Sole recalled the stringy, bitch face of Dorothy Summers as she raised a logical quibble some time ago at Haddon during one of their bull sessions there.
He shook his head in bewilderment.
“This idea of getting outside of the reality you’re already part of—it’s illogical,” he protested. “Reality determines how you view things. There’s no such thing as a perfect external observer. Nobody can move outside themselves or conceive of something outside of the scope of the concepts they’re using. We’re all embedded in what you call This-Reality’—”
“It may be illogical in This-Reality. But in para-Reality, other systems of logic apply…”
Harking back, as an anchor, to Dorothy’s preoccupation with Ludwig Wittgenstein, Sole felt tempted to quote the Austrian philosopher’s bleak summing up of how much, and how little, human beings could ever hope to know.
“Whereof we cannot speak, thereof we must keep silent—” he murmured.
“If that’s your philosophy,” the alien said haughtily, “it is not ours.”
“In fact it isn’t our philosophy at all,” Sole rejoined more briskly. “We humans are constantly searching for ways to voice the unvoicable. The sheer desire to discover boundaries already implies the desire to pass beyond them, I suppose.”
The alien shrugged. (His own native gesture? Or was he picking up the gesture speech of human beings already?)
“You cannot hope to explore all the boundaries to reality on one single world, with only one intelligent species working on the problem. That isn’t science. That is… solipsism. I think that’s the word.”
“Yes, that’s the word—defining the universe in terms of one individual.”
As the alien spoke, Sole marvelled at the extent of Ph’theri’s stock of words—wondered exactly how the trick was done. Neural implant of so much information?
“One planet is solipsism. The Sp’thra duty is to avoid solipsism to the nth degree.”
“But we’re all embedded in one universe ultimately, Ph’theri. That’s a sort of solipsism nobody can escape. Or by ‘one reality’ do you mean one galaxy? Are other galaxies other modes of reality? Do you people plan on intergalactic travel?”
An overwhelming impression of a huge wild sorrow came from the alien’s gently-bulging, widespaced eyes. A wise calf waiting outside the slaughterhouse kind of look.
“No. All the galaxies of This-Reality obey the same general laws. We are searching for another reality. We have to achieve it. We are so late.”
Again, this time factor.
“The problem,” Ph’theri said dismally, “is what a two-dimensional being would face, trying to behave three-dimensionally: to the mocking laughter and love-taunts of superior three-dimensional beings—”
It sounded like nonsense or some kind of schizophrenia. Whose mocking laughter? Whose love? Whose taunts?
Sole decided to get back on a more solid footing.
“It all comes down to the laws of physics and chemistry that govern this reality, doesn’t it, Ph’theri? Those decide how much we can ever know—or communicate. How much the brain of Man or Alien can think.”
“True.”
“We ourselves are experimenting with chemical techniques to improve the brain’s capacity. We want to seek out the exact boundaries of universal grammar.”
Several Americans and Russians stared at Sole. He was aware he was giving something confidential away, but didn’t care right then.
“That approach is worthless,” Ph’theri said impatiently. “Chemical techniques? Trial and error? Don’t you realize there are a myriad conceivable ways in which proteins can be combined to code information? More than the sum total of atoms in this planet of yours! The rules of reality can only be understood by superimposing the widest range of languages from different worlds upon one another. There is the one and only key to This-Reality—and the way out.”
Sole nodded.
“Ph’theri, another question I must ask—what you’re saying now, is it being monitored and aided in some way? Your fluency has me worried.”
Ph’theri pointed a finger at the scarlet wires leading from his lips and paper-bag ears into his chest pack.
“True. This is sending signals through the ship outside into the language machines in our larger ship in the sky. It is also a witness to our trade negotiations. With machine-assist, I save time. Vocabulary fast-scan. Heuristic parameters for new words—”
“Yet even without this machine link-up you speak English—by direct programming into the brain, you said?”
“Yes, though not so easily. The technique is…”
“… I know, tradeable. Was I wasting time just now, asking about grammar and reality?”
“No. We are understanding each other at the optimum rate. We thank you. And assess it highly.”
“That’s good. But I suppose you want to get on to what we’re going to trade each other. You talked about buying realities—”
There were instant protests in the room. Voices cutting Sole down to size. Insisting that he didn’t have any mandate to negotiate.
Ph’theri raised both arms high in a histrionic gesture.
“There is low likelihood we find any trade worth losing the tide for, on this world. In too many ways you are predictable. So, is this your representative, or not?”
“Let’s hear Dr Sole bargain on our behalf,” growled Stepanov, “since that is apparently unavoidable. We’re not at the United Nations now. I’m sorry to say we’re in an auction room—and the bidding has already commenced.”
Zwingler nodded sarcastically in Sole’s direction; and Sciavoni squeezed the Englishman’s elbow surreptitiously, like an embarrassed godfather.
“Touchy impatient bastard! Do your best, Chris.”
Yet Sole felt suspicious of loopholes in this alien’s logic and integrity. For bargaining is a competition, not a free exchange of gifts.
“Presumably you want information about human languages?” he said, gently detaching himself from Sciavoni’s grasp.
“Yes. So long as we select the format—”
Sole tried another tack. Laid down a challenge.
“I think you’re being dishonest, Ph’theri. All this business about you people being the right ones to assess values, on account of you came here first—and pushing off if we don’t behave ourselves. In fact, we came out to you to start the trading, when we gave you a language to trade in, out by the Moon. That cost us some effort—as much effort for a culture at our stage, maybe, as it costs you to hop from star to star. We have a right to assess the value too. What you’ve told us—it’s interesting, but it’s pretty thin and mystical-sounding, a lot of it. Not like what we gave you—a complete working language. Which, by the way, tells you a hell of a lot about us human beings and our outlook on reality. I’d say you’re already in our debt—you’re just trying to browbeat us with these threats about leaving, to get something on the cheap!”
For the first time since his arrival, Ph’theri seemed nonplussed—stood there wasting time, while the seconds drew out visibly. Sole noticed how the Nevada skyline was lightening with premonitions of dawn.
Finally Ph’theri clasped his hands together.
“Some credit is owing to you, true. But in some situations no-information is valuable. Who knows, the fact that we have not flown over your cities may be highly assessed by you?”
Sole ignored this, despite venomous looks darted at him, and argued strenuously:
“You can’t possibly trade without an agreed system of communication, Ph’theri. Right? We gave you that when we gave you the key to English. Right? But by giving you it, we gave you the outline idea of all human language as such—since all human languages are related deep down. You want to buy an exact description of human language, to get at our basic set of concepts? I’d say you’re already some way there for free, thanks to us!”