Parentals. They had only the mind, only the inquiry into the Universe.
Perhaps that was enough for them. As Odeen grew older, he caught bits of understanding as to the joys of inquiry. They were almost enough - almost enough - and then he would think of Tritt and of Dua and decide that even all the Universe beside was not quite enough.
Unless -  It was odd, but every once in a while it seemed that there might come a time, a situation, a condition, when -  Then he would lose the momentary glimpse, or, rather, glimpse of a glimpse, and miss it all. Yet in time it would return and lately he thought it grew stronger and would remain almost long enough to be caught.
But none of that was what should involve him now. He had to see about Dua. He made his way along the well-known route, along which he had first been taken by his Parental (as Tritt would soon take their own young Rational, their own baby-left.)
And, of course, he was instantly lost in memory again.
It had been frightening, then. There had been other young Rationals, all pulsing and shimmering and changing shape, despite the Parental signals on every side to stay firm and smooth and not disgrace the triad. One small left, a playmate of Odeen, had, in fact, flattened thin, baby-fashion, and would not unflatten, despite all the efforts of his horribly embarrassed Parental. (He had since become a perfectly normal student. . . . Though no Odeen, as Odeen himself could not help realizing with considerable complacency.)
They met a number of Hard Ones on that first day of school. They stopped at each, in order that the young-Rational vibration pattern might be recorded in several specialized ways and for a decision to be reached as to whether to accept them for instruction then, or to wait another interval; and if then, for what kind of instruction.
Odeen, in a desperate effort, had drawn himself smooth as a Hard One approached, and held himself unwavering.
The Hard One said (and the first sound of the odd tones of his voice almost undid Odeen's determination to be grown-up), "This is quite a firm-held Rational. How do you represent yourself, left?"
It was the first time Odeen had ever been called "left" instead of in the form of some diminutive, and he felt firmer than ever as he managed to say, "Odeen, Hard-sir," using the polite address his Parental had carefully taught him.
Dimly, Odeen remembered being taken through the Hard-caverns, with their equipment, their machinery, their libraries, their meaningless, crowding sights and sounds. More than -  the actual sense perceptions, he remembered his inner feeling of despair. What would they do with him? His Parental had told him that he would learn, but he didn't know what was really meant by "learn" and when he asked his Parental, it turned out that the older one didn't know either.
It took him a while to find out and the experience was pleasurable, so pleasurable, and yet net without its worrisome aspects.
The Hard One who had first called him "left" was his first teacher. The Hard One taught him to interpret the wave recordings so that after a while what seemed an incomprehensible code became words; words just as clear as those he could form with his own vibrations.
But then that first one didn't appear any more and an-, other Hard One took over. It was a time before Odeen noticed. It was difficult in those early days to tell one Hard One from another, to differentiate among their voices. But then he grew certain. Little by little, he grew certain and he trembled at the change. He didn't understand its significance.
He gathered courage and finally asked, "Where is my teacher, Hard-sir?"
"Gamaldan? . . . He will no longer be with you, left." Odeen was speechless for a moment. Then he said, "But Hard Ones don't pass on - " He did not quite finish the phrase. It choked off.
The new Hard One was passive, said nothing, volunteered nothing.
It was always to be like that, Odeen found out. They never talked about themselves. On every other subject they discoursed freely. Concerning themselves - nothing.
From dozens of pieces of evidence, Odeen could not help but decide that Hard Ones passed on; that they were not immortal (something so many Soft Ones took for granted). Yet no Hard One ever said as much. Odeen and the other student-Rationals sometimes discussed it, hesitantly, uneasily. Each brought in some small item that pointed inexorably to mortality of the Hard Ones and wondered and did not like to conclude the obvious, so they let it go.
The Hard Ones did not seem to mind that hints of mortality existed. They did nothing to mask it. But they never mentioned it, either. And if the question was asked directly (sometimes it was, inevitably) they never answered; neither denying nor affirming.
And if they passed on, they had to be born' also, yet they said nothing of that and Odeen never saw a young Hard One.
