Read Online Gods of Riverworld by Philip José Farmer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Philip José Farmer
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self-consciousness and held its immortal part.
Each was invisible unless seen with a special device, in this situation the polarized material of the wellwall. They were glowing spheres of many colors and hues, with tentacles that shot out and contracted as the spheres whirled. Seemed to whirl, rather. Burton and de Marbot were not seeing the reality, the whole; they were seeing what their brains could grasp, a reshaping formed by their nervous systems.
The wathans, the souls, danced or seemed to dance, whirling, glowing, changing colors, passing through one another, occasionally seeming to coalesce and form a super wathan, which broke up into the original spheres after a few seconds.
Were they, when free of the human bodies, their hosts, conscious? Did they think when in this free state? No one knew. None of those who had been dead remembered anything of their existence when they were resurrected and the wathan was united again with the physical body.
The two stood rapt for a while before the awesome wonder surely unsurpassed in the universe.
“To think,” Burton murmured, “that I have been part of that spectacle, that glory, many times.”
“And to think,” de Marbot said, “that if the Ethicals had not made these, our bodies would have been dust for thousands of years and would have stayed dust until even dust had died.”
Far below, seen dimly through the coruscating nebula, was a great gray mass. It seemed to be shapeless, but Loga had assured them that it was not.
“That is the top of the titanic mass of organized protein that is the central part of the Computer,” he had said. “It is the living but unselfconscious brain, the body of which is the tower and the grailstones and the resurrection chamber.”
The “brain” was not, however, shaped like the human brain when within the skull.
“It resembles, more than anything, one of your great Gothic cathedrals with its flying buttresses and spires and gargoyle-decorated exterior and doors and windows. It is enveloped in water holding sugar in suspension. The brain would collapse and become a gray ooze if the liquid were removed. It is a lovely thing to see, and you must do so sometime.”
It must be vast indeed to be visible from where they stood, and through the glowing wathans. It was three miles below them, and they could see only a part of the top as a gray cloud. The rest of it occupied an expanded part of the well, a dome.
So far, the tenants had not ventured to the level where they could view the brain in its entirety. Nor did Burton plan on going there now. Instead, he returned to his chair and led his companion to the other side of the tower and down a shaft. Burton counted the levels passed—he had counted them during his first ascent from the level that was his destination—until he came to the one containing Loga’s hidden room.
Before reaching the room, Burton stopped his chair. The Frenchman pulled up alongside him and said, “What is it?”
Burton shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He could see no mobile wall-screen, but the unknown might have other ways to monitor them. Even if he was not watching them now, it was probable that the Computer was recording their actions for later viewing.
They entered a big laboratory containing equipment whose functions Burton did not know—except for four huge gray metal cabinets. These were energy-matter converters. Their walls held all the needed circuits. In fact, the walls were the circuitry. Their power came through orange circles on the floor, which were matched to the orange circles in the center of the cabinet bottoms. Two cabinets were permanently attached to the floor, but the others could be taken from the room. Not, however, by the muscle power of two men alone.
Burton turned his chair, and, followed by de Marbot, flew out of the room and through the corridor past the wall behind which was Loga’s hidden room. De Marbot must have wondered why Burton did not stop there,
Each was invisible unless seen with a special device, in this situation the polarized material of the wellwall. They were glowing spheres of many colors and hues, with tentacles that shot out and contracted as the spheres whirled. Seemed to whirl, rather. Burton and de Marbot were not seeing the reality, the whole; they were seeing what their brains could grasp, a reshaping formed by their nervous systems.
The wathans, the souls, danced or seemed to dance, whirling, glowing, changing colors, passing through one another, occasionally seeming to coalesce and form a super wathan, which broke up into the original spheres after a few seconds.
Were they, when free of the human bodies, their hosts, conscious? Did they think when in this free state? No one knew. None of those who had been dead remembered anything of their existence when they were resurrected and the wathan was united again with the physical body.
The two stood rapt for a while before the awesome wonder surely unsurpassed in the universe.
“To think,” Burton murmured, “that I have been part of that spectacle, that glory, many times.”
“And to think,” de Marbot said, “that if the Ethicals had not made these, our bodies would have been dust for thousands of years and would have stayed dust until even dust had died.”
Far below, seen dimly through the coruscating nebula, was a great gray mass. It seemed to be shapeless, but Loga had assured them that it was not.
“That is the top of the titanic mass of organized protein that is the central part of the Computer,” he had said. “It is the living but unselfconscious brain, the body of which is the tower and the grailstones and the resurrection chamber.”
The “brain” was not, however, shaped like the human brain when within the skull.
“It resembles, more than anything, one of your great Gothic cathedrals with its flying buttresses and spires and gargoyle-decorated exterior and doors and windows. It is enveloped in water holding sugar in suspension. The brain would collapse and become a gray ooze if the liquid were removed. It is a lovely thing to see, and you must do so sometime.”
It must be vast indeed to be visible from where they stood, and through the glowing wathans. It was three miles below them, and they could see only a part of the top as a gray cloud. The rest of it occupied an expanded part of the well, a dome.
So far, the tenants had not ventured to the level where they could view the brain in its entirety. Nor did Burton plan on going there now. Instead, he returned to his chair and led his companion to the other side of the tower and down a shaft. Burton counted the levels passed—he had counted them during his first ascent from the level that was his destination—until he came to the one containing Loga’s hidden room.
Before reaching the room, Burton stopped his chair. The Frenchman pulled up alongside him and said, “What is it?”
Burton shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He could see no mobile wall-screen, but the unknown might have other ways to monitor them. Even if he was not watching them now, it was probable that the Computer was recording their actions for later viewing.
They entered a big laboratory containing equipment whose functions Burton did not know—except for four huge gray metal cabinets. These were energy-matter converters. Their walls held all the needed circuits. In fact, the walls were the circuitry. Their power came through orange circles on the floor, which were matched to the orange circles in the center of the cabinet bottoms. Two cabinets were permanently attached to the floor, but the others could be taken from the room. Not, however, by the muscle power of two men alone.
Burton turned his chair, and, followed by de Marbot, flew out of the room and through the corridor past the wall behind which was Loga’s hidden room. De Marbot must have wondered why Burton did not stop there,
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