A common trope in horror movids is transformation into some nightmarish creature, a foul denizen of the underworld which rips forth from human flesh. To evoke a similar reaction in the Cu’endhari, one need only mention “cedar-apple rust fungus.” This bizarre and repugnant blight is surprisingly indigenous to Earth. The fungus produces galls on certain conifers which, in wet weather, elongate into gelatinous, wormy masses. These protrusions or horns produce spores which then infect nearby apple trees, causing their leaves to bleed orange liquid and sprout tufts of tubular projections. The fungus is unique in its complex life cycle, alternating between conifers and deciduous trees, devastating both forests and commercial orchards. It is so destructive that genetically modified Gymnosporangium is incorporated into fast-terraforming regimes; on Skarsia, it was used to intentionally obliterate the native tree population, including the ancestors of the Arya and Common nau’gsh. Despite the fact that Prunus varieties, such as the Cu’endhari nau’gsh, are unaffected by Gymnosporangium, the subject is never mentioned in polite company.
Rust fungus on cedar branches and apple leaf, sketch by Taliesin St. John, 3623.
We were shaken from our rest by the sound of a loud voice. “HEY HEY!”
“Ugh, Marty,” Tara moaned. “What time is it?”
“Thought you’d want to know – we found Puce.”
“That’s great,” Lucius said, sitting up stiffly. “Where is he?”
“Heading towards the Ipsissimal Park. With a swarm of around a thousand Cu’ensali.”
As Lucius pulled himself out of bed, Lord Danak and Captain Zosim arrived with the same news. “Should we interpret this as hostile?” asked Danak. “They might be trying to communicate.”
“We can’t take that risk,” said Zosim. “And if they wanted to talk, why not come to the palace for an audience?”
Lucius ran to the window and leaped out, spreading his arms until the mothman unfolded. “It must be so cool to be able to do that,” he heard Zosim say.
Normally, we’d agree. Free flight is exhilarating. But today, the mothman felt the drag of every spore he flew past. Despite the proximity of the Atlas Tree, Lucius’s endeavor of the day previous was still taking its toll.
Sleep must be such a luxury.
He soared swiftly down the shoreline until we reached Starbright Point. Below Him, the human protestors gaped and pointed. Many of them fell to their knees, taking the appearance of their god as an auspicious sign.
“Look! He does have legs!” one of them yelled.
We had no time to worry about public image. I and I landed in the garden surrounding the Atlas Tree. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. My immediate sense of exhaustion meant that we were not going to be able to swap emanations again in the near future. For reasons unknown to me, I had been chosen to handle the situation.
The Cu’ensali swarm was approaching rapidly. Individually, they weren’t dangerous: several dozen were the equivalent of a small Cu’enashti. But I wasn’t a small Cu’enashti. I was the Archon of Skarsia. It was my duty to regulate the source of energy for an entire star system. And I was standing next to Atlas, my power hub. I should’ve had enough raw power to fell the swarm like flies hitting a cloud of pesticide.
What I did have was a throbbing headache, making concentration difficult. If it had ever entered our minds to use the SongLuminants’ talent for body snatching with impunity, we were greatly reconsidering.
The park reverberated with the sound of human screams; some were panicked, others merely surprised. The human protestors had just noticed the approaching swarm. It was unlikely that they were in any real danger. To animal life, the Cu’ensali were no more dangerous than wasps; a swarm that large could do serious damage to perhaps a dozen people, but then it would be spent. I was certain that the Cu’ensali had come here to confront us, and wouldn’t waste time and energy bothering humans, with whom they had no real interest anyway.
The cloud neared. Then I noticed one particle flying faster than the rest, heading straight for me. It was the leader of the swarm.
« We’ve got another problem, » said Lens. « I can see a second swarm of fireflies approaching from the east. I’d guess at least three thousand. »
Reinforcements. My heart sank into its roots. How could we possibly fight that many, especially in the state that we were in?
« We can’t fight, » said Patrick. « We have to negotiate. »
Negotiate. Why wasn’t Patrick chosen for that task? I could console; I could intimidate – more through my innate dignity than any sense of physical threat, like Cillian. But there was one skill that did not come to me easily, as Tara would attest: compromise.