Odeen believed the Hard Ones got their energy from rocks instead of from the Sun - at least that they incorporated a powdered black rock into their bodies. Some of the other students thought so, too. Others, rather vehemently, refused to accept that. Nor could they come to a conclusion for no one ever saw them feeding in any way and the Hard Ones never spoke of that either.
In the end, Odeen took their reticence for granted - as part of themselves. Perhaps, he thought, it was their individuality, the fact that they formed no triads. It built a shell about them.
And then, too, Odeen learned things of such grave import that questions concerning the private life of the Hard Ones turned to trivia in any case. He learned, for instance, that the whole world was shriveling - dwindling -
It was Losten, the new teacher, who told him that.
Odeen had asked about the unoccupied caverns that stretched so endlessly Into the bowels of the world and Losten had seemed pleased. "Are you afraid to ask about that, Odeen?"
(He was Odeen now; not some general reference to his left-hood. It was always a source of pride to hear a Hard One address him by personal name. Many did so. Odeen was a prodigy of understanding and the use of his name seemed a recognition of the fact. More than once Losten had expressed satisfaction at having him as a pupil.)
Odeen was indeed afraid and, after some hesitation, said so. It was always easier to confess shortcomings to the Hard Ones than to fellow-Rationals; much easier than to confess < them to Tritt, unthinkable to confess them to Tritt . . . Those were the days before Dua.
"Then why do you ask?"
Odeen hesitated again. Then he said slowly. "I'm afraid of the unoccupied caverns because when I was young I was told they had all sorts of monstrous things in them. But I know nothing of that directly; I only know what I have been told by other young ones who couldn't have known directly either, I want to find out the truth about them and the wanting has grown until there is more of curiosity in me than fear."
Losten looked pleased. "Good! The curiosity is useful, the fear useless. Your inner development is excellent, Odeen, and remember it is only your inner development that counts in the important things. Our help to you is marginal. Since you want to know, it is easy to tell you that the unoccupied caverns are truly unoccupied. They are empty. There is nothing in them but the unimportant things left behind in times past."
"Left behind by whom, Hard-sir?" Odeen felt uneasily compelled to use the honorific whenever he was too obviously in the presence of knowledge he lacked that the other had.
"By those who occupied them in times past. There was a time thousands of cycles ago when there were many thousands of Hard Ones and millions of Soft Ones. There are fewer of us now than there were in the past, Odeen. Nowadays there are not quite three hundred Hard Ones and fewer than ten thousand Soft Ones."
"Why?" said Odeen, shocked. (Only three_ hundred Hard Ones left. This was surely an open admission that Hard Ones passed on, but this was not the time to think of that.)
"Because energy is diminishing. The Sun is cooling. It .becomes harder in every cycle to give birth and to live."
(Well, then, did not that mean the Hard Ones gave birth, too? And did it mean that the Hard Ones depended on the Sun for food, too, and not on rocks? Odeen filed the thought away and dismissed it for now.)
"Will this continue?" Odeen asked.
"The Sun must dwindle to an end, Odeen, and someday give no food."
"Does that mean that all of us, the Hard Ones and the Soft Ones, too, will pass on?"
"What else can it mean?"
"We can't all pass on. If we need energy and the Sun is coming to an end, we must find other sources. Other stars."
"But," Odeen, all the stars are coming to an end. The Universe is coming to an end."
"If the stars come to an end, is there no food elsewhere? No other source of energy?"
"No, all the energy-sources in all the Universe are coming to an end."
Odeen considered that rebelliously, then said, "Then other Universes. We can't give up just because the Universe does." He was palpitating as he said it. He had expanded with quite unforgivable discourtesy until he had swelled translucently into a size distinctly larger than the Hard One.
But Losten merely expressed extreme pleasure. He said, "Wonderful, my left-dear. The others must hear of this."
Odeen had collapsed to normal size in mingled embarrassment and pleasure at hearing himself addressed as "left-dear," a phrase he had never heard anyone use to him - except Tritt, of course.
