The thought made him slightly nervous. It seemed impossible that he was being offered total freedom. Yet the plant’s mind was open to him; there could be no deception.
“We are free to use the Reapers against the spiders?”
“If that is what you decide.”
Niall envisaged returning to the city of the beetles and mobilising the menfolk to fight against the spiders. He imagined the attack on the spider city, and the destruction of the headquarters of the Death Lord. He could picture the spiders fleeing to the countryside in panic, and then being hunted down one by one. And then men would unite in freedom to rebuild the city. With the aid of the white tower, they would rediscover the secrets of the past, so they need never again be afraid of the spiders. Lights would blaze in the tall buildings. Happy children would play in the parks. Men and women would throng the pavements, going about their daily business, and there would be no sinister spider webs overhead. Man would once again resume his rightful position as the lord of the earth. . . It was a dazzling vision, and it filled him with almost ecstatic delight.
“And what then?”
The question interrupted his train of thought, so that for a moment he failed to take it in. He repeated blankly:
“What then?”
“What will men do when they are masters of the earth?”
The question struck him as pointless. Surely the answer was obvious? They would build a new civilisation and live in peace. “As they did in the past?”
Niall found these questions disturbing. Since the empress plant could read his mind, why was she bothering to ask?
“To make you reflect. When you leave here you will be free to do whatever you please. But before you decide, I want you to think of the consequences.”
Niall shook his head. “It is true that men of the past fought endless wars. But in the century before they left the earth, there were no wars.”
A silence followed; Niall waited for the next question. But when none came, he found himself thinking about what he had just said. It was true there had been no more wars; the old man in the white tower had told him that. But the old man had also said: “By the time men left the earth, they had still not solved the secret of happiness.” The words echoed in Niall’s memory as clearly as if they had just been spoken. So did another sentence: “A famous biologist wrote a book asserting that men would finally die of boredom.”
Niall said: “I shall not die of boredom. I shall use the thought mirror to learn to control my own mind.”
“You will. But what about the others?”
This question was accompanied by an image of Doggins. It was then that Niall understood why the plant was asking questions: not to learn what he thought, but to make him aware of what he thought.
He said: “Surely they can also learn?” But he recognised his lack of conviction as he spoke.
“Do you think they will learn more easily if they become masters of the earth?” Niall was silent. “You have seen what happened when the spiders and bombardier beetles became too successful. What makes you think men are different?”
Niall said slowly: “Men are different. They are not as lazy as the spiders.”
“Perhaps so. But that is because their freedom is limited. Have you never noticed that men are at their best when they have only a limited amount of freedom? Then they fight and struggle for more. When do you make your greatest efforts — when you have to struggle for what you want, or when you are free to do exactly as you like? If men are suddenly presented with too much freedom, they feel confused and lose their sense of purpose.”
Niall said nothing; he knew it was true.
“What do you think would happen if men destroyed the spiders? Try to imagine what it would be like. At first they would be delighted with their freedom. They would rebuild their cities and burn all the spider webs and hold great celebrations. Then they would begin to teach themselves all the things the spiders have forbidden — how to make aeroplanes and ocean liners and space transports. But within a few years they would forget what it was like to be a slave of the spiders. They would begin to take their freedom for granted. And their grandchildren would go out looking for adventure, because they were beginning to feel bored. You know that it has all happened before. Do you want to make it happen all over again?”
Niall shook his head; his inner certainties were beginning to evaporate.
“Not all human beings are like that.”
“Do you know any who are not?”
When he thought about it, he had to admit that he didn’t. He thought of Kazak, with his desire for power, of Ingeld, with her haughtiness and vanity, of Merlew with her egotism and love of her own way, and it was obvious that the plant was right. Even the good-natured Doggins had his curious limitations: a kind of crude self-assertiveness, and total blindness to his own shortcomings. “Then what do you want us to do?”
But even as he asked the question, he knew what the answer would be.
“You have to decide for yourself.”
“But you are saying that we must learn to live with the spiders?”
There was no reply and he took this for assent. As he thought about it, he was struck by an idea. “If we drove them out of the city, perhaps we could force them to make a truce, just as they did with the beetles?”
“No. That is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because to drive them out of the city you would need to use the Reapers. And as soon as you use the Reapers against the spiders, you will be starting a process that you cannot control. You will be forced to go on until you have destroyed them.”
Niall could see that this made sense. In the eyes of the spiders, a man with a Reaper was like a deadly snake; he would inspire fear and loathing. Sooner or later, the spiders would react with aggression, and then men would be forced to destroy them.
“But if we cannot use the Reapers, how can we force the spiders to give us our freedom?”
“I cannot answer that. You must reflect on it until you see the answer.”
Niall felt a wave of anger and frustration. He seemed to be trapped in a spider web of logic, in which every possible solution contained a flaw. His deepest impulse was to destroy the spiders. But if the spiders were destroyed, man would become master of the earth. And man was not yet ready to become master of the earth. For that, he would need far greater control over his own mind. And he would achieve that control far more easily if the spiders remained on earth, to remind him that he must strive to retain his freedom. It seemed an absurd paradox, but man needed the spiders more than the spiders needed man.
If man used the Reapers, then the spiders would be destroyed. But if man destroyed the Reapers, what would prevent the spiders from taking their revenge, and destroying the creatures who had come so close to destroying them?
There seemed to be no solution; Niall made an effort to control an increasing sense of desperation.
“Is there nothing you can do to help?”
There was silence, but this time he felt a flicker of hope; it was as if the empress plant was reflecting on his question. Then he experienced a faint tingling sensation in the skin of his forehead. It reminded him of something; for a moment he was unable to remember what. Then, as the tingling increased, he remembered. It was the sensation of felt pads pressing against his forehead in the white tower. Suddenly, he was aware of his body lying on the ground, with his head pillowed against the foot of the stump. Then there was a sensation as if he was floating clear of his body, while the tingling increased until it became an intense glow of pleasure. This time, he was aware of what was happening. The plant was making an immense effort to raise the level of the life-vibration, until it could be absorbed directly by the human organism. But it was almost impossible; the plant itself was not on a high enough level to transform the crude life-force of the earth into the intense vibrations required to stimulate the human brain. There was something heroically self-destructive in its efforts to raise him to a higher level of perception.
Then something happened; as the plant’s energy flagged, another force seemed to take over. With absurd ease, it filled Niall’s brain with a flood of white light, in the midst of which there was a sound not unlike the vibration of a gong. Then, once again, it was as if the sun had risen from below some horizon of his inner being, and he was flooded with a sensation of overwhelming power, surging up from his own depths. This immense power was attempting to force itself through the narrow doorway of his body, as some roaring torrent might try to force its way out of a narrow canyon. Mixed with the exultation there was the recognition that if this continued, his body would be destroyed. But this appeared unimportant; his body seemed a mere encumbrance.