Star Maker by Olaf Stapledon (bts book recommendations .txt) π
The universe in which fate had set me was no spangled chamber, but a perceived vortex of star-streams. No! It was more. Peering between the stars into the outer darkness, I saw also, as mere flecks and points of light, other such vortices, such galaxies, sparsely scattered in the void, depth beyond depth, so far afield that even the eye of imagination could find no limits to the cosmical, the all-embracing galaxy of galaxies. The universe now appeared to me as a void wherein floated rare flakes of snow, each flake a universe.
Gazing at the faintest and remotest of all the swarm of universes, I seemed, by hypertelescopic imagination, to see it as a population of suns; a
Read free book Β«Star Maker by Olaf Stapledon (bts book recommendations .txt) πΒ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Olaf Stapledon
- Performer: -
Read book online Β«Star Maker by Olaf Stapledon (bts book recommendations .txt) πΒ». Author - Olaf Stapledon
globes adapted to life at some particular distance from the sun. Great
diversity, both physical and mental, would distinguish worlds even of
the same ring. Sometimes a comparatively old world, or even a whole ring
of worlds, would feel itself outstripped in mental excellence by younger
worlds and races, whose structure, physical and biological, embodied
increasing skill. Then either the superannuated world would simply
continue its life in a sort of backwater of civilization, tolerated,
loved, studied by the younger worlds; or it would choose to die and
surrender the material of its planet for new ventures.
One very small and rather uncommon kind of artificial world consisted
almost wholly of water. It was like a titanic bowl of gold-fish. Beneath
its transparent shell, studded with rocket-machinery and interplanetary
docks, lay a spherical ocean, crossed by structural girders, and
constantly impregnated with oxygen. A small solid core represented the
sea-bottom. The population of Ichthyoids and the visiting population of
Arachnoids swarmed in this huge encrusted drop. Each Ichthyoid would be
visited in turn by perhaps a score of partners whose working life was
spent on other worlds. The life of the Ichthyoids was indeed a strange
one, for they were at once imprisoned and free of all space. An
Ichthyoid never left his native ocean, but he had telepathic intercourse
with the whole Symbiotic race throughout the sub-galaxy. Moreover, the
one form of practical activity which the Ichthyoids performed was
astronomy. Immediately beneath the planetβs glassy crust hung
observatories, where the swimming astronomers studied the constitution
of the stars and the distribution of the galaxies.
These βgold-fish-bowlβ worlds turned out to be transitional. Shortly
before the age of the mad empires the Symbiotics began to experiment for
the production of a world which should consist of a single physical
organism. After ages of experiment they produced a βgold-fish-bowlβ type
of world in which the whole ocean was meshed by a fixed network of
Ichthyoid individuals in direct neural connection with one another. This
worldwide, living, polyp-like tissue had permanent attachments to the
machinery and observatories of the world. Thus it constituted a truly
organic world-organism, and since the coherent Ichthyoid population
supported together a perfectly unified mentality, each of these worlds
was indeed in the fullest sense a minded organism, like a man. One
essential link with the past was preserved. Arachnoids, specially
adapted to the new symbiosis, would visit from their remote planets and
swim along the submarine galleries for union with their anchored mates.
More and more of the stars of the outlying cluster or sub-galaxy came to
be girdled with rings of worlds, and an increasing number of these
worlds were of the new, organic type. Of the populations of the
sub-galaxy most were descendants of the original Ichthyoids or
Arachnoids; but there were also many whose natural ancestors were
humanesque, and not a few that had sprung from avians, insectoids or
plant-men. Between the worlds, between the rings of worlds, and between
the solar systems there was constant intercourse, both telepathic and
physical. Small, rocket-propelled vessels plied regularly within each
system of planets. Larger vessels or high-speed worldlets voyaged from
system to system, explored the whole sub-galaxy, and even ventured
across the ocean of emptiness into the main body of the galaxy, where
thousands upon thousands of planetless stars awaited encirclement by
rings of worlds.
Strangely, the triumphant advance of material civilization and
colonization now slowed down and actually came to a standstill. Physical
intercourse between worlds of the sub-galaxy was maintained, but not
increased. Physical exploration of the neighboring fringe of the
galactic βcontinentβ was abandoned. Within the sub-galaxy itself no new
worlds were founded. Industrial activities continued, but at reduced
pressure, and no further advance was made in the standard of material
convenience. Indeed, manners and customs began to grow less dependent on
mechanical aids. Among the Symbiotic worlds, the Arachnoid populations
were reduced in number; the Ichthyoids in their cells of ocean lived in
a permanent state of mental concentration and fervor, which of course
was telepathically shared by their partners.
It was at this time that telepathic intercourse between the advanced
sub-galaxy and the few awakened worlds of the continent was entirely
abolished. During recent ages, communication had been very fragmentary.
