Chapter Twenty-Two

Danchekker gazed for a long time at the two solid images being displayed side by side in a laboratory in Thurien. They were highly magnified reproductions of a pair of organic cells obtained from a species of bottom-dwelling worm from an ocean on one of the Ganymean worlds, and showed the internal structures color-enhanced for easy identification of the nuclei and other components. Eventually he shook his head and looked up. "I’m afraid I am obliged to concede defeat. They both appear identical to me. And you are saying that one of them does not belong to this species at all?" He sounded incredulous.

Shilohin smiled from a short distance behind him. "The one on the left is a single-cell microorganism that contains enzymes programmed to dismantle the DNA of its own nucleus and reassemble the pieces into a copy of the host organism’s DNA," she said. "When that process is complete, the whole structure is rapidly transformed into a duplicate of whatever type of cell the parasite happens to be residing in. From then on the parasite has literally become a part of the host, indistinguishable from the host’s own naturally produced cells and therefore immune to its antibodies and rejection mechanisms. It evolved on a planet subject to intense ultraviolet radiation from a fairly hot, blue star, probably from a cell-repair mechanism that stabilized the species against extreme mutation. As far as we know it’s a unique adaptation. I thought you’d be interested in seeing it."

"Extraordinary," Danchekker murmured. He walked across to the device of gleaming metal and glass from which the data to generate the image originated, and stooped to peer into the tiny chamber containing the tissue sample. "I would be most interested in conducting some experiments of my own on this organism when I get back. Er. . . . do you think the Thuriens might let me take a sample of it?"

Shulohin laughed. "I’m sure you’d be welcome to, Professor, but how do you propose carrying it back to Houston? You’re forgetting that you’re not really here."

"Tch! Stupid of me." Danchekker shook his head and stepped back to gaze at the apparatus around them, the function of most of which he still failed to comprehend. "So much to learn," he murmured half to himself. "So much to learn. . ." He thought for a while, and his expression changed to a frown. Eventually he turned to face Shilohin again. "There’s something about this whole Thurien civilization that has been puzzling me. I wonder if you can help."

"I’ll try. What’s the problem?"

Danchekker sighed. "Well. . . . I don’t know. . . . after twenty-five million years, it should be even more advanced than it is, I would have thought. It is far ahead of Earth, to be sure, but I can’t see Earth requiring anywhere near that amount of time to reach a level comparable to Thurien’s today. It seems . . . strange."

"The same thought occurred to me," Shilohin said. "I talked to Eesyan about it."

"Did he offer a reason?"

"Yes." Shilohin paused for a long time while Danchekker looked at her curiously. Then she said, "The civilization of Thurien came to a halt for a very long time. Paradoxically it was as a result of its advanced sciences."

Danchekker blinked uncertainly through his spectacles. "How could that be?"

"You have studied Ganymean genetic-engineering techniques extensively," Shilohin replied. "After the migration to Thurien, they were taken even further."

"I’m not sure I see the connection."

"The Thuriens perfected a capability that they had been dreaming of for generations-the ability to program their own genes to offset the effects of bodily aging and wasting. . . indefinitely."

A moment or two went by before Danchekker grasped what she was saying. Then he gasped. "Do you mean immortality?"

"Exactly. For a long time it seemed that Utopia had been achieved. "

"Seemed?"

"Not all the consequences were foreseen. After a while all their progress, their innovation, and their creativity ceased. The Thuriens became too wise and knew too much. In particular they knew all the reasons why things were impossible and why nothing more could be achieved."

"You mean they ceased to dream." Danchekker shook his head sadly. "How unfortunate. Everything that we take for granted began with somebody dreaming of something that couldn’t be done."

Shilohin nodded. "And in the past it had always been the younger generations, too naive and inexperienced to recognize the impossible when they saw it, who had been foolish enough to make the attempt. It was surprising how often they succeeded. But now, of course, there were no more younger generations."

Danchekker was nodding slowly as he listened. "They turned into a society of mental geriatrics."

"Exactly. And when they realized what was happening, they went back to the old ways. But their civilization had stagnated for a very long time, and as a result most of their spectacular breakthroughs have occurred only comparatively recently. The instant-transfer technology was developed barely in time for them to be able to intervene at the end of the Lunarian war. And things like the h-space power-distribution grid, direct neural coupling into machines, and, eventually, VISAR came much later."

"I can imagine the problem," Danchekker murmured absently. "People complain that life is too short for the things they want to do, but without that restriction perhaps they would never do anything. The pressure of finite time is surely the greatest motivator. I’ve often suspected that if the dream of immortality were ever realized, the outcome would be something like that."

"Well, if the Thuriens’ experience was anything to go by, you were right," Shilohin told him.

They talked about the Thuriens for a while longer, and then Shilohin had to return to the Shapieron for a meeting with Garuth and Monchar. Danchekker remained in the laboratory to observe some more examples of Thurien biological science presented by VISAR. After spending some time at this he decided he would like to discuss some of what he had seen with Hunt while the details were fresh in his mind, and asked VISAR if Hunt was currently coupled into the system.

"No, he’s not," VISAR informed him. "He boarded a plane that took off from McClusky about fifteen minutes ago. If you want, I could put you through to the control room there."

"Oh, er. . . . yes, if you would," Danchekker said.

An image of a communications screen appeared in midair a couple of feet in front of Danchekker’s face, framing the features of the duty controller at McClusky. "Hello, Professor," the controller acknowledged. "What can I do for you?"

"VISAR just told me that Vic has left for somewhere," Danchekker replied. "I wondered what was happening."

"He left a message for you saying he’s gone to Houston for the morning. It doesn’t go into any details, though."

"Is that Chris Danchekker? Let me talk to him." Karen Heller’s voice sounded distantly from somewhere in the background. A few seconds later the controller moved off one side of the screen, and she came into view. "Hello, Professor. Vic got fed up waiting for Lyn to get back from Washington with some news, so he called Houston. Gregg is back there, but Lyn isn’t. Vic’s gone to find out what’s going on. That’s really about all I can tell you."

"Oh, I see," Danchekker said. "How strange."

"There was something else that I wanted to talk to you about," Heller went on. "I’ve been doing a lot of looking into some parts of Lunarian history with Calazar and Showm, and it’s becoming rather interesting. We’ve some questions I’d like your answers to. How soon do you think you’ll be back?"

Danchekker muttered under his breath and looked wistfully around the Ganymean laboratory, then realized that he was getting signals through VISAR that his body was getting hungry again. "Actually I’ll be coming back now," he replied. "Perhaps I could talk to you in the canteen, ten minutes from now, say?"