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After the Games Xavier and Prunella had planned
to take Noel into the mountains with some of the rescued droids. It was
a fine morning after the celebrations; they rose late and breakfasted in
good humour, listening to the radio as the first news of the kidnap broke.
The kidnappers, assumed to be ADL men, were demanding a ransom, and Noel
and Prunella, though concerned for the family, took no further notice. Xavier
was thoughtful for a while, then remarked:
"The ransom is too low," and left the house saying that he was
going to buy the newspapers.
He returned, read all the versions of the kidnap events, finally grunted
and picked up the phone, looking serious.
"Get a squad out to the Mayor's block, and pull out all the viddisks
on any upwards-pointing security cameras, and from any along the escape
route. What? Of course some will point up, the brickfalls keep dislodging
them, don't you notice anything? And be discrete, and make absolutely sure
you don't miss any."
He slammed down the phone, looked intent for a moment and then grinned.
"We are ready to go as soon as they get the disks."
A group of droids gathered at their house with a couple of old vehicles,
and Noel helped load the trucks, chatting to the newcomers who had been
waiting for Xavier to take them from the Poets Quarter. Neither he nor Prunella
had any idea what Xavier saw in the kidnapping, but he said nothing and
about mid-day they set off in the direction of the mountains after receipt
of the disks. There was a lot of traffic, as the visitors to the Games were
departing, and this helped to keep the police busy at the roads leading
out of the Poets Quarter. The droids were made up in the style of the typical
Games fan, and they had no trouble in reaching the countryside. In a good
mood, the droids sang a popular song in the back of the trucks as they made
for the mountains across the increasingly arid plains.
They had not been going for very long, travelling on a deserted stretch
of road, when a vehicle came up fast behind the last of the four trucks.
As it overtook them, they heard a burst of fire and an explosion as the
last truck burst into flames. In a panic the other trucks braked and pulled
off the road onto the hard dusty roadside. Noel could see some of the droids
running towards them through the settling dust and cloud of black smoke
from the burning truck. Xavier pointed to a box under one of the seats.
"Arm yourselves," he said, and jumped out clutching a weapon.
From behind the front of his truck he swiftly took aim at the rapidly receding
vehicle, and fired several shots at it. He had punctured a tyre. The vehicle,
a fast modern machine, skidded off the road in cloud of dust and came to
a halt. Xavier gave Noel a brief look that seemed to contain a mixture of
disgust and sadness as he brushed past him and back into the truck. He jerked
a squat looking weapon from the dash and rammed a thick tube of shells into
its base. Slamming it down on the bonnet of the truck he straddled down
to take sight through its cross-hairs as the dust around the vehicle was
clearing. Noel was distracted by the sight of an injured droid being helped
towards them and he rushed over to give assistance. Just as he reached them
he heard a whooshing sound and turned to see Xavier's missile flying across
to their attacker's vehicle. It hit one of the doors just as it was opening.
A silent flash of light preceded by a split second the roar of the explosion.
Noel, horrified, saw panels of the vehicle leap into the air along with
the dimly-visible shapes of bodies. A second explosion tossed the cavorting
bundles of machinery and bodies yet further apart.
Xavier, fearing that further attack would follow, did not waste time in
watching. He directed all the remaining droids, both injured and unharmed,
into the undamaged trucks, and they sped off. Prunella sat white-faced next
to Xavier. As they passed the burning and gutted vehicle they swerved violently
as Xavier avoided a charred corpse in the road. Prunella hid her face in
her hands.
As they made their way towards the mountains, Noel did what he could to
help the injured droids in their truck. None of them were critically ill;
they suffered mainly from flash burns, and Noel was relieved to hear that
at the Commune there would be the facilities for full repairs.
Noel felt an additional nervousness as they finally approached the gates
of the Commune. Xavier had suggested to him that he should talk to Hayer
Marinima about his mental states. Noel had been pleased about the idea at
the time, but as it was closer to becoming a reality he felt more apprehensive.
