The Whipping Star (4 page)

"Explanation of whipping describes production of froth," the Caleban said.  "Not proper term.  Abnethe orders me flogged."

"That thing talks like a computer," Furuneo said.

"Let me handle this," McKie ordered.

"Computer describes mechanical device," the Caleban said.  "I live."

"He meant no insult," McKie said.

"Insult not interpreted."

"Does the flogging hurt you?" McKie asked.

"Explain hurt."

"Cause you discomfort?"

"Reference recalled.  Such sensations explained.  Explanations cross no connectives."

Cross no connectives? McKie thought.  "Would you choose to be flogged?" he asked.

"Choice made," the Caleban said.

"Well . . . would you make the same choice if you had it to do over?" McKie asked.

"Confusing reference," the Caleban said.  "If over refers to repetition, I make no voice in repetition.  Abnethe sends Palenki with whip, and flogging occurs."

"A Palenki!" Furuneo said.  He shuddered.

"You knew it had to be something like that," McKie said.  "What else could you get to do such a thing except a creature without much brain and lots of obedient muscle?"

"But a Palenki!  Couldn't we hunt for .  .  ."

"We've known from the first what she had to be using," McKie said.  "Where do you hunt for one Palenki?"  He shrugged.  "Why can't Calebans understand the concept of being hurt?  Is it pure semantics, or do they lack the proper nerve linkages?"

"Understand nerves," the Caleban said.  "Any sentience must possess control linkages.  But hurt . . . discontinuity of meaning appears insurmountable."

"Abnethe can't stand the sight of pain, you said," Furuneo reminded McKie.

"Yeah.  How does she watch the floggings?"

"Abnethe views my home," the Caleban said.

When no further answer was forthcoming, McKie said, "I don't understand.  What's that have to do with it?"

"My home this," the Caleban said.  "My home contains . . . aligns?  Master S'eye.  Abnethe possesses connectives for which she pays."

McKie wondered if the Caleban were playing some sarcastic game with him.  But all the information about them made no reference to sarcasm.  Word confusions, yes, but no apparent insults or subterfuges.  Not understand pain, though?

"Abnethe sounds like a mixed-up bitch," McKie muttered.

"Physically unmixed," the Caleban said.  "Isolated in her own connectives now, but unified and presentable by your standards -- so say judgments made in my presence.  If, however, you refer to Abnethe psyche, mixed-up conveys accurate description.  What I see of Abnethe psyche most intertwined.  Convolutions of odd color displace my vision-sense in extraordinary fashion."

McKie gulped.  "You see her psyche?"

"I see all psyche."

"So much for the theory that Calebans cannot see," Furuneo said.  "All is illusion, eh?"

"How . . . how is this possible?" McKie asked.

"I occupy space between physical and mental," the Caleban said.  "Thus your fellow sentients explain in your terminology.  "

"Gibberish," McKie said.

"You achieve discontinuity of meaning," the Caleban said.

"Why did you accept Abnethe's offer of employment?" McKie asked.

"No common referent for explanation," the Caleban said.

"You achieve discontinuity of meaning," Furuneo said.

"So I surmise," the Caleban said.

"I must find Abnethe," McKie said.

"I give warning," the Caleban said.

"Watch it," Furuneo whispered.  "I sense rage that's not connected with the angeret."

McKie waved him to silence.  "What warning, Fanny Mae?"

"Potentials in your situation," the Caleban said.  "I allow my . . . person?  Yes, my person.  I allow my person to entrap itself in association which fellow sentients may interpret as non-friendly."

McKie scratched his head, wondered how close they were to anything that could validly be called communication.  He wanted to come right out and inquire about the Caleban disappearances, the deaths and insanity, but feared possible consequences.

"Non-friendly," he prompted.

"Understand," the Caleban said, "life which flows in all carries subternal connectives.  Each entity remains linked until final discontinuity removes from . . . network?  Yes, linkages of other entities into association with Abnethe.  Should personal discontinuity overtake self, all entities entangled share it."

"Discontinuity?" McKie asked, not sure he followed this but afraid he did.

"Tanglements come from contact between sentients not originating in same linearities of awareness," the Caleban said, ignoring McKie's question.

"I'm not sure what you mean by discontinuity," McKie pressed.

