Read Online The Fenris Device by Brian Stableford - Free Book Online

manner—simply because he was resident in my brain didn’t mean that he had to put my interests before his own.
    So you were a Gallacellan, I said.
    That’s right.
    When?
    I don’t know. Their system of measuring time isn’t easily translated into your terms. I had no way of measuring time myself while I was trapped on the world on the edge of the Drift. But I’d estimate that the last time I looked through a Gallacellan set of eyes was about...say, twelve hundred years. Give or take....
    Never mind. I get the idea. You were a long time stranded.
    Longer than you.
    Just a bit. The Gallacellan crashed there too, hey?
    He was passing by, just like you. The distortion pitched him down, just like you. It was a long wait, but I didn’t really notice it. One doesn’t, you know, when one is in one’s gaseous phase.
    No, I said, I don’t suppose one does.
    I was giving fast consideration to the matter of how far I should take the inquisition. My curiosity about the wind’s past history had been awakened to the full by his dropping that one hint into this one situation—as he had known it would be. How much did I need to know? How much did I want to know?
    OK, I said, I’m hooked. How long were you a Gallacellan7
    Not long.
    Only one host?
    Yes. The Gallacellan picked me up on my homeworld. The home-world of my species, that is. They picked quite a number of us up, I believe. But not enough of us to make a galactic civilization. That will have to wait. Given a million years, though....
    You live that long?
    I won’t. I’ll die out here alone, unless I can get back to my home-world to breed, in which case I’ll die there. Not alone.
    The significance of the last words did not escape me. The significance of the whole story, in fact, was not escaping me. If enough of these things (I counted the wind a person rather than a thing, but he was in a unique position of privilege—the rest still ranked “thing”) ever got out of their home-world on any sort of scale, not a mind in the galaxy would remain inviolate. The implications were far too vast for me to take time out to consider right then. There were smaller, simpler things which I needed to understand.
    So what do you know about Gallacellans? I asked.
    All of it?
    Not all of it. Just sort out a few choice tidbits that you think I might be interested to know. Things which might help me understand all this garbage about Fenris devices and scuttled starship.
    Well, he said, I don’t know that I can help much. I just don’t know. If you’d let me give you free access, well, it might save a lot of tedious dialogue, but for once I agree with you. In this particular mess, you can’t spare the time—how long do you think it will be, by the way, before this fool with the armory realizes we’re not getting anywhere? Anyhow. Gallacellans. When I was one, they used weapons. Not only that, but they were inordinately fond of weapons. As you know—or perhaps only suspect—the Gallacellans and their ancestors had a rough time during the evolutionary process. They lived on a hard world. Selective pressure was high, and for once it was highest with the underdogs. They evolved their intelligence faster and better than the predators and the ubiquitous scavengers. They began civilized life as a fugitive, defensive-minded, very order-minded species. It didn’t take long for them to crack all their problems and invent big guns for dealing with any and all natural enemies. They slaughtered the lot and were inordinately pleased with themselves. This is history, you understand, and ancient history so far as my host was concerned. I’m adding a little perspective for you so you can understand better.
    Yes, I know. Go on.
    Well, as I said, the Gallacellans, when they first started carving out a galactic culture, were great fans of weaponry. Defensive weaponry, of course. But you know the old, old