The Course of Empire(205)

He gave Kinsey a level stare, disconcerting in its complete neutrality. "You are doing very well, Professor. Matching my hopes. Tell me what else strikes you about this matter."



"Well . . . it seems like—if you'll forgive me for saying so—a positively grotesque way for an intelligent species to have to breed. Having to dope yourselves, I mean, in effect. Uh, 'to dope' means—"



"I know what it means, Professor. It is quite an accurate characterization. And does it strike you as plausible that such a characteristic would evolve in an intelligent species? Or any animal species, for that matter."



Kinsey thought about it, for a moment.



"No, not to that extent. Certainly not in an animal with a highly developed nervous system. It's true that all animal species, so far as I know, require a chemical component for their sexual activity. But not anything that intricate and artificial. It's counterevolutionary, actually."



He took a deep breath. "The Ekhat designed you that way, didn't they? Manipulated your genetic structure."



"Yes. And embedded it so deeply in the Jao genome that it has—so far, at least—proven impossible for the Bond's genetic technicians to find any way to circumvent. Oh, yes, Doctor Kinsey—we have certainly tried. For well over three of your centuries, now, once we finally realized the truth."



The Preceptor's whiskers and ears moved, in what Kinsey thought was a subtle, Harrier-like way of indicating amused-chagrin. "The Bond must not procreate, Professor, lest we lose our use and purpose by developing what would amount to kochan ties and attitudes. Which we most surely would, if we began producing crechelings of our own instead of relying upon the kochan to provide us with recruits. But we have no superstitious prohibition against engaging in sexual activity for its own pleasure. As did—I am sure this analogy has come to you also, by now—the militant monastic orders of your own history."



He emitted a little sigh, and, for the first time, Kinsey realized how old the Preceptor was. Still very fit-looking, but genuinely aged. "In truth, Professor, given the often severe emotional strains upon Bond members, it would be a blessing for us if we could. But, sadly, we can't—because there is no way, so far as we have been able to discover thus far, for a Jao to do what humans do routinely: separate copulation from procreation."



Kinsey didn't know what to say. To extend his commiseration would be . . . presumptuous at the very least.



"But all this is preface, Professor. Tell me, now, what is the point of everything I have unveiled to you. And why I summoned you here, and took you into such close confidence."



Without even thinking about the propriety or lack thereof, Kinsey rose to his feet and began pacing slowly. As he always did, whether at home on in a lecture hall, when trying to bring some problem into clear focus.



It didn't take him long. Perhaps a minute.



"It's obvious, isn't it? What else did the Ekhat breed into you? What other limitations—far less obvious ones—did they make sure you would always possess?"



The Preceptor lowered his head. "Indeed. That is the true concern of the Bond of Ebezon, and always our greatest fear." He waved his hand, casually. "Our other work is also important, to be sure. But this may, when the flow arrives, prove to be our downfall. To point to something obvious: Why are Jao generally so unimaginative? There is nothing mystical about 'ollnat,' after all. It is not as if humans possess magic powers. There seems no obvious reason—especially given our much greater experience—that we should not have developed the idea of using simple kinetic weapons to stop an Ekhat extermination before it even started."



"It could just be a cultural trait," Kinsey pointed out. "Societies structured along clan lines are usually very conservative. That's been the human pattern, at least."



"To be sure. But perhaps it is genetic—and how do we tell which it is? Given that we are in the midst of a great war for our very survival and do not have the luxury of leisurely research. The time will come, be sure of this—our strength grows against Ekhat—when even the Ekhat, in their unsanity, will realize they must unite against us. What then, Professor? What hidden Achilles' Heel will they strike at? Which they know about, because they implanted it in us, and we do not?"



He leaned forward, his posture intent. "And—put yourself in my position, for a moment—what would be the best possible preventive countermeasure?"



That, too, was now obvious. "Find another species. One that you know is completely out of Ekhat control. But also—this must be much rarer in the galaxy than simple intelligence—one which is culturally and technologically on more or less your own level. A constant challenge to you—a partner, if you will, instead of another subject. Even a quarrelsome partner—one which you cannot, in the end, control either."