I addressed the leader, who had flown up in front of me. “We mean you no harm. We’re working on a solution right now to prevent any further Cu’ensali from being drawn unwittingly into this universe.”
The tiny sprite approached until he was directly in my face. “Moron,” he said.
For emphasis, he kicked me in the side of the nose.
There was another series of screams and yelps. The second, larger, Cu’ensali horde had hit the perimeter of the park. I braced myself for an attack from behind, but tried not be too obvious about it. I didn’t want to convey an overt sense of hostility to the swarm I was confronting.
« The little fuck kicked you, » said Cillian. « I think it’s time to convey a sense of hostility. »
“We plan to destroy any trees requested by the Cu’ensali occupants,” I continued. “I have to admit that we don’t like it. A lot of those humans down there, as well as a significant number of our people, are horrified by the idea of destroying trees. But we respect your right to self-determination.”
“Thrice-cursed imbecile,” said the sprite in front of me, tugging rudely at my beard.
“Um, if I might interrupt this sparkling exchange of wit,” said a tiny voice behind me, “I could explain why your plan isn’t going to work.”
Well, that wasn’t good news, but at least we were communicating. “I’m listening,” I said.
“Listen to this,” said the first, stomping on the top of my skull. “Die. Die. Die.”
“That’s Puce,” said the second. “I’m Mauve. We’re what passes for leaders amongst our people.”
I tensed immediately. Mauve was responsible, perhaps inadvertently, for my previous trauma. But Mauve didn’t seem hostile. Puce, on the other hand, seemed hostile – but ridiculous. It was amazing how much havoc he had managed to cause.
“The reason your solution won’t work is that the trees are the – pardon my play on words – root of the problem. In the nul-universe, the existence of energy is rare. It tends to stabilize by converting to matter. But when the Flaxxshi planted their orchard on Dolparessa, nau’gsh roots grew into the nul-universe. Roots are designed to break apart soil to extract nutrients. The nau’gsh were engineered to consume nul-energy as a sort of nutrient. Their roots developed the ability to break down the matter in the nul-universe to release more nul-energy.”
This made sense, given Cüinn’s earlier statement that Cu’enashti roots aggregate pos-matter. Pos-matter violently destroys nul-matter, liberating nul-energy. Pos-matter also amplifies and focuses nul-energy, which is why we use it for the power grid crystals.
“Occasionally, that energy eventually gains sufficient density to achieve sentience,” Mauve continued. “In the nul-universe, this is an unusual occurrence. But the trees are creating artificial conditions conducive to it. They are creating more of us.”
Well, that was a problem we hadn’t anticipated.
« If the already-established Cu’enashti are creating more nul-entities in their vicinity, » said Tarlach, « that could explain the success of family groves. »
« It’s a complete reproductive cycle, » said Malachi. « Not only do the trees drop their seeds, they also participate in the creation of symbiotic partners for their children. »
Unfortunately, not everyone was so enthusiastic about the miracle of life. “Destroy all trees!” screamed Puce, pumping his stubby fists into the air.
“Unfortunately, Puce’s rather simplistic solution is also absolutely useless. It will reduce the further production of nul-entities, but for the ones who currently exist, it will make things much worse.”
I nodded. “The Cu’enashti are desperate to have a route into this universe. And from what I’d gathered from the Cu’enmerengi, most of them want to be here as well.”
Mauve stared at me for a few seconds. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said.
“Oh,” I replied. “Well, then I’m really not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Ashtara, from what I’ve seen, you mean well. You really want to help us. It isn’t your fault that you’re a fecking ignoramus.”
Apparently, Puce was not in agreement. “Eat destruction, you oozing bag of snot-spit-semen-digestive waste!” he yelped, swooping at my head.
“Although it is your fault that the problem has grown another order of magnitude,” Mauve continued. “That’s why I was hoping to convince you to stop.”
“The groves at Shambhala and Nightside,” I replied. “To my people, they’re salvation, but to yours, they must seem like an affront.”
“Stooooooooooooooopid!” shrieked Puce.
