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So far so good. He made it around the first circuit in what had to be record speed.
Oh, a few times they asked him some questions. What was his earliest memory? Did he enjoy his profession? Was he satisfied with the physical form of this generation of neo-chimpanzee, or might it be improved somehow? Would a prehensile tail be a convenient aid in tool use, for instance?stick flags
Gailet would have been proud of the way he remained polite, even then. Or at least he hoped she'd be proud of him.
Of course the Galactic officials had his entire record- genetic, scholastic, military-and were able to access it the moment he passed a group of startled Talon Soldiers on the bayside bluffs and strode through the outer barriers to meet his first test.
When a tall, treelike Kanten asked him about the note he had left, that night when he "escaped" from imprisonment, it was clear that the Institute was capable stick flagsof subpoenaing the invaders' records as well. He answered truthfully that Gailet had worded the document but that he had understood its purpose and concurred.
The Kanten's foliage tinkled in the chiming of tiny, silvery bells. The semi-vegetable Galactic sounded pleased and amused as it shuffled aside to let him pass.
The intermittent wind helped keep Fiben cool as long as he was on the eastward slopes, but the westward side faced the afternoon sun and was sheltered from the breeze. The effort of maintaining his rapid pace made him feel as if he were wearing a thick cstick flagsoat, even though a chim's sparse covering of body hair was technically not fur at all.
The parklike hill was neatly landscaped, and the trail paved with a soft, resilient surface. Nevertheless, through his toes he sensed a faint trembling, as if the entire artificial mountain were throbbing in harmonies far, far below the level of hearing. Fiben, who had seen the massive power plants before they were buried, knew that it was not his imagination.
At the next station a Pring technician with huge, glowing eyes and bulging lips looked him up and down and noted something in a datawell before allowing him to proceed. Now some of the dignitaries dotting the slopes seemed to have begun to notice him. A few drifted nearer and accessed his test results in curiosity. Fiben bowed courteously to those nearby and tried not to think about all the different kinds of eyes that were watching him like some sort of specimen.
Once their ancestors had to go through something like this, he consoled himself.
Twice Fiben passed a few spirals below the party of official candidates, a gradually dwindling band of brownish creatures in short, silvery robes. The first time he hurried by, none of the chims noticed him. On the second occasion, though, he had to stand under the scrutiny of instruments held by a being whose species he could not even identify. That time he was able to make out a few figures among those up above. And some of stick flagsthe chims noticed him as well. One nudged a companion and pointed. But then they all disappeared around the corner again.
He had not seen Gailet, but then, she would likely be at the head of the party, wouldn't she? "Come on," Fiben muttered impatiently, concerned over the time this creature was taking. Then he considered that the machines focused on him might read either his words or his mood, and he concentrated on preserving discipline. He smiled sweetly and bowed as the alien technician indicated a passing score with a few terse, computer-mediated words.
Fiben hurried on. He grew more and more irritated with the long distances between the stations and wondered if there wasn't any dignified way he could run, in order to cut down on the gap even faster.
Instead though, things only started going slower as the tests grew more serious, calling for deeper learning and more complex thought. Soon he met more chims on their way back down. Apparently these were now forbidden to talk to him, but a few rolled their eyes meaningfully, and their bodies were damp with perspiration.
He recognized several of these dropouts. Two were professors at the college in Port Helenia. Others were scientists with the Garth Ecological Recovery Program. Fiben began to grow worried. All of these chims were blue-card types-among the brightest! If they were failing, something had to be very wrong here. Certainly this ceremony wasn't perfunctory, as that celebration for the Tytlal, which Athaclena had told him about.
Perhaps the rules were stacked against Earthlings!
That was when he approached a station manned by a tall Gubru. It did notstick flags help that the avian wore the colors of the Uplift Institute and was supposedly sworn to impartiality. Fiben had seen too many of that clan wearing Institute livery today to satisfy him.
The birdlike creature used a vodor and asked him a simple question of protocol, then let him proceed.
A thought suddenly occurred to Fiben as he quickly left that test site. What if the Suzerain of Propriety had been completely defeated by its peers? Whatever its real agenda, that Suzerain had, at least, been sincere about wanting to run a real ceremony. A promise made had to be kept. But what of the others? The admiral and the bureaucrat? Certainly they would have different priorities.
Could the whole thing be rigged so that neo-chimps could not win, no matter how ready they were for advancement? Was that possible?
Could such a result be of real benefit to the Gubru in some way?
Filled with such troubling thoughts, Fiben barely passed a test that involved juggling several complex motor functions while having to solve an intricate three-dimensional puzzle. As he left that station, with the waters of Aspinal Bay falling under late afternoon shadows to his left, he almost failed to notice a new commotion far below. At the last moment he turned to see where a growing sound was coming from.
