But that would be folly. She could not afford to engage in dialogue with all the myriad alternate-Aquilons she could reach. There was a job to do, and she should do it -- or go home. "You're in danger. You can save yourself but not the egg." A human being could fight off a machine if properly armed or escape it -- but hardly while carrying the egg. She had seen an agent tackle one in another alternate. Interesting that the orientation of her projector seemed to be on those alternates where other human beings had projected aboard, as though all projectors were somehow linked. The connection was geographic, too; obviously if she had projected to this desert world a hundred miles from this spot, she would not have been able to fetch the egg. It all implied some higher agency -- something else to think about when she had the time. "There is little time, and it's too complicated to explain right now. Give it to me!" She reached out, hating the necessity for this brusque language, so unlike her. But she knew if she delayed any more, she would lose her nerve, and the job would not get done.

"No!" The girl retreated, hugging the egg.

"Give it to me!" Aquilon cried.

The girl straight-armed her. They fell together over a bag of supplies. The egg was caught between them and crushed, destroying the chick within.

"Oh, no!" Aquilon cried, her dream dying with the chick. Tears streamed down her face. "I came to save it -- and I smashed it!"

The alternate was crying, too. But tears could not reconst.i.tute the egg.

Aquilon staggered away, heedless of direction. A few paces into the sand she remembered the projection key. She took it out of her mouth and squeezed it.

Back at catal Huyuk she washed herself, donned her robe, and went out onto the roof of the city. There was a numbness inside her that would not abate. She had traveled to an alternate and done irreparable damage thereby because of her lack of planning and carelessness and impetuosity. What penance could she do?

After an hour she returned to the chamber with a heavy mallet and smashed the projector and screen. Never again would she trifle with alternity.

Chapter 18.

REPORT.

PATTERN ALERT: SURVIVAL.

Pattern-ent.i.ties, unable to comprehend the nature of physical sentience but unable to ignore it as a potential nonsurvival threat, inst.i.tuted an enclave consisting of five divergent sentient ent.i.ties: a pattern, a machine, and three forms of life -- fungoid, avian, and mammal. There were also nonsentient plants and a population of sub-sapient animals upon which the sentients preyed.

The purpose was to observe the interaction of sentients, drawing inferences concerning their natures and survival potential within a restrictive environment. This information might enable the patterns to determine the extent of the potential threat to survival posed by the physical sentients.

To be certain that survival was the primary issue, the enclave was so designed that none of the occupants could survive comfortably without pre-empting the needs of the others. There were insufficient elements for the pattern, minerals for the machine, prey for the living predators, or mixed organic substances for the mammal infant. Direct compet.i.tion was required.

In order to obtain a complete picture, a system of alternate-frame holography was used. Holography, as practiced in the physical scheme, involves the division of a given beam of energy into parts, one part subjected to an experience the other lacks. The resultant difference between the parts thus defines the experience. In this case, mature representatives of the sentient species were provided the means to observe some of the interactions within the enclave and within the framework of alternity itself. In this manner the reactions of the physical sentients could be contrasted to those of the nonphysical sentients, and the changes in the physical sentients contrasted to their like counterparts, rounding out the picture.

The experiment was not entirely successful. All the sample ent.i.ties of the enclave survived despite its deliberately restrictive situation, and a majority of the travelers through alternity also survived -- but this did not enlighten the pattern-ent.i.ties. There was initial compet.i.tion in both environments, followed by cooperation that greatly enhanced survival. The information did not fall into neat patterns, and the mechanisms and motives of the physicals remained unclear. The pattern-ent.i.ties therefore ignored the experiment, failing to act or even respond even when the ent.i.ties of both groups made serious attempts to communicate. The failure was not in the conception or execution of the plan but in the patterns' inability to interpret the results or to act on data received.

What had been intended as an exercise of short duration became one of greater scope -- because it was left alone. In due course the ent.i.ties of the enclave, utilizing techniques largely incomprehensible to the watching patterns, achieved comprehension and powers beyond those of their background societies. Patterns have substantial limitations in the physical world; physical creatures are similarly restricted in the pattern framework. True science is a combination of the two systems.

Only through a conceptual technology developed from the merging of systems can true progress be made. This means complete and free interaction between all forms of sentience. We -- the five sentient ent.i.ties of the enclave -- have worked out the principles of such interaction. We are able to communicate meaningfully with all of the intellects we represent, as demonstrated by this report, which is being conveyed to representative frames for each of these types.

We feel that the fundamental knowledge must be placed in the minds of those ent.i.ties best able to utilize it, with the proviso that it be used only to facilitate harmony and progress among all the alternates. We feel that four of our five representative species lack suitable philosophies or talents for this purpose. The fungoids and the aves do not have either the inclination or the manual dexterity to operate the necessary constructs. The mams have both -- but lack appropriate social control. They are predators, exploiters: in their own description, "omnivores," destroyers of differing systems. Therefore, this power can not be entrusted to their possession. The pattern-ent.i.ties are also capable and have better philosophical mores. But their cynicism in setting up this enclave and the a.s.sociated "hexaflexagon" pattern of alternate frames shows that their philosophy is incomplete. Sentients are not to be toyed with in this fashion. In fact, the patterns have such extraordinary difficulty comprehending the nuances of physical need and operation that we feel that they, too, are unsuitable.

Only one species possesses incentive, capability, and philosophy to make proper use of the information and to carry through effectively on the implied commitment. For this species only, we append our technical report, granting the power of alternity.

We believe the machines well serve the need.

Chapter 19.

