Lehal Library

Hail and Farewell My curiosity was still not satisfied. I was feeling full of myself, impatient and ready for more new experiences. However, I discovered that not everything I asked for could be granted. A man who lived nearby died—or exited as I preferred to regard it—following a heart attack and his family asked me if I could locate and contact him. On my next visit to my INSPEC friend I asked for help with this but I was told such access was not possible at this time. A report in the form of a ROTE was all that could be obtained and I accepted this as satisfactory in the circumstances. Then a new question came immediately to mind, which had much to do with my own physical experience in the Here. I asked the INSPEC if I could be shown one nonphysical, nonhuman intelligence which I could talk with easily. Somewhat to my surprise, my friend offered to lead me to one and we set off through the darkness. In what seemed only a moment we flashed into a space filled with stars. Just below us was what I recognized as our moon and in the near distance was the huge blue and white marbelized globe, the Earth. I looked around. Where was this super-nonhuman intelligence? Reading the question, the INSPEC told me to look behind and above. I was astonished. Just twenty feet above me and stretching for what seemed to be miles was a huge, circular, saucer-shaped object, a typical “flying saucer” as so often described, but a thousand times larger. Much too big to credit—but as I had that thought, it shrank instantly to some two hundred feet in diameter. Then a door in the bottom slid open and a figure ... a man ... a very human-looking man, emerged and walked—yes, walked, across to where I floated. As he approached, I recognized him. Short, round, and chubby, dressed with a sort of shabby gentility and wearing a gray top hat, his nose red and bulbous, his mouth a leering grin, he was an exact replica of the star of so many comic movies I had enjoyed in the physical when I was young—W. C. Fields! This replica, projection, hologram—whatever it was—spoke like Fields as well, with the same intonations and repetitions. He invited me aboard, and showed me into what appeared as a large, domed room with pictures on its walls of every comedian I had ever heard of, and many more of whom I hadn’t, together with thousands of scribbled jokes and cartoons. He described all this as his cargo. I framed the question in my mind. “Cargo? What do you mean, cargo? And,” I continued, “you can drop the impersonation. I can take you exactly as you are.” “You really mean it, don’t you ... But I’ll keep it if you don’t mind. It helps me to think like a human. Or would you prefer someone else? Groucho Marx, perhaps?” “No, no. Stay as you are. Tell me, what are you doing, hanging around Earth?” “My boy, I’m an exporter.” "Isee. What do you have that we need—apart from this spaceship?” "Imust have used the term wrong. I export from here, not to, my friend.” “What possible thing could we have that is valuable to you? You’re obviously way ahead of our technology. You use thought communication. We have nothing you could want or need.” He scratched his nose. “Well, sir, it’s not easy to get it, but I do, yes sir, I do. We don’t have any, and you can’t imagine how valuable something is if you don’t have any.” “Don’t have any what?” “[ve been gathering it for ages. It used to be very rare, but there’s more of it about now.” “You’ve lost me.” “Sometimes you need to know the civilization to understand it, that’s one of the problems.” "Istill don’t see ...” “You humans have it, and it’s very rare and valuable among the rest of the intelligent species in what you call the physical universe— and elsewhere. Very rare and valuable, sir. I’m a specialist in collection. You don’t understand, I see! Let me explain.” “Please do.” “Tt’s a one-in-a-million product and you humans have it. A sense of humor! Jokes! Fun! The best tonic there is for overloaded mind systems. It auto-erases the tension and pressure almost every time it’s used!” “So ... you cruise around among us looking for the newest and latest ...?” “Exactly! You humans catch sight of our collection units every now and then and get the wrong idea. You even make UFO jokes about us! All we want to do is look and listen—nothing else. Apart from the odd practical joke—just to keep in training. And now, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I must be on my way.” Suddenly I found myself outside the spaceship, which was rapidly diminishing into the far distance. I homed in on my INSPEC friend, who was waiting for me in the deep darkness. Now I knew that at least humans have one unique quality. You managed that well. But there is another matter that occupies your mind. You have a hidden desire that you are trying to express. Yes ... there is one that I would like to visit. You know what I mean. The most mature and evolved human in physical earth, living in your time reference. That is so. Can it be done? Yes, but the result may not be what you expect. I wish to try, all the same. I shall lead you. I followed the dwindling curl of light through the darkness, for I don’t know how long. Suddenly I was in a