The Complete Short Stories: The 1950s. Brian Aldiss

      The priest flung back an obscene answer which Brandyholm scarcely heeded. He activated the lock. Slowly the panel slid back. The ship! It always had been his world and always would: its confinement, its jungles, its foetid corridors, its taboos and terrors; but now he would be more than a mere hunter – he would be a ruler. Eagerly, he stepped inside.

      A dozen figures awaited him. He drew up in amazement. Although they all wore suits and helmets, he recognised Viann at once. And another face that he knew was Master Scott’s. Master Scott, as did many of the others, held a weapon levelled at Brandyholm’s heart.

      ‘Yes, we’ve been listening carefully over the suit radios,’ Master Scott said. ‘You came back inopportunely, didn’t you?’

      ‘Uh – uh,’ Brandyholm began, but no words came. His last bolt had been shot. Now the journey was over. The pressures in his brain burst out against their artificial dam, flooding and breaking their neural paths. He tried to summon rage to his aid, to help and strengthen him, but it would not come. He reeled blindly in the semi-dark.

      ‘We were waiting quietly here to rush the relief rocket when it arrives,’ Scott said levelly. ‘And then in you come, with your big ideas. Well, I think there’s still time to finish you.’

      He turned to look at Viann, who had rested a hand on his suit. She shook her head.

      ‘Leave him,’ she said. ‘He’s harmless now.’

      Indeed, Brandyholm had slumped to his knees, almost in an attitude of prayer. The great stars beyond him were suddenly blotted out by the dark, arriving shape of the relief rocket.

       Psyclops

      Mmm I.

      First statement: I am I. I am everything. Everything, everywhere.

      The universe is constructed of me, I am the whole of it. Am I? What is that throbbing that is not of me? That must be me too; after a while I shall understand it. All now is dim. Dim mmmm.

      Even I am dim. In all this great strangeness and darkness of me, in all this universe of me, I am shadow. A memory of me. Could I be a memory of … not – me? Paradox: if I am everything, could there be a not-me?

      Why am I having thoughts? Why am I not, as I was before, just mmmm?

       Wake up! It’s urgent!

      No! Deny it! I am the universe. If you can speak to me you must be me, so I command you to be still. There must be only the soothing mmmm.

       … you are not the universe! Listen!

      Louder?

       Can you hear at last?

      Non-comprehension. I must be everything. Can there be a part of me, like the throbbing, which is … separate?

       Am I getting through? Answer!

      Who … are you?

       Do not be frightened.

      Are you another … universe?

       I am not a universe. You are not a universe. You are in danger and I must help you.

      Mmmm. Must be mmmm …

       … If only there were a psychofoetalist within light-years of here … Well, keep trying. Wake up! You must wake up to survive!

      Who are you?

       I am your father.

      Non-comprehension. Are you the throbbing which is not me?

       No. I am a long way from you. Light-years away.

      You bring me feelings of … pain.

       Don’t be afraid of it, but know there is much pain all about you. I am in constant pain.

      Interest.

       Good! First things first. You are most important.

      I know that. All this is not happening. Somehow I catch these echoes, these dreams.

       Try to concentrate. You are only one of millions like you. You and I are of the same species: human beings. I am born, you are unborn.

      Meaningless.

       Listen! Your ‘universe’ is inside another human being. Soon you will emerge into the real universe.

      Still meaningless. Curious.

       Keep alert. I will send you pictures to help you understand …

      Uh …? Distance? Sight? Colour? Form? Definitely do not like this. Frightened. Frightened of falling, insecure … Must immediately retreat to safe mmmm. Mmmm.

       Better let him rest! After all, he’s only six months; at the Pre-natal Academies they don’t begin rousing and education till seven and a half months. And then they’re trained to the job. If only I knew – my leg, you blue swine!

      That picture …

       Well done! I’m really sorry to rouse you so early, but it’s vital.

      Praise for me, warm feelings. Good. Better than being alone in the universe.

       That’s a great step forward, son. I can almost realise how the Creator felt, when you say that.

      Non-comprehension.

       Sorry, my fault; let the thought slip by. Must be careful. You were going to ask me about the picture I sent you. Shall I send again?

      Only a little at once. Curious. Shape, colour, beauty. Is that the real universe?

       That was just Earth I showed you, where I was born, where I hope you will be born.

      Non-comprehension. Show again … shapes, tones, scents … Ah, this time not so strange. Different?

       Yes, a different picture. Many pictures of Earth. Look.

      Ah … Better than my darkness … I know only my darkness, sweet and warm, yet I seem to remember those – trees.

       That’s a race memory, son. Your faculties are beginning to work, now.

      More beautiful pictures please.

       We cannot waste too long on the pictures. I’ve got a lot to tell you before you get out of range. These blue devils –

      Why do you cease sending so abruptly? Hello? … Nothing. Father? … Nothing. Was there ever anything, or have I been alone and dreaming?

      Nothing in all my universe but the throbbing. Is someone here with me? No, no answer. I must ask the voice, if the voice comes back. Now I must mmmm. Am no longer content as I was before. Strange feelings. … I want more pictures; I want … to …

      Mmmm.

      Dreaming myself to be a fish, fin-tailed, flickering through deep, still water. All is green and warm and without menace, and I swim forever with assurance … And then the water splits into lashing cords and plunges down, down, down a sunlit cliff. I fight to turn back, carried forward, fighting to return to the deep, sure dark –

       – if you want to save yourself! Wake if you want to save yourself! I can’t hold out much longer. Another few days across these mountains –

      Go away! Leave me to myself. I can have nothing to do with you.

       You must try and understand! I know it’s agony for you, but you must stir yourself and take in what I say. It is imperative.

      Nothing is