For the first time, I saw their eyes engage each other, in that instinctive reflex action which is always a sign of weakness. They were wanting to find out from each other what this thing "enemy" might be. And yet their reports had said, at least at the beginning of our experiment with Rohanda, that there were rumours of spies, and surely spies implied enemies, even to the most innocent.
I saw that these were a species who, for some reason quite unforeseen, could not think in terms of enemies. I could hardly believe it. Certainly I had not experienced anything like this on any other planet.
"When you told me, Jarsum, that you were monitoring your column, that you had suspected something was wrong, then what did you mean?"
"The currents have been uneven," he said promptly, with all the responsibility and grasp he was capable of. "We noticed it a few days ago. There are always slight variations, of course. There might sometimes be intermissions. But we none of us remember this particular quality of variation. There is something new. And you have explained why."
"But there is more to it than I have said."
Again a general, if slight, movement of unease, the shifting of limbs, small sighs.
Against this resistance I gave them a short history of the Puttiora Empire, and its colony Shammat.
It wasn't that they were not listening, rather they seemed unable to listen.
I repeated and insisted. Shammat, I said, had had agents on this planet for some time. Had there been no reports of aliens? Of suspicious activity?
Jarsum's eyes wandered. Met mine. Slid away.
"Jarsum," I said, "is there no memory among you that your ancestors - your fathers even - believed there might be hostile elements here?"
"The southern territories have been co-operative for a long time."
"No, not the Sirian territories."
Again, sighs and movements.
I tried to keep it as brief as I could.
I said that this planet, under the changed influences of the relevant stars, would suddenly find itself short of - as it were - fuel. Yes, yes, I knew I had told them this. But Shammat had found out about this, and was already tapping the currents and forces.
Rohanda, now Shikasta, the broken, the hurt one, was like a rich garden, planned to be dependent on a water supply that was inexhaustible. But it turned out that it was not inexhaustible. This garden could not be maintained as it had been. But a slight, very poor supply of Canopean power would still seep through to feed Shikasta; it would not entirely starve. But even this slight flow of power was being depleted. By Shammat. No, we did not know how, and we wanted urgently to find out.
We believed that a minimum of maintenance would be possible, the "garden" would not entirely vanish. But in order to plan and to do, then we must know everything there was to be known about the nature of our enemy.
No response. Not of the kind I needed.
"For one thing," I insisted, "the more the Natives degenerate, the more they weaken and lose substance, the better that will be for Shammat. Do you see? The worse the quality of the Canopus/Shikasta flow, the better for Shammat! Like to like! Shammat cannot feed on the high, the pure, the fine. It is poison to them. The level of the Lock in the past has been far above the grasp of Shammat. They are lying in wait, for the precise moment when their nature, the Shammat nature, can fasten with all its nasty force onto the substance of the Lock! They are already withdrawing strength, they are feeding themselves and getting fat and noisy on it, but this is nothing to what will happen unless we can somehow prevent them. Do you see?" But they did not. They could not.
They had become unable to take in the idea of theft and parasitism. It was no longer in their genetic structure, perhaps - though how such a change had come about is hard to tell. At any rate, I saw that there was nothing I could say that would get through to them. Not on this subject. I would have to make efforts myself.
My first was to spend time with Jarsum, when the transmitting sessions were over, and to try and make an impact on him. From him I got every kind of help and information on any subject but one. The transmitting sessions went on. They were always the same. A theme would be brought forward, held in the minds of those present, a little discussion might take place, or there might be continuous silence. The theme, as translated into ideas and facets in the individual minds of the Giants, would be enriched and developed: and this complexity would go out and reach the Giants of the other cities.
I kept urging that messengers should be sent out, to confirm and add to what was being transmitted. How did we know if the strength of the currents was still as it had been? I wanted the fastest possible individuals to be sent to run all the way, if necessary! But I came up against a curious block or barrier in the Giants. They had never had to do things this way! they said.
"Yes, but things are different now." No, they would wait. And I could not make them listen.
Then came news from Canopus that the spacecraft for taking off the Giants would be arriving - with the precise dates and places - near the main cities.
"Jarsum, we must hurry. We can't wait any longer... But he had become obstinate, even suspicious. I saw then that it had begun. The Giants were affected. Already they were not as they had been.
And if they, then very likely I was affected, too... I did have moments of dizziness. Yes, and sometimes I would come to myself after an interval when it was as if my mind had been full of clouds.
I had not expected to have to do this so soon, but I took out the Signature from where it was hidden, and concealed it under my tunic, tied on to my upper arm. My mind cleared then, and I understood that in fact I had been changed without knowing it. I could see that soon I would be the only individual on Shikasta with the power of judgement, of reasoned action.
And yet the Giants did not know of their state and were in control of everything.
I found that the Giants were not influenced equally - some were still sharp-minded and responsible. Alas, Jarsum was not one. He had succumbed almost at once. I did not know what to make of that, nor did I attempt to. I was concerned with practicalities, and kept urging those who would to come into the transmitting chamber where they seemed clearer-minded than they were outside.
It was at a transmitting session that I realised there had been a real and drastic change. The form of the sessions was the same, but there was more restlessness, and moments, too, when it seemed as if everyone there had lost themselves: their eyes would glaze and wander, and they spoke at random. Then, one morning, a Giant suddenly said in a hectoring voice that he, at least, would elect to stay on the planet and not go with the others. He was making a case, as in a debate, and this was so foreign to them all that they were startled back into understanding. My friend Jarsum, for instance, was shocked into himself, and I saw that he was there again, behind those magnificent eyes of his. He did not speak, but sat concentrating all his powers. Another Giant spoke, arguing against the first, but not in favour of going as much as to make a point. The first one shouted that "it was obvious" it would be stupid to leave. Jarsum was fighting, wrestling inwardly, trying to bring that assembly back to what it had been. Another voice was in argument. I could see from the stresses on Jarsum's face, the strain in his eyes, that it was too much ...and suddenly he snapped and his voice was added to the others in a shouting babble of disagreement.
And in that way, literally "from one moment to another," things fell apart on Shikasta. Outside could be heard shouting arguing voices, could be heard children quarrelling, the sounds of dissent, debate. Inside was all excitement and agitation. They leaned forward, trying to catch each other's eyes, gesticulated, interrupted. There were two factions, a group who still tried to hold fast to their inner strength, their faces bewildered, and the ones who had been swept away, led by Jarsum, who was shouting that "they could send all the spacecraft they liked and he wouldn't budge, not he!" - like a child. And then the group that had held out, succumbed.