The Sub-Galactics had apparently so far outstripped their neighbors that
their interest in those primitives had become purely archaeological, and
was gradually eclipsed by the enthralling life of their own community of
worlds, and by their telepathic exploration of remote galaxies. To us,
the band of explorers, desperately struggling to maintain contact
between our communal mind and the incomparably more developed minds of
these worlds, the finest activities of the Sub-Galactics were at present
inaccessible. We observed only a stagnation of the more obvious physical
and mental activities of these systems of worlds. It seemed at first
that this stagnation must be caused by some obscure flaw in their
nature. Was it, perhaps, the first stage of irrevocable decline? Later,
however, we began to discover that this seeming stagnation was a symptom
not of death but of more vigorous life. Attention had been drawn from
material advancement just because it had opened up new spheres of mental
discovery and growth. In fact the great community of worlds, whose
members consisted of some thousands of world-spirits, was busy digesting
the fruits of its prolonged phase of physical progress, and was now
finding itself capable of new and unexpected psychical activities. At
first the nature of these activities was entirely hidden from us. But in
time we learned how to let ourselves be gathered up by these superhuman
beings so as to obtain at least an obscure glimpse of the matters which
so enthralled them. They were concerned, it seemed, partly with
telepathic exploration of the great host of ten million galaxies, partly
with a technique of spiritual discipline by which they strove to come to
more penetrating insight into the nature of the cosmos and to a finer
creativity. This, we learned, was possible because their perfect
community of worlds was tentatively waking into a higher plane of being,
as a single communal mind whose body was the whole sub-galaxy of worlds.
Though we could not participate in the life of this lofty being, we
guessed that its absorbing passion was not wholly unlike the longing of
the noblest of our own human species to βcome face to face with God.β
This new being desired to have the percipience and the hardihood to
endure direct vision of the source of all light and life and love. In
fact this whole population of worlds was rapt in a prolonged and
mystical adventure.
5. THE TRAGEDY OF THE PERVERTS
Such was the state of affairs when, in the main galactic βcontinent,β
the mad United Empires concentrated their power upon the few worlds that
were not merely sane but of superior mental rank. The attention of the
Symbiotics and their colleagues in the supremely civilized sub-galaxy
had long been withdrawn from the petty affairs of the βcontinent.β It
was given instead to the cosmos as a whole and to the inner discipline
of the spirit. But the first of the three murders perpetrated by the
United Empires upon a population far more developed than themselves
seems to have caused a penetrating reverberation to echo, so to speak,
through all the loftier spheres of existence. Even in the full flight of
their career, the Sub-Galactics took cognizance. Once more attention was
directed telepathically to the neighboring continent of stars. While the
situation was being studied, the second murder was committed. The
Sub-Galactics knew that they had power to prevent any further disaster.
Yet, to our surprise, our horror and incomprehension, they calmly
awaited the third murder. Still more strange, the doomed worlds
themselves, though in telepathic communication with the Sub-Galaxy, made
no appeal for help. Victims and spectators alike studied the situation
with quiet interest, even with a sort of bright exultation not wholly
unlike amusement. From our lowlier plane this detachment, this seeming
levity, at first appeared less angelic than inhuman. Here was a whole
world of sensitive and intelligent beings in the full tide of eager life
and communal activity. Here were lovers newly come together, scientists
in the midst of profound research, artists intent on new delicacies of
apprehension, workers in a thousand practical social undertakings of
which man has no conception, here in fact was all the rich diversity of
personal lives that go to make up a highly developed world in action.
And each of these individual minds participated in the communal mind of
all; each experienced not only as a private individual but as the very
spirit of his race. Yet these calm beings faced the destruction of their
world with no more distress seemingly than one of us would feel at the
prospect of resigning his part in some interesting game. And in the
minds of the spectators of this impending tragedy we observed no agony
of compassion, but only such commiseration, tinged with humor, as we
might feel for some distinguished tennis-player who was knocked out in
the first round of a tournament by some trivial accident such as a
sprained ankle.
With difficulty we came to understand the source of this strange
equanimity. Spectators and victims alike were so absorbed in
cosmological research, so conscious of the richness and potentiality of
the cosmos, and above all so possessed by spiritual contemplation, that
the destruction was seen, even by the victims themselves, from the point
of view which men would call divine. Their gay exaltation and their
seeming frivolity were rooted in the fact that to them the personal
life, and even the life and death of individual worlds, appeared chiefly
as vital themes contributing to the life of the cosmos. From the
cosmical point of view the disaster was after all a very small though
poignant matter. Moreover, if by the sacrifice of another group of
worlds, even of splendidly awakened worlds, greater insight could be
attained into the insanity of the Mad Empires, the sacrifice was well
worth while.
So the third murder was committed. Then came the miracle. The telepathic
skill of the Sub-Galaxy was far more developed than that of the
scattered superior worlds on the galactic βcontinent.β It could dispense
with the aid of normal intercourse, and it could overcome every
resistance. It could reach right down to the buried chrysalis of the
spirit even in the most perverted individual. This was not a merely
destructive power, blotting out the communal mind hypnotically; it was a
kindling, an awakening power, brought to bear on the sane but dormant
core of each individual. This skill was now exercised upon the galactic
continent with triumphant but also tragic effect; for even this skill
was not omnipotent. There appeared here and there among the mad worlds a
strange and spreading βdiseaseβ of the mind. To the orthodox
imperialists in those worlds themselves it seemed a madness; but it was
in fact a late and ineffectual waking into sanity on the part of beings
whose nature had been molded through and through for madness in a mad
environment.
The course of this βdiseaseβ of sanity in a mad world ran generally as
follows. Individuals here and there, while still playing their part in
the well-disciplined action and communal thought of the world, would
find themselves teased by private doubts and disgusts opposed to the
dearest assumptions of the world in which they lived, doubts of the
worth of record-breaking travel and record-breaking empire, and disgust
with the cult of mechanical triumph and intellectual servility and the
divinity of the race. As these disturbing thoughts increased, the
bewildered individuals would begin to fear for their own βsanity.β
Presently they would cautiously sound their neighbors. Little by little,
doubt would become more widespread and more vocal, until at last
considerable minorities in each
Comments (0)