“I’m afraid that Puce is right. You’re showing a remarkable lack of understanding. Given your reputation for incisive action, I’m beginning to come to the regretful conclusion that you’re feigning ignorance, perhaps out of guilt over the heinous nature of your crimes. Or perhaps, depressingly, you’re just toying with us. You want to say that you tried to negotiate in order to justify our destruction to the Convocation of the Forest.”
« Ailann, maybe he’s right. Maybe you should just kill them, » said Cillian.
« That’s not the kind of decision that I can make, » I replied. « And if it were the right decision, I and I would’ve emanated you. »
« That’s an astute observation, » said Dermot. « Ailann, keep them talking. »
“I honestly don’t know what you mean. We’ve been doing our best to put this puzzle together since the beginning. You do realize that I interpreted your sequestering of me in that nul-chamber as a completely hostile act?”
Mauve’s restless flight slowed, and he seemed to dip a little before recovering himself. “We thought it would help.”
“Mauve, if there’s anything I know, it’s that communication between different species is extraordinarily difficult. I’m coming to the conclusion that the situation is worse between our peoples because on the surface we seem to be similar. We’ve seen in the past few days just how different our desires and reactions really…ow!”
Puce had tired of swiping at my head, deciding to bite my earlobe instead.
« I’ve about had it with that tomatofucker, » said Cillian. « Nobody bites your ear except me. And maybe Tara. »
“Please tell me just what is it that I’m supposed to have done to upset you.”
Mauve sighed. At least I think it was a sigh; it sounded like the revving of a tiny engine. “It’s time to talk about the birds and the bees and the flowers and the nau’gsh,” he said. “Now as we all know, birds, bees and flowers originate in a process called cellular division, or mitosis.”
“Who cares?” squeaked Puce.
“They grow on their own initiative,” Mauve continued, “although they do need nutrient elements. On the other hand, this is not how stars are formed.”
I nodded patiently although I didn’t see the least relevance to our situation.
“Nau’gsh trees form just like trees. Nul-beings, on the other hand, form like stars. Gravitational attraction – or, in our case, pseudo-gravitational attraction, pulls particles together until one clump of energy is large enough to sweep up everything in its path.”
“That’s what we’ve surmised,” I agreed.
“During the early history of a solar system, planetoids formulate from a glowing disc of gasses. Gravitational forces rip many of them apart. They form and re-form, the parts merging with larger planets, or with the star itself.”
“Yes…”
“You propose a solution to prevent Cu’ensali from being sucked up into the roots of the nau’gsh. But we get sucked up because we’re small. If we aren’t being sucked up into the trees, then we’ll face an even worse fate – being sucked into other nul-beings.”
“I don’t follow,” I said. “Are you saying that Cu’enmerengi and Cu’enashti were originally Cu’ensali? And if so, why would that be so bad? At that point, we didn’t even have consciousness. It’s the point of emanation where suffering and joy begins.”
“Some of us have consciousness. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about your sicko vampire grove.”
Puce was beginning to scream something shrilly as he dive-bombed towards my eyes. I’d had enough; I swatted him harder than I intended, and he went sailing into his troops, sending several dozen scattering backwards in a shower of pink sparkles.
“What are you saying?”
“Nul-beings form like stars. But you aren’t a star anymore, you’re a supermassive black hole. You don’t just suck up dust and rocks, or even planets. You suck up other stars.”
“If I understand what you’re accusing me of… it’s not true, so you’re either mistaken or lying. I can’t imagine how you could possibly know the mechanism for I and I’s formation.”
“First, it’s an obvious deduction. Why do Cu’enashti have so many personalities when Cu’ensali have only one? It’s because they’ve swallowed other nul-beings. But if you had been paying attention to the important things, like the flux of your own energy, instead of exchanging bodily fluids with that Terran transplant, you would’ve seen what was absolutely clear to us upon observation: the ones you call Chase, Driscoll, Daniel and Aran are Cu’ensali. Also, it probably doesn’t matter much, but Evan, Ross and Dermot are Cu’enmerengi.”
« That’s a lie! » Aran screamed.
“And we’ll all be doomed to that fate,” Mauve continued, “if we’re unable to escape to this universe, hiding in the relative peace and safety of nul-containers.”
“Vomit-colored imbecile!” screamed Puce, now swooping at Mauve. “We will not be boxed!”
