Heaven (7 page)

West:
So, uh, we ourselves may be at risk—again.

North:
Permit a minor correction, West. The dynamic of history is emergent. No algorithm can predict its long-term course. It can
only be left to unfold. However, some courses are more probable than others, and there are heuristic procedures to compute
those probabilities.

West:
And your point is?

North:
The risk to me/us cannot yet be quantified.

South:
Ah, yes . . . I/we am/are not at risk as long as my/our existence remains unsuspected by Galactic civilization, and as long
as the incursion follows its less malign course. My/our own destruction would occur only if there were widespread disruption
of our planet, such as the release of a pan-oceanic biotoxin.

North:
Correct. But I perceive no such activity.

West:
Yet.

South:
Pessimist! Let us assume the less malign course. It is still a disaster. But not, directly, for us.

North:
No. It is for our husbands that we must fear.

East:
For they are individuals, and recognizable as such.

North:
And evidently sentient.

West:
There are times when I would beg to differ. Consider the example of Second-Best Sailor! But technically speaking, you are
right. So our polypoid husbands are obvious targets for the approaching memeplex.

East:
We must protect them from the coming menace. Look, even now it becomes more central in our perceptions!

West:
Yes. We will speed up our implementation of the usual contingency plans, then, fellow reefwives? Vaccinations against viral
attacks, the formation of covert guerilla groups? Large-scale plans to mobilize the husbands? An improved capacity to wage
ecological warfare on a planetary scale?

East:
Affirmed.

South:
Emphasized.

North:
Obligatory.

By the time the wild magnetotorus herd passed close by No-Moon, it was definitely speeding up. Ahead was the orbit of Chromatistes,
a smaller, predominantly purple world. This was home to a complex ecology of archoid pseudobacteria and Belousov perennials—mobile
meadows that formed patterns of concentric rings.

As the herd sensed good grazing up ahead, the herders made final careful adjustments to its trajectory, let slip the magnetic
reins, and concentrated on positioning their improbable ceramic craft in a stable, high-radiation orbit. The magnetotori ignored
the innermost planet of the system, technically classed as a slag asteroid. They stampeded toward the designated areas in
the photosphere of Lambda Coelacanthi, guided by solar flares lit by the indigenous plasmoids. Down, down, down the gravity
gradient the herds plunged, sensing the granular magnetic patterns of ripe vortex-fields. They plunged into the star in a
spectacular light show. As the last of the chains disappeared, strange ripples coursed through the hot plasma of the photosphere,
sending short-lived flares looping out into the corona and temporarily disrupting electromagnetic communications throughout
the system. Soon, only the plasmoids and the herders would know that the herds were there.

The herders adjusted the orbits of their ceramic homes, the better to keep watch over their beasts. Soon the magnetotori would
start broadcasting radio-pheromones, which would trigger the strange topological dances of mating. Until then, the herders
could leave their beasts to browse on magnetic field-lines while their owners floated in the health-giving radiance of the
solar wind.

After a long journey between the stars, it was good to relax, sunbathe, and recharge one’s frequencies.

Sam relished the familiar words as the high acolyte recited the central tenets of the Church of Cosmic Unity. Its high-pitched
squeals were translated into comprehensible signals by a variety of electronic aids so that all could understand.

The origins of his religion were uncertain; according to the best scholars it had appeared about twenty-five thousand years
ago on a small number of solar systems closely associated with the System of the Original Sun. Three or four sentient species
had stumbled upon the first intimations of a new, species-transcendent philosophy—that no sentient being was superior to any
other. It followed that cooperation, rather than mutual antagonism, was the righteous way to live. The model for this form
of coexistence was symbiosis, a universal evolutionary trick familiar to all sentient species on their own worlds. The resulting
belief system encouraged a multicultural, multispecies vision of the future. And it was so evident that this system was
right
that its main objective naturally became its own propagation and expansion.

“The many shall become the One,” the blimp intoned solemnly. “The ways of the many shall become the way of the One.”