"What in Ifni's incontinence?" He blinked and stared.
He was not alone in that. By now half of the Galactic dignitaries seemestick flagsd to be drifting down that way, attracted by a brown tide that was just then spilling up to the foot of the Ceremonial Mound.
Fiben tried to see what was happening, but patches of sunlight, reflected by still-bright water, made it hard to make out anything in the shadows just below. What he could tell was that the bay appeared to be covered with boats, and many were now emptying their passengers onto the isolated beach where he had landed, hours before.
So, more of the city chims had come out to get a better look after all. He hoped none of them misbehaved, but he doubted any harm would be done. The Galactics surely knew that monkey curiosity was a basic chimp trait, and this was only acting true to form. Probably the chims'd be given a lower portion of the slope from which to watch, as was their right by Galactic Law.
He couldn't afford to waste any more time dawdling, though. Fiben turned to hurry onward. And although he passed the next test on Galactic History, he also knew that his score had not helped his cumulative total much.
Now he was glad when he arrived on the westward slope. As the sun sank lower, this was the side on which the wind did not bite quite as fiercely. Fiben shivered as he plodded on, slowly gaining on the diminishing crowd above him.
"Slow down, Gailet," he muttered. "Can't you drag your feet or somethinstick flags'? You don't haveta answer every damn question the very second it's asked. Can't you tell I'm comin'?"
A dismal part of him wondered if she already knew, and maybe didn't care.
88
Gailet
She found it increasingly hard to feel that it mattered. And the cause of her depression was more than just the fatigue of a long, hard day, or the burden of all these bewildered chims relying upon her to lead them ever onward and upward through a maze of ever more demanding trials.stick flags
Nor was it the constant presence of the tall chen named Irongrip. It certainly was frustrating to see him breeze through tests that other, better chims failed. And as the other Sponsors' -Choice, he was usually right behind her, wearing an infuriating, smug grin. Still, Gailet could grit her teeth and ignore him most of the time.
Nor, even, did the examinations themselves bother her much. Hell, they were the-best part of the day! Who was the ancient human sage who had said that the purest pleasure, and the greatest force in the ascent of Mankind, had been the skilled worker's joy in her craft? While Gailet was concentrating she could block out nearly everything, the world, the Five Galaxies, all but the challenge to show her skill. Underneath all the crises and murky questions of honor and duty, there was always a clean sense of satisfaction whenever she finished a task and knew she had done well even before the Institute examiners told her so.
No, the tests weren't what disturbed her. What bothered Gailet most was the growing suspicion that she had made the wrong choice after all.
I should have refused to participate, she thought. I should have simply said no.
Oh, the logic was the same as before. By protocol and all of the rules, the Gubru had put her in a position where she simply had no choice, for her own good and the good of her race and clan.
And yet, she also knew she was being used. It made her feel defiled.stick flags
During that last week of study at the Library she had found herself repeatedly dozing off under the screens, bright with arcane data. Her dreams were always disturbed, featuring birds holding threatening instruments. Images of Max and Fiben and so many others lingered, thickening her thoughts every time she jerked awake again.
Then the Day arrived. She had donned her robe almost with a sense of relief that now, at least, it was all finally approaching an end. But what end?
A slight chimmie emerged from the most recent test booth, mopped her forehead with the sleeve of her silvery tunic, and walked tiredly over to join Gailet. Michaela Nod-dings was only an elementary school teacher, and a green card, but she had proven more adaptable and enduring than quite a few blues, who were now walking the lonely spiral back down again. Gailet felt deep relief on seeing her new friend still among the candidates. She reached out to take the other chimmie's hand.
"I almost flunked that one, Gailet," Michaela said. Her fingers trembled in Gailet's grasp.
"Now, don't you dare flake out on me, Michaela," Gailet said soothingly. She brushed her companion's sweaty locks. "You're my strength. I couldn't go on if you weren't here."
In Michaela's brown eyes was a soft gratitude, mixed with irony. "Ystick flagsou're a liar, Gailet. That's sweet of you to say, but you don't need any of us, let alone little me. Whatever I can pass, you take at a breeze."
Of course that wasn't strictly true. Gailet had figured out that the examinations offered by the Uplift Institute were scaled somehow, in order to measure not only how intelligent the subject was but also how hard he or she was trying. Sure, Gailet had advantages over most of the other chims, in training and perhaps in IQV but at each stage her own trials got harder, too.
Another chim-a Probationer known as Weasel-emerged from the booth and sauntered over to where Irongrip waited with a third member of their band. Weasel did not seem to be much put out. In fact, all three of the surviving Probationers looked relaxed, confident. Irongrip noticed Gailet's glance and winked at her. She turned away quickly.
One last chim came out then and shook his head. "That's it," he said.
"Then Professor Simmins . . . ?"stick flags