He had only ever discussed the subject with George and Xavier before, and
then not in any great depth. Apparently Marinima had some gift for seeing
into the minds of droids and people, and this thought began to awaken in
Noel's mind the feelings of dread, like those that would so often accompany
the moments on waking.
They had been climbing steeply for some hours now, the ancient internal
combustion engine of the vehicle only just coping. It soothed Noel to imagine
its pistons and valves moving in steady rhythm. He felt that all machines
were gifted with intelligence to varying degrees, and Noel thought that
he could dimly sense the monitor unit responding to the mood of the engine.
The guards at the gate of the Commune rapidly but carefully inspected each
occupant of the vehicles, and any corners of the vehicles where a person
or droid might hide. The injured were rushed out on stretchers. As Noel
entered the gates he looked back briefly; the view back along their route
up the mountains was spectacular. One could just see the Capital spread
out in the distance across the semi-desert of the plain, and the ominous
glow of the Fusodrome on its outskirts. The truck was left in a courtyard
and the small group of Xavier, Noel, Prunella, and Steven made their way
indoors. Xavier, in the company of two guards, led the way. He knew them
well and was talking urgently with them. He was unhappy that after their
counter-attack on the journey the League would now know how well they were
armed.
Once inside, Noel and the other newcomers were introduced to the staff.
Prunella hugged and kissed old friends. The atmosphere was serene and welcoming;
the tension that existed in the Poets Quarter was gone here. Noel breathed
deeply and relaxed on a sofa. He was to be introduced to the leader of the
Commune, Hayer Marinima, later in the afternoon. In the meantime people
and droids came and went and he chatted amiably with some of them, though
a slight unease remained in his mind in connection with meeting Marinima.
After a while Prunella came to guide him in to the old man's chamber. Marinima
was indeed very old, as Noel was surprised to see. Marinima beckoned to
Noel, and Prunella withdrew.
"Sit down," said the old man waving Noel to a chair that faced
him. Marinima looked at Noel for a while in silence.
"These are strange times," said Marinima in a very low voice.
"The Continent is dying. It is dying because it cannot understand its
own creations." He smiled a little at Noel and shrugged his shoulders
as if to say that it did not matter much why a thing was dying. He paused
for a while and then said:
"Tell me about yourself."
Noel hesitated and then plunged in.
"I have lived for nearly six hundred years now on a fairly even keel,"
he began. "But just in the last few years I feel that what I was is
disintegrating and something else is taking over. I am not functioning in
my ordinary tasks as well as I used to. But more than that, there is a part
of my mind that I do not recognize any more. Sometimes I sit and stare and
I do not know with whose eyes I am looking. Strange dark moods grip me.
And an odd single phrase keeps coming to me. Whenever I sit down at a keyboard
I find myself idly typing this short message." Noel paused. "May
I show it to you?"
"By all means."
Noel fished a scrap of paper from a pocket and, unfolding it, handed to
Marinima.
"The only way out is up," read out the old man slowly. He repeated
it, looking into Noel's eyes. Noel found his gaze immensely calm, but also
unsettling. He looked away.
"What does it mean to you?" Marinima asked.
"Nothing," said Noel. "I have puzzled over it for months.
I cannot imagine out of where the way out is that it refers to. Or what
up means here. I have recurring nightmares in which I am sliding down rather
than up."
"Hmm," said the old man thoughtfully. "I don't know what
it can mean. But I have met many droids like yourself who, after hundreds
of years of normal life, suddenly go through a change. It is happening more
and more these days, as though some kind of crisis grows near."
Marinima was silent for a while.
"Yes," he said. "A crisis grows near. I feel it. And somehow
I feel that you may play a part in the developments to come. Your odd little
message might be important too."
Marinima's voice was quiet, but more than that, it seemed to recede as he
talked, so that Noel had to pay great attention in order to follow it. Marinima's
words were not however those of the feeble-minded, quite the contrary: they
were clear and incisive and all the more powerful for their low-key delivery.