Suddenly, the Cu’ensali sparked into action. But they didn’t attack me – they attacked each other. I took a quick step out of their way, trying to comprehend what I’d just heard. Could there be a shred of truth in Mauve’s accusations? And if there was, would it matter anyway? Cu’enashti are happy. Any nul-beings swept up into one will share in the joy of loving our Chosen and the fellowship of the branches.
« I’ve heard that kind of reasoning before, » said Lorcan. « From the Denolin Turym. »
« That’s fucked up, » roared Cillian, jumping from the couch. « Dammit, Lorcs, I thought the days when I had to punch your lights out were over. »
« It’s also inaccurate, » said Dermot. « I and I is one unified entity. Our pleroma is very different from the Denolin consciousness. »
« Can I point out the inherent contradiction in calling I and I a unified entity? » asked Lorcan. « One mothman, five trees, fifty emanations…»
« I find it hard to believe that I was ever a Cu’enmerengi, » said Dermot.
« Weren’t you the one who challenged God? » shot back Ethan. « And wasn’t Ross…»
« Shut the fuck up about Ross! » shouted Constantine.
« Can we just deal with the situation now? » asked Mickey. « It looks like Mauve’s people will cooperate, but Puce is likely to keep attacking trees. That makes our course clear – we have to get rid of Puce. »
« Yeah, but I can’t tell who’s on what side, » said Constantine. « Cu’ensali all look alike to me. »
« Puce is the puce one, » said Driscoll dryly.
I tried to get my bearings, but it was impossible. The fighting between the Cu’ensali raged, with pink pinpricks of light flying everywhere. Mauve had the advantage of numbers, but Puce’s followers were more desperate, more vicious. The buzzing swelled into a roar as tiny bodies smacked into the foliage. Unfortunately, the organic nature of the tree meant that the nul-energy forms of the Cu’ensali were making contact, and we were starting to take damage. Our leaves were riddled with holes and scratches as though we’d been attacked by hungry pillarcatters.
I felt like I really needed a drink. Then I reconsidered. What I needed was not numbness – just a moment of peace to gather my thoughts.
I pushed past my throbbing headache, feeling the energy coursing through the roots of the tree. I felt it rising as a great wind being shaken out from the leaves. Distantly, I heard the humans yelling again as some were knocked off their feet by the sudden force of the gale. The Cu’ensali, smaller, aloft, were blown out to sea like so much pink sparkle-dust.
« Nice one, » said Cillian.
« Except that we’ve lost Mauve, » said Briscoe, « and for that matter, Puce. »
My attention was drawn to a warm glow in the distance, a glow in the shape of a hovercar. It was Tara, accompanied by Lord Danak and Captain Zosim.
I met them in the parking area, where we were soon surrounded by shocked and gawking humans. I climbed into the car and signaled to drive off before we could be further detained. “I need to talk to the Cantor,” I said.
*****
I met with the Cantor at Turquoise Head. It had been my idea. I didn’t much like the plan we’d devised, and I thought perhaps making the proposal in sight of the maimed Cantor Tree would strengthen my resolve.
I was unprepared for what I saw. The second branch was back in exactly the same place, but pitch black, as though it were made of charcoal. I felt a moment’s revulsion; then I recalled my reaction to my first sight of Cillian’s dark and twisted branch.
Cillian, I almost killed you. Do you think I will ever forgive myself for that?
The Cantor’s reaction was rather more expected. “You want our help?” she said incredulously.
“I don’t believe that Puce can be reasoned with,” I said. “And I do believe that he wants to return to the nul-universe. However, he’d prefer to wipe all of us out first, which means we’re obviously at cross-purposes.”
“And you think the MPP can find them?”
I nodded. “Cu’ensali who register will have trees equipped with nul-boxes. They’re off limits. And it’s to our advantage to avoid killing the young trees. So it’s up to the MPP to track down the Cu’ensali responsible for the attacks and destroy their trees.”
“Of course, the one enormous disadvantage of your plan is that it puts us in the position of waiting to be attacked.”
“I know that. I just can’t think of anything better. We have to protect ourselves, and I can’t stomach killing trees at random.”