room, a normal sort of room, sparsely furnished with a few chairs and easy chairs and a table. Two large windows allowed in rays of sunlight; outside there appeared to be a stand of tall trees. It could be anywhere on Earth. At a desk on one side of the room sat a person. I couldn’t tell whether it was male or female; the face and body structure could be either. The face was almost unlined, the hair light brown and down just around the ears; the age somewhere between thirty and fifty, as far as I could tell. The clothing was simple, a white shirt and dark slacks. But it was the radiation that stunned me. It was like standing in bright spring sunlight that was filled with every human emotion that ever existed. It was almost overwhelming—and yet familiar. It was equally balanced. One moment it was male, then I was sure it was female. A true equal—a He/She. Heshe! The radiation closed off. Heshe—there had to be a name—looked up. The eyes were bottomless; I could detect no expression or emission. The control was perfect, yet I could not understand the reason for the restraint. The lips didn’t move, but I heard. I was expecting this now. There was a warm chuckle in what I understood. “Heshe? I’ve never had that name before.” "Imeant no disrespect. I didn’t know what to call you.” “One name is as good as another. Now, do you really believe I can be of help to you?” "Ialways hoped that you could.” “In what way?” “To answer a few questions ...” “What good would my answers be to you?” "I... [don’t know ...” “You insist others obtain their own answers. Why should you be different?” This struck home. It was as if my bluff had been called. “You're right. What I’m really interested in is you, not answers to my questions.” "Iam only one of your statistics. One of the one-in-a-million types. Your friend has done well in locating me.” "Iperceive you as occidental, yet no one on Earth really believes you exist. But ... we have met before ... just once ... haven’t we?” “You see? You are answering your own questions.” “Yet ... you have lived only one physical lifetime. You have not been recycled, like the rest of us. But ... how do I know these things?” “You are reading my mind.” “Only a part of it, and with your permission, I’m sure. One continuous lifetime, for eighteen hundred years! How do you stay ... young?” "Ikeep changing jobs. That keeps anyone young. Is that a good answer?” “A great one. What a pleasure to meet you this way! What is your job now, if it may be called that?” “You might call me an organizer, or facilitator, whichever you like.” “With your ability, I would think there is much you can do at this very moment.” "Ikeep busy.” “What ...? No, I can read it ... you drive an ambulance, you’re a late-night bartender, a psychiatric counselor ... and you’re just on your way to teach history at the university. And there’s more.” "Ilike people.” “Wait ... you flew gliders once, at Harris Hill ... I think I remember you. That’s where it was!” “Just having a little fun.” “Where do you eat and sleep?” "Igave those up years ago.” “You must conduct fascinating lectures in history.” "Itry to amuse, and confuse, with contradictions.” “Your next job ... what kind of job will it be?” “Organizing, naturally. Introducing a Variable, just as you do. Such as this book, or the mind-altering programs you disseminate—all add a Variable into the lives of those who encounter them. Now, instead of all the questions, why don’t you read what needs organizing and the goals to be achieved? I can give you what you call a ROTE about that, about a plan that doesn’t involve communism or socialism, capitalism or dictatorship.” “They say it can’t be done.” “That is what makes it worth the effort. It needs a unified worldwide human endeavor. This will happen through recognized necessity, not through religions, race, or political beliefs, or force of arms.” “Necessity is severe stuff. The world would have to be in rough shape.” “That is the reason for waiting. The time will come.” “But worldwide, humans have never agreed on anything.” There was a sudden surge of energy, similar to what I had felt previously. As it faded, I knew the ROTE was in place, ready to be unrolled when the time was right. I had one more question for Heshe. “When you have time, what about organizing the energy where we work? We need it.” “You do not really need it, but I will do my best.” “Will you be in physical form?” “Certainly. But you will not recognize me.” “You know I will try.” “Of course, Ashaneen. And I will be ready for you. You cannot find me again unless I agree. And now I am due at the university.” “Thank you so very much. Will I see you again soon?” “No. Not for a while.” Heshe, the Organizer, turned and left without a backward look. Reluctantly I searched for my INSPEC friend, but I could not obtain a fix on any radiation. I was aware it was time to return to the physical, which I accomplished with no trouble. Once there, I sat up, stretched my arms—and suddenly realized I had been given a clue. Heshe had called me Ashaneen. Or was it a clever misdirection, just for the fun of it? Now I look carefully at every stranger who comes to visit us. Perhaps I should have made a bet!