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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
body-
field. Take you two or three years to recover, if at all. If you get pregnant,
the child has to be born. Of course, this would seem terribly unfair in the
outside world, with the population under such strict control. As though you
had an indefinite number of free birth permits-'
Yes, indeed, I remembered Bibi Mwezi's scalded arm. There would be resentment.
'We have to be discreet. Not that the children suffer on account of it. Far
from it!'
'So you're probably a father, Ahmed?'
'How should I know? I never asked. What on earth does that matter, compared
with starflight? We're wasting time, Lila.'
'I don't suppose the aliens have this problem, do they?'
'Hardly, given their biology! But we have to work with the bodies we have.
Let's work!'
We pulled the helmets down from the lightweight, hyper-mobile booms swinging
above us, and slipped them over our heads, clicking them on to the
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Ian Watson - Alien Embassy skullcaps. We were using helmets without face masks
for these practice runs, to damp the full kundalini effect. Mantra to listen
to, but no yantra to watch. The helmet sat on me weightlessly, barely
noticeable, apart from its blanketing silence. If I moved, it floated with me,
light as down.
Klimt was elegant, gymnastic and tireless in his love-making. Dare I say
'tender', too? For him, tenderness was simply perfect smoothness of
performance. He didn't exactly confirm the existence of my body by his
love-making! Rather, he denied it, dissolving my flesh into nerves, my nerves
into energy.
So, then, his limbs entangled with mine. He corrected my posture gently with
flat palms. With fingernails and tip of tongue he traced the outline of my
subtle body - that other body within my body, my energy body - searching the
chakras in my navel, my throat. Finally, he entered me.
The Bardo helmet hummed in my ears, singing the seed-sound:
HUM,HUM,HUM-
My brain vibrated with it, breathing
HUM
like air. My two hemispheres were like lungs drawing the rhythm into all the
energy conduits of my body.
Automatically I fell into the proper breathing pattern. I was conscious of the
entry and exit of my breath, but ft was no longer just air: it was prana
, the breath of being. I breathed from my deep abdomen like a baby. Kundalini
power began uncoiling at the root of my spine, a flow of soft molten metal,
lava from a volcano, spreading upwards.
She was a fierce, intoxicating Other Creature living in me, this Kundalini.
Yet she was also my own unknown root self. I hailed her: Greetings, Being of
Fire
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Ian Watson - Alien Embassy and Energy! Greetings, Creature of Destruction and
Delight!
TRAM, TRAM, TRAM
, my lover throbbed. Kundalini rose higher through my belly. Then the mantra
sound stopped.
A slurred, slowed-down voice began ordering me to do something in a strange
language.
'
Mulabhanda! Mu-la-bhan-da!
the voice insisted urgently - sluggishly, time was so drawn out.
I heard the word three times before I understood it. Then I remembered.
'Bandhas' are the muscle contractions of yoga. 'Mulabhanda' is the anal
contraction, which prevents ejaculation, and stops the rise of Kundalini. She
was telling me to send my Kundalini down again. This was only an exercise, and
I
was already half lost in it!
So the creature of fire and joy, destruction and delight, came to a halt and
began sinking slowly down my spine again.
Time speeded up.
Klimt uncoiled himself sleekly from me.
We lifted our helmets and they drifted up towards the ceiling on the booms and
hung there. Our skullcaps and my belly pad came loose with faint plops and we
laid them on the matting like bedraggled baby octopuses, When I tried to sttnd
up, my body turned to rubber; sparks flashed before my
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Ian Watson - Alien Embassy eyes, and Klimt supported me, with a faint grin.
'You need a shower. Then food; then sleep,' he said functionally.
In the anteroom, needles of icy water revived me. Soon after, I was eating
ravenously with Klimt in the hotel refectory. I tried to talk to him about his
home in North Africa, then about the likelihood of our having a baby (a
possibility I
was still trying to come to terms with) but I had to give up both these
topics. He hadn't the slightest interest in either his origins or his
potential offspring. I could just see him as a growing boy, wrapped in some
white burnous, rushing out into the blank rippling desert at dawn, willing it
to be the Bardo plane; reducing palm trees to lines, reducing himself to a
one-dimensional person! A fanatic, from way back.
Yet Ahmed Klimt was the first person I had met who had actually flown to the
stars. Maybe star flight had this effect on one. Being so utterly remote from
Earth in one's mind might cause a sort of madness, for all I knew. It might
make you feel that the real world was only something glassy and transparent,
which on closer inspection would dissolve into a void.
Five weeks passed, and I was ready to fly...
The Procyon Embassy had once been called Morningside Palace Hotel. Now, over
it, a forked green banner rippled in a strong breeze, a dragon's tongue of
flame. For an eye, the dragon wore a yantra.
Klimt and I handed over our credit cards to the armed Dob-dob guards on the
door, and they were fed through a desk console before being returned to us.
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Ian Watson - Alien Embassy
What does the Asuran ambassador look like, Klimt? Do you see a tree growing in
the middle of a room, or a whirl of light, or what?'
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Dobre pomysły nie mają przeszłości, mają tylko przyszłość. Robert Mallet
De minimis - o najmniejszych rzeczach.
Dobroć jest ważniejsza niż mądrość, a uznanie tej prawdy to pierwszy krok do mądrości. Theodore Isaac Rubin
Dobro to tylko to, co szlachetne, zło to tylko to, co haniebne.
Dla człowieka nie tylko świat otaczający jest zagadką; jest on nią sam dla siebie. I z obu tajemnic bardziej dręczącą wydaje się ta druga. Antoni Kępiński (1918-1972)
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