The poor fellow came out with this in a rush, because of his fear of being checked, looking all the time at me, begging for protection. He stood naked there before us, his features marked with the signs of long imprisonment, but he had a self-respect that was impressive. This “inferior” race was obviously, and at the most cursory inspection, superior to their masters—particularly in the honesty and straightforwardness of their understanding and means of expressing themselves.
He said that at no time had the Lelannians asked the natives about what might be known by them, and which could be used generally, to benefit everyone. Never had the Lelannians been prepared to listen, though the natives had continually tried to offer their knowledge, their expertise… but the Lelannians were not prepared to listen then either—clubs and whips descended; soon the poor fellow was lying senseless in his blood, and the group of technicians who were showing us around showed indignation at the “impertinence” and then went on with the self-satisfied stupidity that was their characteristic, to say that “these animals were always up to their tricks.” I was seething with indignation, not only because of the injustice I had witnessed but because of the waste of it all. I was thinking that never had Sirius—at least, not since our civilised time began—gone into a planet and destroyed the precious knowledge of its inhabitants, the irreplaceable knowledge—for only those have been evolved from the earth and air and liquid of a planet can know its real, its innermost, nature.
But Klorathy stood silent by me. I knew him enough to understand that a tightening of his face showed he was suffering. But he made no sign, only turned to go. And we made our way through the packed masses of naked tribespeople, all beseeching us with their eyes and holding up their palms to us, afraid to speak, but taking this opportunity to make their cause known to those who—they could see—were not Lelannians.
Before we left the place we had to endure a long feast at which we played our parts. The feast was nauseating. The flesh of the natives and other animals was its main feature. The technicians of this place were glad of an excuse for a feast, we could see: they saw themselves as sophisticates banished for long tours of duty in a backwater, and longed to be returned to the capital.
They made speeches every one of which congratulated themselves on their brilliant experimental work. It did not cross their minds to think we might not admire them as they admired themselves.
And next morning we thankfully left.
News about the appearance of the “great ones from over the waters” had preceded us to the capital. We were received with much pomp and ceremonial. Again, the priesthood ruled, but the ruling caste did not consist only of the priestly families, as had been the case in old Grakconkranpatl. The division showed at once as we proceeded between two ranks, on one side the priests in their gorgeous robes and jewellery, flanked and buttressed by the soldiery; and on the other side the privileged families, in colourful clothing and jewels, charming and infantile as such indulged castes always are. No soldiers on their side! No guards, even! And no need of either, for they were the willing captives of the ruling priests. I shall not describe our visit to this capital city any further—there were no experimental stations there. But I shall mention the architecture. When the Lelannian and Grakconkranpatl states mingled, and Lelanos dominated, taking over the priesthood, the blocklike, ominous, Grakconkranpatl style was used for all administrative buildings, prisons, hospitals, and punishment centres. The light, fanciful Lelanos ways were used for housing and places of entertainment. Strange it was to see these extremes so juxtaposed.
We spent some months in the capital. Slowly I saw that Klorathy needed this time to find out whether these brutes were capable of regeneration. The process, for the most part, consisted of listening. Or he probed, lightly and skillfully. Sometimes he made experiments of his own—but so slight and subtle were they that at first I did not notice what he was doing: I to learn to be able to observe what went on. He would test their reactions to this idea or that, by suggestions, or even mild provocation. He would implant a new idea into a group and then wait to see how it would become processed by their particular mentation. I was not equipped to understand how he was reacting to what he found in them. But I was able to see that he was increasingly sombre, and even—it took me some time to be able to admit to myself that the great Canopus was capable of such emotions—discouraged. But there was soon no doubt of it: he was containing a dry and powerful sorrow, and I was able to recognise what I knew myself so very well and so intimately from such long immersion in it.
This stay in the capital is fully dealt with in my old report.
By the time we left, in spite of Klorathy's attempts to prevent us becoming cult objects, focuses of useless awe, that is what we had become. We had to forbid, absolutely, ceremonies in which droves of unfortunate natives were designated as “sacrifices to the Gods.” We insisted, as far as we could, that such practices were regarded at least “over the long blue seas” as unnecessary—it would not do to suggest to these self-satisfied ones that they were barbaric and primitive. When we left we travelled accompanied by priests, who performed their repulsive ceremonies at every opportunity; and by some of the youth, who saw no shame in describing themselves as “playpeople.”
The experimental station we visited next was similar to the other in appearance. The experimental subjects again consisted of the local tribesmen, but they also used some other kinds of animals, notably carnivores. They preferred to use the natives, on the ground that these were nearer to themselves in physical structure. Also that they had done so much work on them that comparisons could more usefully be made.
At this station Klorathy made an attempt to persuade the technicians to ask the natives in a systematic way for information about their medicine. He spoke of places “beyond the waters” where an advanced medicine was used, based on local balances and earth forces, on the rhythms of the stars, on the disposition of exactly placed and planned buildings, and on the use of plants. This “medicine” was more than curative or preventive: health was considered as a result and an expression of the exact sciences, used by a whole society, taught to every individual in the society. Health was being in balance with the natural forces of—the Galaxy. Yes, he went so far. And, yes, I was all ears. For this was what I had wanted to know. He was talking about the Necessity, even if in this guarded and indirect way. That much I did recognise. But as usual I was being disadvantaged by my emotional reactions. How was it that this precious information, the secrets of Canopus, of the Canopean superiority, was being given to these debased Lelannians. How was it, that when I had wanted, and for so long, to hear him talk in this way, it was not I who was addressed… it took me a long time, not until after we separated on this occasion, to see the simple fact that after all he had been speaking to me, since I was there. To Sirius… And he not been talking to the Lelannians, that is, if one was to judge by results: for they could make no use of what they heard. They did not hear. They could not hear. I have never before seen so clearly and simply that law of development that makes a certain stage of growth impossible to an individual, a people, a planet: first, they have to hear. They have to be able to take in what they are being offered.