The Cantor was still for a moment. “A month ago, I couldn’t have imagined it. But now it isn’t just that it’s happened. It’s that I and I participated. Ailann, I never imagined She was capable of such violence.” The Cantor looked away from me; her eyes fixed on the blackened branch. There was a quiver, a momentary hesitation in her stance, her voice, an uncertainty which I had never before seen in her. “You know, when I saw it I thought…that it might be better to…”
I grasped her gently by the shoulders, looking her directly in the eye. “That’s the one thing you must never even contemplate.”
She nodded, then smiled sadly, resolutely. “I don’t think I could stand to be alone anymore. And if I did such violence to myself, the next branch would be even worse.”
“It will get better. Cillian is my lover.” I hadn’t expected to share that with her, but somehow I thought she’d understand.
She didn’t. “Is there any problem you won’t try to resolve with sex?”
“I tried alcohol,” I said. “Sex is much better.”
*****
The Cantor agreed to enlist the help of the MPP. I was surprised at how little resistance she put up. Something in her had broken, crushed by grief.
We had our own problems. I wanted to forget what Mauve had said, dismiss it as irrelevant. Why did it matter what had happened in the past? The future was more important.
« I agree totally, » said Whirljack. « Nothing matters but Tara’s destiny. »
« You’re saying the end justifies the means, » said Seth. « I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. The end is the product of the means, and tainted means produce a tainted end. »
« It’s not just about ethics, » said Cüinn. « What Mauve said has practical implications. If every branch can trace its origin back to one Cu’ensali, nul-being, whatever, then each Cu’enashti nau’gsh should have a predetermined number of emanations. »
« That seems to be the case, » Dermot replied. « Atlas hasn’t emanated in years, and I always had the very strong sense that I was the last. »
« That’s why we had to make Goliath, » said Davy. « In case we needed more. Which we did. »
« If so, what happens when other Cu’enashti run out of emanations, and they take damage? » asked Lugh.
« Possibly nothing, » said Tarlach. « Cu’enmerengi don’t need to emanate other personalities in response to trauma. Perhaps the damage is simply a trigger allowing for the release of a submerged persona. »
« Or maybe they just suck up another nul-being through their roots, » said Lorcan.
« Oh, come on, » said Tommy. « There’s no proof of that. It’s Cu’ensali propaganda, and you’re just trying to freak us out. »
Suibhne started to giggle.
« All of this rests on a fragile assumption anyway, » said Seth. « That assumption is that the Cu’ensali is the smallest unit of nul-consciousness possible. But that’s doubtful. The Twist developed consciousness with a single particle. The Cu’ensali accused us of being cannibals that gulped up other energy-beings, but it’s likely that the same thing was true of them. »
« Seth, why is it you always make my head hurt? » asked Cillian.
« We’re constantly using nul-energy in an undifferentiated form, » said Owen. « So there must be a threshold where some form of coherence is reached and a nul-being is formed. »
« In order to define a discreet unit of consciousness, we have to define consciousness, » added Seth. « By consciousness I mean, of course, a sense of continuous self-aware sentience, the sense of identity that far exceeds the ability of the claustrum to turn mere awareness on and off. And the nul-beings are proto-consciousness, which means we have to define that as well. »
« True, » said Dermot. There was a moment of silence.
« And? » said Dermot.
« It would take some study of ontology before I could come up with an adequate speculation, » said Seth.
« This is not a theoretical question! » Briscoe exclaimed. « The nul-universe is absolute hell. If Mauve is right, then the Cu’enashti need to gather up all the nul-beings, to save them. Only when they become like us will they know true happiness. »
« That’s crazy talk, » said Balin. « Every branch has to find its own way to the light. We can’t force anyone. All we can do is live as an example. »
« We can offer help to those who want it, » I added, joining the conversation. « I haven’t given up on the idea of multiple colonies to help Cu’enashti access this universe. »
« This universe, » said Darius. « I wasn’t always here. Were you? »
« Only Daniel was always here, » said Mickey, « if by always, you mean from the beginning. »
Darius shook his head. « I don’t mean unemanated. I mean here. With you. »
« Of course you were, » said Tarlach. « How could you have been anywhere else? »
« Are you admitting that you’re a Cu’ensali? » asked Ethan. « You look a little pink to me. »
« Don’t pick on my brother, » said Lorcan.