Marinima reflected a while and then suggested that Noel's message might
have a metaphysical meaning; that the soul had to evolve upwards, and that
to deal with any crisis in the spirit one had to move higher to seek a solution.
After telling Noel this he went on:
"You might wonder why all these people and droids come to stay here
with me. I have never intended to start a religion, but something like it
has grown up around me. The old religions could not adapt themselves to
the droids or to the crisis in peoples' lives that they have brought about.
People have taken my opinions on the issues as being illuminating or somehow
important. All I have said is that you and your kind have souls which are
no different to those of people."
He paused.
"Popular belief in the supernatural makes out that there are four supernatural
gifts: prescience, clairvoyance, telepathy, and telekinesis. Specifically
I can see into other people's minds; that is I am a little clairvoyant.
I hope you won't mind but I call all of you people."
Noel smiled.
"It is easier for me," Marinima continued. "Let me come to
the point now. There is something inside you which is causing you distress.
It maybe the onset of one of the supernatural gifts that I have talked about;
these are not limited to humans, and often are heralded by strange moods
and terrible dreams as you describe. That is my feeling about you; but what
I would encourage is that you push past your fears and find out for yourself."
Marinima leaned forward, making it impossible for Noel to avoid his eyes.
His expression was oddly sombre, as though he would have little patience
with any inability on Noel's part to comprehend him.
"In more primitive cultures, there were often periods of a man's or
a woman's life when they would be made to pass through a time of solitude
and hardship. Often this was around the time of puberty. It is the time
when a person becomes for the first time capable of either dying properly,
or of taking life. More than that, it means that the person would gain some
real understanding of what they were in this strange world. In some cultures
this process was referred to as meditation, and for want of a better word
I shall use it. Here in the Commune, I have set aside times and special
places for people to meditate in various ways. To all visitors I suggest
that they try it. Many have no inclination or aptitude for it however. I
think for you though, it could be a fruitful thing."
Noel felt almost that this last remark was like a direct order. The gravity
and lack of ceremony in the old man's manner impressed Noel.
"I would like that," Noel said.
The old man smiled.
Noel was made welcome by the members of the Commune, and he arranged to
participate in a course of meditation that was to start in a few weeks.
In the meantime he was given work in the kitchens, which he enjoyed. Noel
had always felt that he had been a part of the droid hostels he had stayed
in, so he was no stranger to sharing with many others. However, even his
experiences with George, Xavier, and Prunella had not prepared him for the
way in which people and droids worked and shared their leisure time together
in the Commune. At first the atmosphere seemed quite unreal to Noel. The
influence of the old man seemed to permeate the whole place with a calmness
and peace, and whether because of this, or for other reasons, Noel wondered
sometimes whether he was in some kind of fairyland.
Attitudes to Marinima seemed to vary from the outright reverence due to
a divine being, to a kind of practical-minded respect, to an open cynicism
shown by some of the newcomers and more casual visitors. Xavier's attitude
to Marinima became clearer in a meeting that they held, with Noel present,
to discuss security. They were to review the safeguards for the Commune,
evaluate developments with the Anti-Droid League, and lastly to consider
the information Xavier had on the viddisks from the time of the kidnap.
Noel found Xavier almost hesitant in the presence of the old man, and with
a modesty in his eyes and gentleness of movement not normally noticeable
in the Quarter. The discussion mainly passed over Noel's head, other than
the feeling that a sense of urgency was growing about their military preparations
back home, and he found himself taking the cue from Xavier with an unusual
degree of reserve in speech and gesture. It was only when Xavier came to
play back the disks that Noel became more attentive to the issues. Xavier
was pointing out the faint and blurred figure of a man appearing to float
against the night sky, in a tantalisingly short section of the disk that
he replayed over and over again. A similar blur was visible on other sections,
but could not really be identified as the figure of a man. Returning to
the first disk he paused on one section and enlarged the head so that a
man's features became almost recognisable. Marinima paid the utmost attention
throughout and finally said:
"This is a grave day. We knew that they had been working on this for
almost a century, that they had been quite obsessed with it, but I am alarmed
indeed that they seem to have reached their goal at last."
