Aboriginal Science Fiction, Issues 57–58 — page 50: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

granum frumenti? ‘Unless a grain of wheat fall on the ground and dies, it remains just one grain. But if it dies it vields a great harvest.’ It was that passage in the Gospel of Saint John which drew me to accept your Faith. Until I read that passage, your Earth religion did not seem to have much to do with me as a Pelan. But now I see that Christ was speaking to me, too, even as | hid from my nature on your planet. I must, like the grain, die to myself so that many new lives can come forth.” What bone-chilling blasphemy! Gene pulled away from her and ran blindly back inside the creche. He felt like a frightened child hiding in the body of a 61-year- old man. His heart was beating furiously, ticking away his life, moving that last, black wall closer with each pulse. Repchal found him wandering through the halls. She said, “Go back to the shuttle before you cause any more harm.” He looked at her as if she were a marble statue. Then he realized she would one day share the same fate that was taking Ursula from him. Gene was a bit surprised to hear himself asking her, “Repchal, what becomes of your soul when you die?” She passed her hand through her thick goldenrod mane, just as Ursula would have. “When we awaken there are many gifts. Our clan’s ageless wisdom has accumulated in us. When we are wed, that wisdom passes to the next generation.” “Do you mean that you have all your mother’s mem- ories?” “No, only her learning, and thus, the learning of countless generations. When we awaken, it is to the light of our entire civilization.” “Then you know the souls of all your ancestors, the personal memories.” “Personal memories are only darkness. In childhood they block out all learning.” “Do you believe in a personal soul? Is there some- thing of the individual who you are that lives on after you die?” “Most Reverend Eugene Hespeler, please go back to the shuttle. Your questions are unwelcome.” “Because you have no answers?” Repchal paused as if to digest his question. She said, “Please follow me. I will show you our nest. Do not touch anything you see.” He followed her to the room full of open caskets. What he saw in there made him think of crabs clicking and devouring softer creatures. There were bodies in some of the boxes. Here was one being excavated by bloated larvae. As the varr grew larger they developed shel] casings. A large varr with a shell so heavy and closed that it could hardly move was busy eating through the leathery bag of one of its siblings. In a box with a fresh body there were seemingly hundreds of tiny varr. In the next box the mother’s body was gone, replaced by nine or ten egg-like varr. How could Ursula be a part of this horror? A weeping sound came from a box deeper in the room. There were eight mottled shells inside, some- what translucent. One was broken open. Curled up inside the half- absorbed shell fragment was a tiny Pelan. Its hatching cry no longer sounded like human sobbing. 50 Aboriginal Science Fiction — Summer 1998 Gene moved carefully away. Repchal closed the door behind them and waited angrily. When Gene remained silent, she said, “To answer your question, there is nothing left over. All that we are is consumed and passed on to our clan. When I am wed, what I have contributed will live on in my children. All that I have learned since awakening, all that passed to me from my mother’s body will be reborn. My personal memories are only emotions written on the wind of time, but our soul knowledge is immortal.” Repchal suddenly lightened and said with a laugh, “My own children will know you were here, but they will not know of my anger at you. Isn't it better that way? Yeracl has brought back much new learning from your planet. In time, through her children, that knowl- edge will pass into all of our clan and become a part of our shared heritage.” “What will become of her Faith?” “The information will be transmitted; the decision to believe or reject it will be up to each child as it awak- ens.” Gene smiled thinly. “Yerac]l has become a Christian. It would help her to find peace if I could give her the last rites of our Faith before she is wed.” “If Yeracl insists,” said Repchal, “the Torg will per- mit it. But Most Reverend Eugene Hespeler, you intrude beyond decency.” When Gene found Ursula, he was relieved to see she still wore her pectoral shield. Memories of the POW camp executions in Kentucky darkened his mind as he put on his stole to hear her last confession. She wasn’t strapped to a gurney. There was no IV link in her arm, but, just the same, she would be dead within the hour. After her confession, Ursula said, “I believe I have a personal destiny that God will preserve intact. It is not just the knowledge I will transmit through my body. Neither is it only what my people reject as ‘personal memories.” The Most Reverend Eugene Hespeler, C.R., Bishop of Hamilton, Bermuda, completed the last rites with one further sacrament. He ordained Ursula as a priest. Her children would need that. J Bundle Your Set Back Issues op <=ea\ And Save — Get Issues 19, 20, 21 & 22 for only °18.% Order From: Aboriginal SF Set #4 P.O. Box 2449 Woburn, MA 01888 wd. Gomiic <S COM