« Wow, that’s something I never thought I’d see, » said Constantine. « Lorcan’s all right. »
Listen to Darius, said Jamey. I think he’s correct. It was different before Ailann became Archon. I remember it was.
« Wait a minute, » snarled Cillian. « Are you saying that I and I absorbed nul-beings after Atlas had grown? After the tree had already achieved sentience? »
« I think that was what Mauve was implying today, » said Dermot. « But I don’t see how it could happen without us being aware of it. »
« Neither do I, » agreed Lucius. « There’s a distinctive sensation when two different intelligences are inhabiting the same brain. »
« But there would be no such division, » said Malachi. « We’re talking about the Mover merging other entities into Himself. »
« I hate to say this, but it kind of makes sense, » said Mickey. « Why was Dermot so sure that he was the last branch? Maybe the Goliath emanations came later. »
« Yeah, but how is it in our best interests to gobble up any stray proto-consciousness that comes along? » asked Cillian. « I’d think that I and I would fight it. »
« It would certainly compromise our n’aashet n’aaverti, » said Whirljack. « But that hasn’t happened. Look at Ari, Aran, Rand. There are exemplary branches in the trees following Atlas. »
« But go back to solid facts, back to what we know for sure about our origins, » said Malachi. « We have the sense that Atlas chose a partner as much as a nul-entity sought out Atlas. Maybe it wasn’t indiscriminate. Maybe the Mover chose His new partners as well. »
« There’s one obvious point you’re all missing, » said Mickey. « All the Goliath emanations appeared at once. It doesn’t fit with the absorbing Cu’ensali hypothesis. »
« Mauve said that we were a supermassive black hole, » said Solomon. « Is it possible that we sucked up another Cu’enashti? »
« Think it through, » said Owen. « Mauve implied that Cu’enashti are made of individual consciousnesses, including Cu’ensali and Cu’enmerengi. If Goliath were a Cu’enashti, it wouldn’t have been an ordinary one. It had twenty-five component units. That’s enormous. I could maybe imagine accidentally sucking up a Cu’ensali, but that’s like fitting a whale through a drainpipe. »
« Under normal conditions, » said Cüinn. « But whenever we restart the Aeon, there’s a massive surge of nul-energy. Ailann’s trunk grew into the tallest tree on Dolparessa in a matter of minutes. And when that happens, we’re really preoccupied. What if, when we weren’t paying attention…»
« Don’t say it, » said Evan. « My roots just went cold. »
There was a moment of silence as we considered the possibility. Then, with trembling voice, Dermot said, « There was more than one reason why we had to create Goliath, wasn’t there, Davy? »
Davy had said nothing until now. Now the others turned to him; his expression was neither shocked nor worried, but annoyed. « I thought that was obvious, » he replied crossly.
Dermot hit him.
Dermot, who had never initiated a violent act in his life, hit Davy.
« Ow, » said Davy.
« No, » moaned Dermot, hyperventilating, on the verge of hysteria.
« It doesn’t change anything, » I insisted. « We’ve all gotten along perfectly well believing we had the same origin. Even if we came from separate nul-entities, we’re all part of I and I now. All of this speculation – and it is speculation – is just serving to turn us against ourselves. »
« That could have easily been Mauve’s intent, » said Cillian.
« I agree, » said Malachi. « Let’s say worst case scenario – it’s true. We’re talking about proto-conscious entities. We might as well start interrogating the nitrogen in the soil as to whether it wants to be incorporated into the grove. »
« You don’t understand, » Dermot wailed. « Tara loves us. Tara loves I and I! »
« And you don’t want to include anyone new? Are you becoming a jealous god at this late date? » asked Ari, somewhat amused.
« It’s not about that. Tara has sworn that she loves I and I for everything that He is. But what happens if He changes? »
The question stopped us short. As usual, Dermot had been thinking one step ahead of us. I could tangibly feel a shudder of electro-chemical angst ripple through our sap.