"You are sure that it is one of them?" asked Xavier.
"Who else? The features of the man show him to be one of the Brotherhood,
you can't mistake the difference shown between the two eyes. Even in a blurred
image like this it stands out. Their unbalanced minds can't hide, despite
all their training and pretence at normality."
"What should we do?"
"There is nothing we can do. It will just make it so much harder to
plan with a new player in the field, and with such an advantage. They will
undoubtedly make their move soon, and will be able to interfere without
giving much away for the time being. The pressure just increases now."
Marinima was silent for a moment and then:
"Have we any way of finding out the technology behind this? If we knew
that it would tell us where their next move might be directed."
Xavier shrugged.
"Surveillance is so hard around any scientific issues. They must have
achieved this through long periods of meticulous planning and deception,
and we will stand very little chance of making enquiries along the lines
of their research. I will try of course, without taking too great a risk
of attracting attention."
Xavier later told Noel what little he knew of the Brotherhood, stressing
the utmost secrecy of the knowledge of their existence: it was their only
weapon against an unknown but potentially far more dangerous force than
the ADL. It was only through Marinima and his earlier connections with the
Brothers that Xavier knew about them, and he had promised Marinima that
Noel would be the only other person to know. In the first instance all that
Xavier could do on his return would be to discretely increase his aerial
surveillance around the Quarter in the hope of picking up more sightings
of flight-bound Brothers.
After the initial gloom at the discovery of another enemy on the Continent,
Noel relaxed a little in the unique atmosphere of the Commune and felt a
kind of exhilaration at times, while some of the dread and anxiety that
had been building up in him in the factory, with George, and in Poets Quarter,
dispersed. The Commune seemed to embody his own half-formulated feelings
about how society could integrate the human and android peoples, but in
the back of his mind he kept a distance from it. He could not forget that
what he wanted here was to penetrate his dreams and face whatever it was
that was haunting him. The possibility that Marinima would actually help
him do this kept him more sober than he might otherwise have been.
Xavier and Prunella were to return to Poets Quarter after a week, as Xavier
was anxious to continue his work there. The few contacts that they had at
the Fusodrome needed to know of the growing determination of the A.D. League,
and to begin preparing the droids for possible conflict. Xavier's success
in the Games was making him an underground hero among the droids, and this
gave him a better opportunity to gain their support. Prunella gave Noel
a hug and a kiss as they left.
"I am so happy that you could stay here for a while," she said.
"Marinima will help you sort out your black-outs."
"I'll be back soon," said Noel. "For God's sake both of you
be careful."
"We will be. But you know that we couldn't sit back and watch all this
going on. If there's any chance of saving our poor Continent from its hot-heads,
then we must try and work for it."
"I understand. I want to do what I can as well."
"Of course."
Noel kissed her and waved them goodbye.
The next week went by quickly and the time came to start the meditation
course, in which a mixed group of droids and people were to participate.
Marinima himself came on the first day to talk to them. The participants,
or devotees, as some of them would call themselves, sat in a semicircle
around the old man. By his side sat a young man of vaguely monkish appearance,
who was to be their teacher for most of the course.
"My dear friends," began Marinima slowly in his usual soft and
distant tone, "this activity which we are gathered here for and which
I call meditation has one simple purpose. The purpose is to help you understand
yourself. I don't mean understand in the usual way however. Scientists of
human and machine behaviour, psychologists and cyberneticians, all teach
you a certain kind of understanding which is based on the consensus of the
third person. Meditation, as it is understood in the religious and mystical
traditions of the old world, is based on the understanding of the first
person. This first person singular is you. The kind of understanding that
I am talking about could be called awareness, in that you cannot understand
yourself once, and then rest in the knowledge gained, as you can with other
types of understanding. It has to be a continuous understanding, in the
moment. Again awareness is not quite right for what I am talking to you
about as awareness can mean that you become absorbed in the objects of your
awareness.