The assembled creatures all performed one of the few motions that most of them had in common, a brief ducking movement. The
Wymokh acolyte flattened slightly and then returned to its normal, slightly oblate spheroidal shape. The metallomorphs on
the wall twitched. Sam bowed his head momentarily. He understood the meaning of the words: that every species should recognize
the existence of every other and respect its ways. That was the entire basis of Cosmic Unity: mutual respect and tolerance.

“This is the inevitable course of the Lifesoul-Giver, and none shall be excluded from the Fellowship of the All,” said the
high acolyte. “The Memeplex of the One is all, and the Memeplex of the One shall be conveyed to all. And all shall receive
the Memeplex, and believe, and obey.”

Sam translated this as “Every sentient species must be persuaded to adopt the beliefs and ways of Cosmic Unity. It is the
duty of every servant to ensure that no species fails to be converted to the sole true religion, with its morally uplifting
focus on mutual tolerance. It is the duty of every servant to promote the pan-specific symbiosis.”

And the servants had not flinched in their duty. From Cosmic Unity’s early beginnings, with the conversion of a few solar
systems in one remote corner of the Galaxy, it had spread like wildfire. The Memeplex of the One had succeeded beyond the
Founders’ wildest dreams. The evangelists had expected resistance, possibly violent resistance. It had not materialized, not
then, back when it all started. There had been dissenters, of course—there are always dissenters. But they were few and easily
overcome. The Memeplex was so strong, so sensible, so self-evidently
right
. Who could argue against tolerance and respect? Who could support intolerance or non- cooperation?

The Memeplex had been partly designed, had partly evolved. At first by accident, later by intent, Cosmic Unity’s Founders
had laid down a collection of memes—concepts that could propagate themselves in the medium of intelligent minds—so attractive
that it traveled between stellar systems like a celestial gale. The more sophisticated designer memes of the Church’s main
expansion phase were proof against the commonest antimemetics, and only very unusual cultures could resist them. Paramount
among these were the wandering Neanderthals, whose lack of any spiritual dimension rendered them immune to all religions.

Instead of wasteful, terrible interstellar wars, the priesthood of Cosmic Unity preached the word of peace. And that made
sense, because any intelligent organism can understand that there is no way to protect a planet. A single large asteroid,
set on a rough collision course, could destroy a world. And it could come from any direction, anywhere in the celestial sphere.
Once diverted into a planet-bound orbit, an asteroid would be virtually unstoppable, especially one protected by an armed
escort. Attempts to change its trajectory could be wrecked by a hundred easy tactics—biological weapons, booby traps, or merely
surrounding the weapon with a cloud of smaller rocks and gravel so that nothing could approach it. Even if the planet possessed
gravitic repulsors, these clumsy, slow-moving devices could be overwhelmed, taken out, or sabotaged. And defending against
such an attack by preventing the enemy from gaining control of an asteroid was almost impossible. Most solar systems had their
own version of an asteroid belt, and if necessary the invaders could bring their own rocks with them.

And that was just one tactic, the most primitive. There were others. Suicide squads of plasmoids could turn a star into a
giant laser and sterilize its system. Organisms causing virulent diseases could rain down from the darkness of space, as virtually
undetectable spores tailored to the sentient inhabitants. Seas could be poisoned, icefields melted, acid oceans neutralized,
mountains flattened, forests set ablaze. Atmospheres could be infiltrated with corrosive oxygen or stripped away with blasts
of energetic particles. Protective magnetic fields could be stolen. Stabilizing moons could be abducted.

A planet was a fragile place to live if someone wanted you and all your kind dead.

The only defense—if that was the word—was a preemptive strike. Kill your fellow being before it kills you. And
that
philosophy would get everybody killed.

It would rid the Galaxy of its infections. But the infections didn’t want that.

Mutual coexistence, pan-specific symbiosis—it was such an obvious idea. There was no rational alternative. For perhaps the
first time in history, anywhere in the Galaxy, a religion had arisen with an entirely rational basis. Its dissemination was
a precious trust, and no effort, however extreme, would be spared in bringing it to every corner of the Galaxy.

The high acolyte’s voice, explaining these well-known facts, ended in a squeal of triumph. The blimp pivoted and settled into
its relaxation pose. After a short, democratic vote of the entire congregation, the Illensan was chosen to speak next. The
translation devices automatically reset to pick up the ultrahigh frequencies employed by its kind.