It had not been very long after that that Loston himself had brought them Dua. Odeen had wondered, idly, if there had been any connection, but after a while wonder burned itself out. Tritt had repeated so often that it was his own approach to Losten that had brought them Dua, that Odeen gave up thinking about it. It was too confusing.
But now he was coming to Losten again. A long time had passed since those earlier days when he first learned that the Universe was coming to an end and that (as it turned out) the Hard Ones were resolutely laboring to live on anyway. He himself had become adept in many fields and Losten confessed that in physics there was little he could any longer teach Odeen that a Soft One could profitably learn. And there were other young Rationals to take in hand, so he did not see Losten as frequently as he once did.
Odeen found Losten with two half-grown Rationals in the Radiation Chamber. Losten saw him at once through the glass and came out, closing the door carefully behind him.
"My left-dear," he said, holding out his limbs in a gesture of friendship (so that Odeen, as so often in the past, experienced a perverse desire to touch, but controlled it). "How are you?"
"I did not mean to interrupt, Losten-sir."
"Interrupt? Those two will get along perfectly well by themselves for a time. They are probably glad to see me go, for I am sure I weary them with over-much talk."
"Nonsense," said Odeen. "You always fascinated me and I'm sure you fascinate them."
"Well, well. It is good of you to say so. I see you frequently in the library, and I hear from others that you do well in your advanced courses, and that makes me miss my best student. How is Tritt? Is he as Parentally stubborn in his ways as ever?"
"More stubborn every day. He gives strength to the triad."
"And Dua?"
"Dua? I have come -  She is very unusual, you know."
Losten nodded, "Yes, I know that." His expression was one that Odeen had grown to associate with melancholy.
Odeen waited a moment, then decided to tackle the matter directly. He said, "Losten-sir, was she brought to us, to Tritt and myself, just because she was unusual?"
Losten said, "Would you be surprised? You are very unusual yourself, Odeen, and you have told me on a number of occasions that Tritt is."
"Yes," said Odeen, with conviction. "He is."
"Then oughtn't your triad include an unusual Emotional?"
"There are many ways of being unusual," said Odeen, thoughtfully. "In some ways, Dua's odd ways displease Tritt and worry me. May I consult you?"
"Always."
"She is not fond of - of melting."
Losten listened gravely; to all appearances unembarrassed.
Odeen went on. "She is fond of melting when we melt, that is, but it is not always easy to persuade her to do so."
Losten said, "How does Tritt feel about melting? I mean, aside from the immediate pleasure of the act? What does it mean to him besides pleasure?"
"The children, of course," said Odeen. "I like them and Dua likes them, too, but Tritt is the Parental. Do you understand that?" (It suddenly seemed to Odeen that Losten couldn't possibly understand all the subtleties of the triad.)
"I try to understand," said Losten. "It seems to me, then, that Tritt gets more out of melting than melting alone. And how about yourself? What do you get out of it besides the pleasure?"
Odeen considered. "I think you know that A kind of mental stimulation."
"Yes, I know that, but I want to make sure you know. I want to make sure you haven't forgotten. You have told me often that when you come out of a period of melting, with its odd loss of time - during which I admit I sometimes didn't see you for rather long periods - that suddenly you found yourself understanding many things that had seemed obscure before."
"It was as though my mind remained active in the interval," said Odeen. "It was as though there was time which, even though I was unaware of its passing and unconscious of my existence, was necessary to me; during which I could think more deeply and intensely, without the distraction of the less intellectual side of life."
"Yes," agreed Losten, "and you'd come back with a quantum-jump in understanding. It is a common thing among you Rationals, though I must admit no one improved in such great jumps as you did. I honestly think no Rational in history did so."
"Really?" said Odeen, trying not to seem unduly elated.
"On the other hand, I may be wrong" - and Losten seemed slightly amused at the other's sudden loss of shimmer - "but never mind that. The point is that you, like Tritt, get something out of the melt beside the melt itself."
"Yes. Most certainly."
"And what does Dua get out of the melt besides the melt?"
There was a long pause. "I don't know," said Odeen.
"Have you never asked her?"
"Never."