« Calm down, » said Tarlach. « Remember when Molly showed Tara our true nature telepathically? That was a long time after Ailann became Archon. If there’s anything to this speculation, then the vision she saw included the non-Atlas emanations, and she’s fine with it. »
« We’ve restarted the Aeon five times, » said Cüinn. « Once for each Archon except Suibhne, but also once that time after the coup, when Tara and Chase had to reconnect Atlas to the grid. Only Ailann and Chase were before Molly showed Tara the vision. »
« Cüinn, I really think it’s time for you to shut the fuck up, » said Cillian.
« No, wait, » said Malachi. « The Mover also showed himself to Tara recently when he burned the message into the piano. That was after both Aran and Balin became Archons, so there would have been no more chances for absorbing new entities. In fact, it was after Canopus grew, so I’m pretty sure that she’s seen the most recent pleroma, and she’s okay with it. »
« Then it’s all right, » said Dermot, sinking weakly into his chair. « We just have to make certain that it never happens again. »
« As long as we don’t make another Archon, we shouldn’t have this problem, right? » asked Owen. « Canopus was supposed to be the last tree, and there isn’t a real need for it to have its own Archon. It lacks the direct root connection to the nul-universe, and it’s small, two reasons why it could never function very effectively as one. »
« Okay, » said Tarlach. « Problem solved. Everybody breathe. »
« Well, Owen is right that it would probably take a massive power surge in order to entrap another proto-Cu’enashti, » said Cüinn, « but something small, like a lone Cu’ensali, might be absorbed at any time. »
Cillian decked him.
« You’re all missing the most important point, » said Rand. « We have to tell Tara about this. »
« Are you nuts? » asked Cillian. « First, we have no proof. It’s just all a half-baked theory of Cüinn’s based on some remarks made by our enemies, who have no business knowing in the first place. Why should we risk upsetting her over some obviously biased hearsay? »
« Tara is the galaxy’s greatest expert on the nau’gsh, » said Solomon. « Besides the fact that hiding things from her always makes it worse in the end, she’s the one person we really can confide in, the one who might be able to help us find out the truth. »
« Does it really matter? » asked Daniel. « As long as it won’t impact the future, we should leave well enough alone. »
« It does impact the future, » Solomon replied. « The less we know about ourself, the more vulnerable we are to attack, as recent events have proven plainly. »
« We need to have some way of figuring out the truth, » said Cüinn. « We need to design an experiment. »
« You’ve got to be joking! » Cillian snapped.
*****
At that moment, Tara came into the bedroom. She came directly to me, laying her head on my shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You look troubled.”
“It’s just the Cu’ensali,” I prevaricated. Without no consensus about what and how to tell her, I didn’t know what to say. “It just seems so wrong to me. How can they exist without love, without companionship?”
“You’re being judgmental. What about the Houl?”
The SongLuminants had told us about the Houl. They were creatures that reproduced through division, but passed on their accumulated knowledge to both of their new selves. The SongLuminants had used them as an example of a very sophisticated sentient lifeform which wanted nothing to do with communication or companionship. There was a large population of Houl in the Draco dwarf cluster, but our colony wasn’t anywhere near them. Since they weren’t in any conception hostile, it was easy to just let them be.
“Cu’ensali aren’t Houl,” I protested. “I think they’d be much happier as part of a collective.”
Tara looked at me curiously. “Scant chance of convincing them of that,” she said. “Look, you need to relax. Come to bed. Let me take your mind off things.”
« Game over, » said Mickey. « There’s no possibility of thinking for at least the next half-hour. »
Tara bent closer, her lips next to my ear. “I know why Ellery fancies you. If you have my heart, how could Ash not give you his?”
I felt the shock of fire run down the length of my spine; the next thing I knew, I was on top of her, my lips on hers. The last thing I considered before instinct took over was How could anyone not want to be here, for the chance of having this?
*****
Sleepy from our passion, Tara dozed off quietly in my arms. Her instincts had been perfect; the pleasure of sex notwithstanding, focusing our attention on her had done a world of good for smoothing our ruffled leaves.