"In context," the Caleban said, "ultimate discontinuity, presumed opposite of pleasure -- your term."

"You're getting nowhere," Furuneo said.  His head ached from trying, to equate the radiant impulses of communication from the Caleban with speech.

"Sounds like a semantic identity situation," McKie said.  "Black and white statements, but we're trying to find an interpretation in between."

"All between," the Caleban said.

"Presumed opposite of pleasure," McKie muttered.

"Our term," Furuneo reminded him.

"Tell me, Fanny Mae," McKie said, "do we other sentients refer to this ultimate discontinuity as death?"

"Presumed approximate term," the Caleban said.  "Abnegation of mutual awareness, ultimate discontinuity, death -- all appear similar descriptives."

"If you die, many others are going to die, is that it?" McKie asked.

"All users of S'eye.  All in tanglement

"All?" McKie asked, shocked.

"All such in your . . . wave?  Difficult concept.  Calebans possess label for this concept . . . plane?  Planguinity of beings?  Surmise proper term not shared.  Problem concealed in visual exclusion which clouds mutual association."

Furuneo touched McKie's arm.  "Is she saying that if she dies, everyone who's used a S'eye jumpdoor goes with her?"

"Sounds like it."

"I don't believe it!"

"The evidence would seem to indicate we have to believe her."

"But . . . ."

"I wonder if she's in any danger of going soon," McKie mused aloud.

"If you grant the premise, that's a good question," Furuneo said.

"What precedes your ultimate discontinuity, Fanny Mae?" McKie asked.

"All precedes ultimate discontinuity."

"Yeah, but are you headed toward this ultimate discontinuity?"

"Without choice, all head for ultimate discontinuity."

McKie mopped his forehead.  The temperature inside the ball had been going up steadily.

"I fulfill demands of honor," the Caleban said.  "Acquaint you with prospect.  Sentients of your . . . planguinity appear unable, lacking means of withdrawal from influence of my association with Abnethe.  Communication understood?"

"McKie," Furuneo said, "have you any idea how many sentients have used a jumpdoor?"

"Damn near everyone."

"Communication understood?" the Caleban repeated.

"I don't now," McKie groaned.

"Difficult sharing of concepts," the Caleban said.

"I still don't believe it," McKie said.  "It squares with what some of the other Calebans said, near as we can reconstruct it after the messes they've left."

"Understand withdrawal of companions creates disruption," the Caleban said.  "Disruption equates with mess?"

"That's about it," McKie said.  "Tell me, Fanny Mae, is there immediate danger of your . . . ultimate discontinuity?"

"Explain imminent," the Caleban said.

"Soon!" McKie snapped.  "Short time!"

"Time concept difficult," the Caleban said.  "You inquire of personal ability to surmount flagellation?"

"That's good enough," McKie said.  "How many more flagellations can you survive?"

"Explain survive," the Caleban said.

"How many flagellations until you experience ultimate discontinuity?" McKie demanded, fighting down the angeret-reinforced frustration.

"Perhaps ten flagellations," the Caleban said.  "Perhaps lesser number.  Perhaps more."

"And your death will kill all of us?"  McKie asked, hoping he'd misunderstood.

"Lesser number than all," the Caleban said.

"You just think you're understanding her," Furuneo said.

"I'm afraid I understand her!"

"Fellow Calebans," the Caleban said, "recognizing entrapment, achieve withdrawing.  Thus they avoid discontinuity."

"How many Calebans remain in our . . . plane?" McKie asked.

"Single entity of selfness," the Caleban said.

"Just the one," McKie muttered.  "That's a damn thin thread!"

"I don't see how the death of one Caleban can cause all that havoc," Furuneo said.

"Explain by comparison," the Caleban said.  "Scientist of your planguinity explains reaction of stellar selfdom.  Stellar mass enters expanding condition.  In this condition, stellar mass engulfs and reduces all substances to other energy patterns.  All substances encountered by stellar expansion change.  Thus ultimate discontinuity of personal selfdom reaches along linkages of S'eye connectives, repatterns all entities encountered."

"Stellar selfdom," Furuneo said, shaking his head.

"Incorrect term?" the Caleban asked, "Energy selfdom, perhaps."