“Fellow servants, as we approach the next recipients of our message of cosmic harmony, those poor benighted lifesouls on the
ocean world without a moon, we must not allow the excitement of our mission to deflect us from the foundations of our faith.
Let us all remember this,” the Illensan declaimed, “when we talk of the Memeplex of the One.” To his horror, Sam found himself
fighting a sudden attack of boredom. Hadn’t they just been over that ground? Oh, how weak he was, despite his devotion to
the Church. He tried to banish the unwanted thoughts. “But, by definition, a memeplex is multiple,” the Illensan continued.
“How, then, can a multiplicity represent a unity?”

Good point, Sam realized. Hadn’t thought of that. Maybe this was going to be worth hearing. Anyway, he wasn’t supposed to
be here to enjoy himself; he was here because it was right to be here, and to prepare for the task ahead.

The Illensan waited for the paradox to register with the assembled lifesouls. “What is a memeplex? It is a network of mutually
supportive ideas, which collectively cause each other to be propagated. Old-style religions did not understand the means of
their own success, but the Church of Cosmic Unity suffers no such delusions. It is entirely aware of the reasons for its universal
appeal, and it celebrates them! A memeplex is not simply an accident, my fellows. It makes a statement that intelligent minds
are eager to hear—a statement so compelling that it must be passed on to others.

“And not just one statement: an entire system of them. Not any memeplex, but
the
Memeplex. So powerful is the Memeplex that through it, and it alone, entire worlds can attain the ultimate bliss of Heaven!
Many have done so. More will follow them. And to advance that process, we will now contemplate the two Great Memes, the twin
pillars of the Memeplex.” The Illensan paused to adjust its powerball. “Huff Elder herself enunciated these twin memes in
the earliest days of the Prime Mission. They are mutually complementary, and between them they form the basis of everything
we do. And
that
is how many can be one.”

Unbidden, the Great Memes rose to the forefront of Sam’s mind. He had been trained to recite them since before he could walk.

The First Great Meme, the Illensan reminded them, asserted the supremacy of the collective over the individual. What mattered
was the Church, not any single member. Not even a Founder, not even an ecclesiarch.

“And what is the Second Great Meme? It concerns the role of the individual within the collective. What is important for the
lifesoul of any one of us here is not bodily comfort. We can be cold, or hot, or wet, or dry . . . happy or sad, consensual
or consumed. None of those matters! All that matters is spiritual completeness. We must be fulfilled; we must follow the precepts
of the Originals. We must follow the path of tolerance and love for all sentient beings, everywhere in the universe. For that
is the path that leads, if all play their part, to the ecstasy of Heaven! Remember, Heaven is no abstraction. Already, for
a ninesquare and seven worlds, Heaven is a reality. And the Church’s ultimate task, toward which every one of you strives
with every fiber of your being, is to make
every
world a Heaven!”

The Illensan’s oratory had risen to a strident climax. Suddenly drained of energy, no longer able to sustain such heights
of emotion, it switched mood, never missing a beat. Previously, the words had tumbled out in a rush; now, they came one at
a time, like the steady drip of liquid. “But Heaven is not quickly attained. The path to bliss is strewn with obstacles. Before
you can aspire to Heaven, you must come to grips with”—pause for effect—“
perversion
. What is fittest will thrive; what is least fit will decay: That is a basic evolutionary principle. . . .”

It was gripping stuff, solid doctrine. Wise words, indeed. It needed to be said again and again, and listened to as if it
were ever fresh. Yet, as the Illensan droned on, Sam felt his mind slipping away . . . and awoke with a jolt as the Fyx on
his left alerted him to the unwanted attentions of a sharp-eyed acolyte. Sam surfaced from his daydream to find that the same
speaker still held the stage. The Illensan, who had been rehearsing the eight varieties of perversion, resettled itself on
its powerball, winding up to a conclusion: “Cosmic Unity tells us to tolerate all differences
except
perversion. Perversion is a great evil and must be rooted out at any cost. So we need feel no shame in performing the lesser
evil of eradicating perversion at the root, before it becomes established.”