“You will see it, I believe.
“They appear to be telepathic with one another. Since the Sirius L’vrai are in possession of information that L’vrai on Achernar and Earth learned only months ago, then their telepathic messages must travel at greater speeds than that of light. Perhaps instantaneously.”
“Impossible by information theory,” Simmons said.
“How interesting. Their telepathy works only imperfectly with human beings; evidently they can read our minds only at some preconscious level.”
“Can you be sure of this?” Tshombe asked. “We will be at a considerable disadvantage in negotiating if our thoughts are open to him.”
“There is objective evidence of a sort. When the L’vrai first appeared in human form, they . . . their sexual parts were exaggerated in a way that suggested the totems of primitive peoples. And they were unblemished, handsome idealizations of the self-images of the people with whom they were in contact.
“I myself saw this L’vrai take the form of his communicant’s-“ nodding at Jacque-“father. Evidently to inspire trust. It was the image of his father when the Tamer was a small, vulnerable boy.
“The L’vrai, the one who spoke with us, only used the first person singular pronoun-even when referring to his entire race. This means either that the race literally has only one consciousness-“
“Patently—“
“-or that his syntax reflects a philosophy that subordinates the individual’s worth to the idea of his membership in some larger group, or his relationship to a spiritually higher-“
A golden snake slithered through the open door.
The blood drained from Simmons’s face.
Silverman crossed herself.
Mossadegh clutched his throat.
Svenbjorg put out her cigarette and Tshombe raised one eyebrow.
The serpent’s head weaved at their level for a few moments. Then it continued drifting toward Jacque. Its scales hissed on the rough concrete.
Musky smell of nervous sweat.
“Is it . . .” Silverman began.
“Is it what?” Bahadur said.
“Is it going to hurt him?”
“Not physically. I don’t think. If it does we know how to kill it.”
The L’vrai raised itself as if to strike, towering over Jacque. Jacque bared his teeth and started to rise.
Then the snake blurred and melted and reformed as a bent old man clad in a white toga. His face was full of benevolent wrinkles and he had only a few strands of white hair. He could have been any race: his skin was the color of age and his features the’ shape of a saint’s.
The illusion would have been perfect except that the toga showed a barely perceptible network of yellow veins.
It reached into the bowl and took out the bridge, then offered it to Jacque. Jacque touched it and snapped to his feet, galvanized, face and body rigid with pain. Then he slumped back onto the stool and began to speak.
“You are curious about me. Ask anything.”
Tshombe’s voice was flat and authoritative: “Why are you here? What do you want with us?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘here.’ I am in this region of space because I am expanding my sphere of influence, as you are. I am in this room for your convenience. To explain your situation.”
“And what do you mean by ‘I’?” Svenbjorg said. “Is there only one of you, or many?”
“In your sense there are many, there are billions. But really there is only one. Only L’vrai.”
“Which brings us back to where we started,” Bahadur said. “Do you mean this in a literal sense? If we killed half your billions you would not be diminished?”
“Only in the potential for exploring and manipulating the volume of space that surrounds me. If only one of me was left it would still be completely me, L’vrai.
“This could be true of humans as well. In a sense, it is true. You blind yourselves to it.”
“Theology,” Hawkeye Simmons muttered.
“No,” the L’vrai said, “it’s a simple fact. I am many but I am one. All identical.”
“What you mean is that you’re clones. All stamped out of the same mold.”
Jacque was silent while the creature searched his brain for the term. “In no sense. I am only one and have always been only one. Only L’vrai.”