"She's saying," McKie said, "that use of S'eye doors has tangled us with her life some way.  Her death will reach out like a stellar explosion along all these tangled networks and kill us."

"That's what you think she's saying," Furuneo objects,,

"That's what I have to believe she's saying," McKie said.  "Our communication may be tenuous, but I think she's sincere.  Can't you still feel the emotions radiating from her?"

"Two species can be said to share emotions only in the broadest way," Furuneo said.  "She doesn't even understand what we mean by pain."

"Scientist of your planguinity," the Caleban said, "Explains emotional base for communication.  Lacking emotional commonality, sameness of labels uncertain.  Emotion concept not certain for Calebans.  Communication difficulty assumed."

McKie nodded to himself.  He could see a further complication:  the problem of whether the Caleban's words were spoken or radiated in some unthinkable manner completed their confusion.

"I believe you're right in one thing," Furuneo said.

"Yes?

"We have to assume we understand her."

McKie swallowed in a dry throat.  "Fanny Mae," he said, "have you explained this ultimate discontinuity prospect to Mliss Abnethe?"

"Problem explained," the Caleban said.  "Fellow Calebans attempt remedy of error.  Abnethe fails of comprehension, or disregards consequences.  Connectives difficult."

"Connectives difficult," McKie muttered.

"All connectives of single S'eye," the Caleban said.  "Master S'eye of self creates mutual problem."

"Don't tell me you understand that," Furuneo objected.

"Abnethe employs Master S'eye of self," the Caleban said:  "Contract agreement gives Abnethe right of use.  One Master S'eye of self.  Abnethe uses."

"So she opens a jumpdoor and sends her Palenki through it," Furuneo said.  "Why don't we just wait here and grab her?"

"She could close the door before we even got near her," McKie growled.  "No, there's more to what this Caleban's saying.  I think she's telling us there's only one Master S'eye, the control system, perhaps, for all the jumpdoors . . . and Fanny Mae here is in control of it, or the channel operation or .  .  ."

"Or something," Furuneo snarled.

"Abnethe control S'eye by right of purchase," the Caleban said.

"See what I mean?" McKie said.  "Can you override her control, Fanny Mae?"

"Terms of employment require not interfere."

"But can't you still use your own S'eye doors?" McKie pressed.

"All use," the Caleban said.

"This is insane!" Furuneo snapped.

"Insanity defines as lack of orderly thought progression in mutual acceptance of logical terms," the Caleban said.  "Insanity frequent judgment of one species upon other species.  Proper interpretation otherwise."

"I think I just had my wrist slapped," Furuneo said.

"Look," McKie said, "the other deaths and insanity around Caleban disappearances substantiate our interpretation.  We're dealing with something explosive and dangerous."

"So we find Abnethe and stop her."

"You make that sound so simple," McKie said.  "Here are your orders.  Get out of here and alert the Bureau.  The Caleban's communication won't show on your recorder, but you'll have it all down in your memory.  Tell them to scan you for it."

"Right.  You're staying?"

"Yes."

"What'll I say you're doing?"

"I want a look at Abnethe's companions and her surroundings."

Furuneo cleared his throat.  Gods of the underworld, it was hot!  "Have you thought of, you know, just bang?"  He made the motion of firing a raygen.

"There's a limit on what can go through a jumpdoor and how fast," McKie chided.  "You know that."

"Maybe this jumpdoor's different."

"I doubt it."

"After I've reported in, what then?"

"Sit tight outside there until I call you -- unless they give you a message for me.  Oh, and start a general search on Cordiality . . . just in case."

"Of course."  Furuneo hesitated.  "One thing -- who do I contact at the Bureau?  Bildoon?"

McKie glanced up.  Why should Furuneo question whom to call?  What was he trying to say?

It dawned on McKie then that Furuneo had hit on a logical concern.  BuSab director Napoleon Bildoon was a PanSpechi, a pentarchal sentient, human only in appearance.  Since McKie, a human, held nominal charge of this case, that might appear to confine control of it, excluding other members of the ConSentiency.  Interspecies political infighting could take odd turns in a time of stress.  It would be best to involve a broad directorate here.

"Thanks," McKie said.  "I wasn't thinking much beyond the immediate problem."

"This is the immediate problem."

"I understand.  All right, I was tapped for this chore by our Director of Discretion."