My thoughts drifted in the haze of pollen-receptivity. I’d never paid much attention to it before. Most nau’gsh didn’t. Quite possibly, this is confusing to humans, so perhaps I should explain. Pollen release was impossible to miss: triggered by the orgasm of the human emanation, the sensation experienced by the pollinating branches within the pleroma felt identical to it. Being pollinated was another matter altogether. It was a sensation with no analogue in the human body, and for all other Cu’enashti, happened only to the emanated branch. Noticing it required that branch to be paying attention to the sensations of the tree, which were both distant from and alien to the human body. It also required that branch not to be distracted by the ultimate distractor, the Chosen, immediately after sexual activity. In short, none of us had ever noticed – that is, until we grew Goliath. Because of the way Dermot and Davy constructed its branches, a parallel arousal is triggered by the activity of their brothers on Atlas. Suddenly, branches within the pleroma were able to experience the sensation of being pollinated while not incarnated in a human body.
« Theoretically, your statement is sensible, » said Aran, « but in fact, Patrick noticed it before I did, and he was the one emanated at the time. »
« There’s a certain amount of repression involved, » said Tarlach, « a fear that such sensations compromise one’s n’aashet n’aaverti. I’ve worked hard to dispel those inhibitions. »
« Trust me, once you notice it, you’ll never not notice it again, » said Patrick.
I had my doubts. I was so rarely pollinated anyway; my flower-bearing branches were much higher on Atlas than the other branches could easily reach during a pollen poof. I was far more often the pollinator than the pollinated, since my height gave me the advantage of showering my pollen down on the others.
« I know, » said Cillian.
It was then I became aware that Cillian was trying to manipulate the warm air currents generated by the pollen poof. « What are you trying to do? » I asked.
« What do you think? » he grunted.
« He’s been in my branch for weeks, studying the technique I used with Whirljack, » said Patrick. « I don’t think it’s going to work, though. Whirljack isn’t as tall as you, and my level of control is better than Cillian’s. »
« Ha! The ocean breeze was in your favor that night, » scoffed Cillian. « And I’m not giving up yet. »
« You need a breeze? » I asked. « I’m emanated as Archon. Nothing could be easier. »
But if he was trying to pollinate me, a gentle wind might not be enough. Instead, I slammed the coast with a freak updraft. The force of the gust shook the windows of Court Emmere.
“Ailann,” Tara murmured sleepily, “what was that?”
“Nothing,” I gasped, as I was pelted with pollen not only from Cillian, but from every seaward branch on the north side of Atlas: Mickey, Tommy, Chase, Sloane and Daniel.
Ah, fuck, I’m not used to that much pollen, I …ooooooh.
« Do that again from the south, » suggested Lorcan, « so that Patrick and Evan and I can get some action. »
« Lucius, you have a cross-pollination request submitted for Ailann, » said Tarlach. « Make sure you put out some heavy benzene for the fokkerflies. »
« Oh, that’s right! » said Lucius. « I’m on it. »
« Wait, cross-pollination? I…»
« Ailann, just shut up and take it like a tree, » said Cillian. « You’ll have lots of fruit for Tara to eat. »
« But why does anyone care whether they are able to pollinate me? The physical sensation ends once the pollen is released. »
« An excellent question, » said Tarlach. « We never used to care. We know, for example, that the seed which gave rise to Ashkaman came from Patrick, but we have no idea who the father was. »
« That’s an easy one, » said Tommy. « Believe me, I know my porn, and there aren’t many human males who get a lot of sexual satisfaction from donating to a sperm bank. »
« I don’t get it, » said Davy.
« Good, » said Lorcan. « Now you know how we feel when you tell us it’s obvious. »
« But this is obvious, » said Patrick. « Sex isn’t just physical, it’s emotional. You want to know that you’ve had an effect on your partner. »
« That’s not so obvious, » said Dermot. « That is in no way the logic of a self-pollinating tree. It’s not the logic of a mothman either, since nul-beings have no mechanism for sexual response. It is an entirely human rationale. »
« Which means that however we started, contact with humans has caused us to evolve in an entirely new direction, » said Malachi. « We’re so much more than blobs of proto-conscious energy. »
Malachi continued to talk, but I could no longer focus. I was drowning in ecstasy. Patrick was right – now that I’d experienced it, it was impossible to miss. More importantly, Cillian had wanted me to feel this, had been planning it for some time. I allowed myself to drift as my most intimate places were dusted with delight, accompanied by the reassuring sound of Tara’s soft, rhythmic snoring. I didn’t even need alcohol to forget, temporarily, that I still had no idea what to tell her.