But they had gone further, used any living being they ruled, on any level, as the stuff for experiments of a most brutal nature. No, although I did have my uncomfortable moments listening to Klorathy describe the practices of these overlords, I could to myself that never had we, had Sirius, done unnecessary, or cruel experiments. Of course, experimentation of the physical, as distinct from the biosociological kind, is necessary and so permitted. But after all, it is always done, with us, within the limits of our necessity, even if this is sometimes only a local need… so I fatuously argued with myself as I sat listening to Klorathy, during these conversations that I was already seeing as a preparation. A deliberate, calculated preparation for what was to come. Oh, Canopus never did, never has done, anything that has not been calculated, foreseen, measured, and this down to the last detail, even when the plan is such a long-term one that… I have to state here again that we—meaning Sirius, and I say this knowing the criticism I risk—are not able to comprehend the Canopean understanding of what may be long term, or long foreseen. Yes, I am saying this. I am stating it. I am insisting on it… If I may not do this, then my attempt in writing this record, or report, is without use.
This small example, which I am describing here, consisting of Klorathy’s use of the situation in this continent at this time to instruct me, Sirius, contains many aspects of Canopean planning, foresight, patience. Even as I dwelt there, in that old Sirian station, day after day with Klorathy, I knew that he had calculated that I would need this period for adjustment, for the absorption of what he was presenting to me.
When I knew he wanted me to accompany him on a long and certainly dangerous journey to see for myself what he was describing, I resisted. Not because of the danger. I was acquiring very different attitudes to my own extinction! Once I would have regarded “death,” of the kind now obsolete among us, as a calamity, certainly as a loss to our community because of my vast experience. Now I was thinking that if I was worth a survival of physical extinction, then what there was in me to survive, would—must. And I was thinking, too, that if we were caught and killed by these truly horrible animals, the Lelannians, I would be in the company of Canopus, who regarded “death” as a change of circumstance.
No, I was resisting because of my old lack, or disability: I not being given what I felt I was due! In the past I had sulked, or allowed myself to become impervious to what I might be learning, because Klorathy’s attention was not being given to me alone. Now, when it was being given to me alone, or rather, to me as Sirius, I still felt neglected, insufficiently appreciated, because it was only a journey among these savage Rohandans that was being offered. I would have been prepared to stay in the little station in the foothills, overlooking the long reaches of simmering rain forest, listening to what Klorathy had to tell me—even though he talked of Lelanos and Lelannians, and their habits, and not ever of Canopus itself, which I longed so much to hear about—taking in what I knew was an education of a sort far larger than I was then equipped to understand. When Klorathy spoke, his words came from Canopus, were of the substance of Canopus—that I did know. But he was putting a term to this experience of ours, which on one level was so easygoing, even lazy, and demanding that we should go forth, into something else.
There were various ways we might travel. One was to summon my Space Traveller, and to descend, the two of us, as representatives of Sirius—they would not know Canopus, the real and true power!—and demand to see what we wanted. Or we could pretend to be from another part of Rohanda, “from across the seas.” Or we could announce ourselves as from the Northern Continent, and the fact that the isthmus was closed would add to our—we hoped—mysteriousness. It was not possible to purport to come from another city in the Lelannian system, for it was monolithic and all-pervasive and knew everything that went on everywhere.
The problem was my appearance: I at least could not hope to remain unremarked.
The alternatives were put to me by Klorathy, in his way of leaving me free, so that I had to consider them, and then offer my choice to him for his acceptance. I chose descent by Space Traveller, the easiest. He did not at once disagree, but kept hesitating, as he made suggestions, or the beginnings of suggestions, for me to take up trains of thought for myself. I soon saw that to appear, suddenly, “from the skies,” and after such a long time during which the Sirian surveillance had been forgotten, would be to disrupt the social system totally, and in ways that ought to be calculated, weighed, planned for—in the Canopean manner. Planned for when the subjects of this consideration were such an unpleasant kind?
Yes, indeed. I had to accept it. What I was being given was a lesson in Canopean viewpoints—very far from ours.
No, we were not to use the easy way. In the end it was decided to be visitors from “over the seas.” Prompted by him, I brought forth from within myself the advantages—and they were all inside a Canopean scope of time. The main one, from which the others flowed, was that even these tyrants would be open to information or instruction from “over the seas,” for their legends kept references to such beings. Not by chance: some visiting Canopean had no doubt made sure that their legends would contain such memories.
This journey of ours through the Southern Continent was a long one, and there were many aspects to it that unfolded themselves as we went, that sometimes became clear to me only later. Are still, in fact, showing new facets, when I contemplate that time. I submitted a full report on this journey, which is still available. There is nothing untrue, or even evasive there: on that I must insist. But I must urge, too, that it is possible, and indeed often inevitable, that one may report events as fully and honestly as one knows how—and yet find oneself up against a check, beyond which one may in no way pass. This barrier is the nature or state of those for whom the report is made. Their state at that time. Preparing this report, one’s mind on those who will receive it—the words are chosen for you, the frequencies limited. As one’s mind goes out to touch, or assess, those who will take it in, one knows that only so much of it can be taken in. But that later, perhaps, much more will be found. I wonder if those of my fellow Sirians who have read so far—and, as I have already said, I can guess only too well the nature of some of their emotions—might care to look up that old report of the journey. I feel that both those who saw it all those ages ago, and those who read it now, for the first time, may find there a great deal that can amplify this present account of mine.