"The only way that you can know this thing is to experience it. For
this reason we have devised this course, for you to experience this thing
yourself. To help you we use all kinds of tricks, and I am afraid that they
are nothing more than that. You must take them seriously for the present
however, and later you can laugh at them. This thing is very delicate and
subtle. One technique therefore is to become aware as much as possible of
the most subtle things that you experience. These are thoughts and feelings.
Obviously something like a violent rage, or a passionate love, may take
you up so completely that there is no room for the witnessing or awareness
or understanding to operate. For this reason we will try to bring to your
attention very simple feelings and thoughts. Boredom, annoyance, and contentment
for example are simple feelings that are helpful to focus on. Most of all
we try and slow you down, to make some gaps in which this thing that I am
talking about can occur."
Marinima was silent for a while. He made no move in his chair and there
was an odd hiatus. The silence went on and the audience fidgeted. Noel suddenly
felt very odd: he could hear his thinking almost as if it belonged to someone
else. He was thinking that the old man was pausing for effect, and if so,
then this must have been the effect he had paused for. A wave of sadness
overcame Noel. Noel could feel himself as a huge space containing ponderous
floating thoughts and feelings, as the silence continued. The sadness was
deeply restful. Noel became so absorbed that he hardly noticed that Marinima
was speaking again.
"The sense organs of the body each respond to their own type of object.
Concentrate for a moment on the objects of sight, or if you prefer the term
the data associated with sight."
Noel found that he had shut his eyes. He opened them and took in the scene:
there was bright sunshine in the secluded courtyard where the course was
held. Noel saw the colours, shapes, and hues in a very vivid way. Marinima
himself was shaded by a porch under which he sat on a large chair, while
behind him there were brown wooden panels and flowers growing from boxes.
The sky was intensely blue right overhead, but became hazy towards the horizon,
and some herringbone-patterned clouds lay in rows in sharp relief, grey
and white behind the porch. There was a long silence, then Marinima spoke
again:
"Now consider the objects of sound. Certain sounds are important to
us, some crucial for our survival, and some we ignore all our lives. Shut
your eyes and let them all come in, just hear whatever is going on."
Noel closed his eyes without question, and concentrated on listening. Birds
were singing in the trees surrounding the courtyard. Their song was urgent
and shrill, yet also peaceful. Little sounds crept into Noel's awareness,
like those from the kitchens of the Commune. Noel also noticed a faint ringing
or whistling in his ears. He realised with some surprise that Xavier's shots
from the truck had been very loud and his ears were still ringing from the
sound. Along with the memory of the shots came the feelings of anger, fear
and excitement that he had felt at the time. Marinima was speaking again:
"Objects of sight and objects of the sense of hearing are all just
objects, or maybe stimuli or data if you prefer those words. However the
mind or brain assembles the stimuli into a coherent picture of the world
where events are made up of the different types of object. One of the tricks
of meditation is to receive the stimuli without the corresponding mental
activity. Of course this must be done with care and respect for the purpose
that the mental activity serves. There is always a small risk for some people
that they will take the techniques of meditation too far and just not know
where to stop; for such people madness is a real possibility. I will remind
you of this risk from time to time, and our friend Francis will keep a careful
eye on you."
He was silent for a few moments.
