Read Online Bonshoon: A Tale of the Final Fall of Man by Andrew Hindle - Free Book Online

perceptions according to communication and learning?” Glomulus asked mildly. “How did the rest of you get into space?”
    Decay blinked. “Well, there’s a distinction between developmental education and the sort of repetition-based perception of absolute truth that-”
    “Although now that I think about it, you were sort of pushed into space when your solar system burned out, right?” Glomulus went on. “And filling up big hollowed-out bits of your planets with air and then just floating off, well – that doesn’t really count, does it? As for the Fergunak and the aki’Drednanth, they were basically carried into space by Damorakind, so…” he shrugged, then grinned. “I guess there’s a certain benefit to the philosophy of being a cork in the river, just bobbing along wherever the stream takes you. In my experience it’s not exactly the human way. So maybe you’re right. Maybe it is unique.”
    “Of course, humans were ‘basically carried into space’ by the Fleet,” Decay pointed out.
    “Fair to say, fair to say,” Glomulus said, “although there’s rather compelling evidence to suggest that we were already modestly spacefaring, and a lot of the big technological leaps actually came from us just before you got our homeworld blown up, and you gave us a ride out of combined guilt and gratitude.”
    “Human reality script in action,” Decay said enthusiastically. “Communication has been such a huge factor in separating you from the lower orders of animals for so long, it occupies an extremely dominant part of the psychological make-up. So when a human communicates in these specialised ways, the communication in and of itself takes on such importance-”
    “What factors separate other species from the lower orders?” Glomulus inquired. “I mean, if not spoken and written language? And aside from your amazing metaflux joke.”
    “Oh, I don’t know,” Decay replied. “I hear good things about the way Molranoids can agree with humans just to stop them from jabbering, and then calmly default to a rational system of beliefs and values,” he raised a hand to his ear. “Although the ability to balance an entire dinner service on the tops of our heads is also not to be sneezed at,” he added dryly.
    “It does seem unfair that you can do that,” Glomulus conceded, “since you already have twice as many hands as we do,” he let his face grow serious. “I’m not sure how ignoring the input and experiences of others is much of an evolutionary trait.”
    “You’re probably right.”
    Glomulus grinned. “Well played, if – I have to say – somewhat formulaic.”
    “Anyway, there are plenty of different markers,” Decay said, “it’s not really my department. I am strictly a keen but amateur enthusiast. And this isn’t to say that communication isn’t important at all – on the contrary. It’s the response to it that distinguishes the human condition. When a human writes something again and again and again, the words become nonsense … and at the same time, they subconsciously imprint as a fact , no matter how inapplicable or illogical, around which the human behavioural model will begin to shape itself. I call it cerebral dysphasic credulosis ,” he gave a little laugh. “It’s just the name I gave to the mental state, it’s not medically valid in any way. And again, it’s intended constructively, not as any sort of criticism.”
    “I doubt anybody would be particularly interested in seeing my reality script,” Glomulus remarked.
    “Well, considering the general perception of your reality script among the crew…” General Moral Decay (Alcohol) spread his lower pair of hands in a little shrug. “I don’t usually go for this ‘birthday’ thing that humans put so much stock in,” he went on, “but when I’m asked if I want some sort of gift for my birthday, I have taken to asking people to try this writing experiment I was just telling you about.”
    “I don’t go for