ORN.

Orn heard the terrible squawk and knew its meaning instantly. The predator mam had caught Ornette and killed her. Now it would come for him.

He did not feel grief, only loss. Now he had no mate, and the line of his species was ended -- unless he found another mate or preserved the eggs. Neither he nor his eggs would survive if this man caught him -- and the mam cub would perish, also.

Orn did not think in the manner of reps or mams. His mind was experience, and the experience was millions of seasons long: a racial memory. It did not employ words at all; to him, "mam" was that complex of impressions generated by the presence of fur-bearing, infant-nursing, warm-bodied vertebrates. "Rep," "aves," and the various representatives of such cla.s.ses were similar concepts.

Orn knew the manner his kind had survived, back as far as his species had existed distinct from other aves. He was well equipped for survival in the world his ancestors had known. But that world had changed, and this made survival perilous.

Orn's ancestry contained no record of a chase by a predator mam, for mams had been tiny prey for most of their species duration. Thus, he had never experienced a threat of the kind this represented. But Orn was expert in hiding and in hunting -- indeed, the two were aspects of the same process. He knew this mam was as savage and deadly as a young tyrann. If it caught him it would kill him and take the eggs and cub.

So he fled -- but he did it expertly. He put his long neck through the front loop of the nest-cart and drew it behind him. The cub began to make noise. Immediately, Orn twisted his head about, bent his neck down, and found the chip of wood that was used for such occasions. He put it in the cub's mouth. The cub sucked on it and stopped crying.

Orn hauled the wagon into a dense thicket near a turbulently flowing stream, concealing it from the exposure of both light and sound. He washed his beak and feet in the stream, temporarily cutting down on his typical odor. Then he sc.r.a.ped over the traces the cart's wheels had made, carefully placing pine needles, palm fronds, and half-decayed brush in place so that it matched the forest floor. He found the rotting, arth-riddled corpse of a small rep and placed it nearby: That smell would override all else.

This was not the way Orn reasoned, for his mind did not work that way. It was merely the acc.u.mulated and sophisticated experience of his species. As the arths constructed elaborate warrens and performed many specialized tasks, so he performed in the manner survival had always dictated. That he did it consciously only reflected the talent of his species: His memories were far greater than those of arths, reps, or any other species and required far more sophistication of choice. But memory it was, not reasoning.

His camouflage completed, he washed himself again, waded downstream, and spotted a small grazing rep: a baby tricer. He pounced on it, digging his claws into the creature's back just behind the protective head-f.l.a.n.g.e.

The slow-witted rep emitted a squeal of pain and whipped its head about. But Orn held his position just out of reach of the crushing bone, digging his powerful talons in deeper, flapping his stubby wings to maintain his balance. Unable to dislodge his attacker, the tricer stampeded. Orn rode it, guiding it by tightening the grip of one foot or the other, causing it to shy away from the increased pain.

Finally, Orn jumped off it, releasing the rep to its own devices. He had, in effect, flown: He had traveled a distance leaving no recognizable trace of his pa.s.sage. No predator could follow his trail by sight or scent back to the hidden nest.

Now he made an unconcealed trail that led obliquely away from that nest. He knew the predator mam would come across it in due course and would recognize it. Orn made several big circles so that there was no obvious point of termination to betray his ruse, then set off for the territory of the largest and fiercest tyrann in the valley. The man would find plenty to distract him, following this trail!

But Orn had underestimated the cunning of this beast. The mam did not pursue his mock trail directly. He set an ambush for Orn.

Only the silence of the arths of the region alerted the bird. Normally, the little flying, crawling, and tunneling creatures were audible all around -- except when an unnatural presence alarmed them. When Orn entered this pocket of quiescence, he knew something was wrong.

He retreated silently -- but the mam was aware of him. A bush burst into fire beside him: the lightning strike of the mam's weapon.

Orn ran. The mam pursued. Orn was fleet, for his kind had always hunted by running down their prey. But this mam was far swifter on his feet than others of his type, the Veg and the Quilon. Orn had to exert himself to an extraordinary extent to leave it behind -- and then he was unable to conceal his trail properly.

He could lead it in a long chase, hoping to tire it: Orn could run for days. But meanwhile the eggs were slowly growing cold. The warmth of the mam cub beside them in the nest and the covering of feathers and fibers extended the time those eggs could be left -- but the night was coming. Both eggs and cub would need attention -- the one for warmth, the other for food. If the cub were not fed, it would make noise -- and that would summon the predator mam or a predator rep. Orn knew these things from recent experience.

He had to lose the mam quickly, then return to the nest for the night. Because it was well concealed, he should be able to leave it where it was until morning.

But the mam would not relinquish his trail. It fell back but never enough to permit him to eliminate his traces. He was in trouble.

Then a fung found him. Only with difficulty had Orn learned to comprehend these plant-creatures, for they were completely alien to his ancestry. Now he identified them fairly readily. They bounded across land or water faster than any other creature, and their strike was deadly -- but they killed only for their food and fought only for the two friendly mams. Orn had no concern about the fungs.

Now he realized that its presence signified a development in the conflict with the predator mams. But he was unable to communicate with the creature.

The fung dropped before him and coalesced into its stationary shape. Though Orn could not afford to wait long, he knew there was motive behind this presence. He inspected the fung at close range.

The creature was injured. Fluids oozed from it.

Then Orn knew that the friendly mams had succ.u.mbed. This was the Circe fung, companion of the Quilon. It had been rent by a predator weapon. It had sought him out to show him this.