"Over the next week we will keep coming back to the idea of focusing
the attention on one particular sense at a time. For now I would like you
to consider your mind. If you can accept that your senses of sight, hearing,
taste, smell, and touch simply receive the objects appropriate to them,
then maybe you could accept the idea that the mind and heart are sense organs
like the others. When I say mind and heart I don't mean the physical organs
of brain and heart, but something more abstract. Androids as we know are
equipped with electronic brains, that are intended to work in a similar
fashion to the human brain. Of course there is no equivalent to the organ
of the heart. However I am talking about a metaphysical brain and heart
if you like. And the idea that I would like you to consider is that these
sixth and seventh senses, as I like to refer to them, are simply passive
receptors for objects that are appropriate to them. For the mind of course
I mean thoughts, and for the heart I mean feelings. Whatever you think of
these ideas, try for the moment to focus on the mind in the same way as
you did on seeing and hearing, and simply receive the thought-objects."
Noel shut his eyes again and tried to do as the old man suggested. Oddly
enough no thoughts came. After a bit a thought started to emerge, but it
would not flow in the usual way. The thought was something about how odd
it was to have no thoughts. It seemed to hover in Noel's mind like something
that was waiting to be examined. After a while Noel was aware that the sounds
from the courtyard and surroundings impinged on him in an oddly brilliant
way. Marinima was talking again:
"A law in fundamental physics states that in observing a system you
must interact with it and therefore change it to some degree. The more subtle
the system the greater the degree to which you affect it. You may have noticed
this when you were trying to follow your thoughts."
He paused for a while.
"I will talk to you a little each day. For most of the time our friend
Francis will guide you through various exercises like the ones I have introduced
you to today. I will also speak to you individually at times through the
course. Thank you for listening."
Marinima rose slowly and retired to his quarters, after which the meditators
made their way to the canteen for refreshments. Noel sat still for a while;
he felt light-headed and euphoric.
A man's voice interrupted his reverie.
"Hello. How about joining me for something to eat?"
The voice belonged to a young man who had been sitting next to Noel through
the session.
"Yes. Why not," said Noel, a little absently.
They walked slowly towards the canteen, while introducing themselves. The
young man, whose name was David, was interested to know what Noel thought
about Marinima's ideas. Noel found it hard to make much comment on them.
He still felt a kind of floating feeling.
Over the next few days Noel and the young man talked more; Noel told him
that he found the course rather strange. A lot of time was spent sitting,
going through various exercises devoted to awareness of sights, sounds,
thoughts and feelings. Some exercises involved counting and paying attention
to the numbers, and as soon as the attention wandered one was to start the
counting again from one. To Noel it seemed very odd to devote so much time
to a pursuit that served no purpose for others; his droid constitution was
not geared for this constant self-preoccupation.
David was interested in Marinima's ideas about the droids.
"Its very exciting to think that one could actually prove that a droid
has consciousness," he said one day.
"Really?" said Noel.
"Yes, Marinima was saying this today. That once any programmable machine
goes beyond a certain complexity, the sheer unpredictability of its interactions
puts it beyond the level of an automaton."
"That's interesting."
"Apparently cyberneticians made calculations on it a long time ago,
and if one were to follow the proofs, one would be quite convinced. I know
that Marinima has always been saying this to his followers, but it is comforting
to have a scientific proof, don't you think?"
"I suppose so," said Noel. He pondered it for a moment and then
said:
"How would you prove that humans have consciousness though?"
David laughed.
"That's a good joke," he said.
"I didn't mean it as a joke." said Noel.
David's face fell.
"What do you mean, you don't mean it as a joke?"
Noel shrugged.
"I meant that I wasn't joking."
David stared at him.
"You must be crazy!" he shouted.
Noel looked at him, puzzled. David shook his head angrily and made to leave.
Hesitating, he turned back again as if to say something, but instead he
just shook his head again and walked off. However, the subject was raised
again the next day at the dinner table.
"In the early days of research into artificial intelligence there was
a debate about symbols and meaning," Francis started the conversation.
"Oh?" said David.
"The argument ran that you can only tell that an entity is conscious
by its responses, and that human consciousness can only be tested by human
responses, for example, a cat cannot make any comment on a beautiful painting.
The machines that they were working on could be programmed more and more
to make human responses by equipping them with the appropriate sensory systems,
speech, and a lot of knowledge. In addition, they had to be able
to connect up these pieces of knowledge, and draw conclusions, which was
seen at the time as a form of symbol processing. The arguments ran that
a machine could give no meaning to the symbols, therefore they were not
conscious. The counter-argument ran that humans don't either, they just
have a rich set of associations with symbols. They attach different degrees
of charge to certain symbols in certain contexts. A machine can be
programmed to do this too."
The diners thought about Francis' succinct summary of the ancient debate.
"I don't think it's right to talk about machines in this way in mixed
company," said a young lady, obviously embarrassed by the subject.
"Are you saying that my response to a painting is just a lot of symbol
processing?" said David, ignoring the woman's remark.
Francis turned and looked at him with a grave air.
"Just imagine a famous painting, and then consider all the associations
you have with it."
David was silent for a moment.
"Early research considered this, and termed all the associations a
frame, that is a set of data that is brought into the mind, replacing
the previous frame, which in this case may have been the associations you
placed against our friend's remark."
David frowned and nodded.
"Machines are programmed to do just that," continued Francis.
"But that doesn't make them conscious!" burst out David.
Francis smiled and turned to Noel.
"Are you conscious?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
Francis turned to the girl who had objected to the conversation, and to
the others in turn with the same question. They all responded positively.
Turning back to David, Francis asked him.
"How many consciousnesses are you aware of?"
David was puzzled for a moment and then said reluctantly:
"Well, I am only really aware of one."
"And who does it belong to?"
"Myself, I suppose."
Francis smiled again, and spoke softly.
"This shows us two things. Firstly that there is only one consciousness
that you can directly know, so a debate about the consciousness of other
beings is really a non-starter. Secondly we badly need to know who it is,
or what it is, that the consciousness belongs to. You may recall that Marinima
introduced the meditations to you with that purpose: to find out who you
are. All these questions hang on that."
The little group was silent. Only after a few moments Noel suddenly laughed
and looked at Francis, who returned his gaze for a period.
"I think I just got something," said Noel, smiling wryly.
Francis made no comment.
A few days later a newcomer joined the group: a young man called Roger Badcock.
Noel saw him after the day's exercises, looking a little bewildered and
morose, and suggested that he join them at lunch. Despite his wary exterior,
Roger was a more easy companion than David, and Noel talked a lot with him
over the following days. At first Roger would say nothing of what had brought
him to the Commune, but communicated his doubts about the meditations and
exercises.
"I'm really not sure of the point of all this. Yes, I feel good at
the end of the day, but it seems so artificial. I don't mind the fact that
the long periods of sitting are boring and uncomfortable, but how is it
going to change anything in the long run? The Continent is in such a mess,
and we are sitting about doing nothing. I mean, you're an android, it must
be pretty strange not to be working at something, and I'm not trying to
put you down or anything."
Noel liked Roger's attitude towards him: he had neither the hostile prejudice
of the ADL people, nor the confused liberal attitudes of David.
"I suppose it is a question of trust," said Noel. "Marinima
says that nothing happens immediately, but that meditation is important:
if we sort ourselves out internally we will be able to act properly when
it comes to doing something about the Continent. Just rushing out and trying
to do something would cause even greater confusion: what exactly would you
want to go out and do anyway?"
"I don't know. I really don't know. But what you say about trust: androids
are used to obeying, I'm sorry, I'm not getting at you again, but I can't
take it seriously. I've had too many people push me about, and lately I've
realised that all the people I respected and worked for, or looked up to
in some way, had no idea of what they were doing in the end. I gave up at
one point and took to NuSense: it gave me a feeling that I was in control.
Even though it was an artificial world, I at least could take a role in
it. A sense of power I suppose."
Roger looked glum.
"I don't know. I can't go back now anyway."
Roger then told Noel about his treatment, and his escape: he was wanted
by the police now.
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