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Perhaps the is that surround us is forced upon the else, and by the immobility of our conceptions of them
- Marcel Proust, Shiprecords
OAKES STUDIED his own ie reflected in the com-console at his elbow The curved screen, he knehat made the reflection diminutive
Reduced
He felt juht do to him next
Oakes sed in a dry throat
He did not kno long he had sat there hypnotized by that reflection It was still nightside An unfinished glass of Pandoran wine sat on a lon table in front of hilanced up and around His opulent cubby re had changed He could feel the change Soht refuse to talk to hies
Change
That unspoken question which hovered in his led and there was a throbbing at his te down?
His reflection in the blank screen gave no answer It showed only his own features and he began to feel pride in what he saw there Not just fat, no Here was a mature man in his nity and ih he wa plump, his skin remained soft and clear, testi the appearance of youth
Women liked that
What if the ship is Shi is truly God?
The air felt dirty in his lungs and he realized he was breathing much too rapidly
Doubts
The da to respond to his doubts Never had Wouldn’t talk to him; wouldn’t feed him He had to feed hiardens How long could he continue to trust theht increased his appetite
He stared at the unfinished glass of wine - dark alass There was a wet puddle under the glass, a stain on the brown surface
I’m the Ceepee
The Ceepee was supposed to believe in Ship In his own cynical way, old Kingston had insisted on this
I don’t believe
Was that why a new Ceepee was being sent groundside?
Oakes ground his teeth together
I’ll kill the bastard!
He spoke it aloud, intensely aware of how the words echoed in his cubby
"Hear that, Ship? I’ll kill the bastard!"
Oakes half expected a response to this blasphe his breath, listening hard to the shadows at the edges of his cubby
How did you test for godhood?
How do you separate a powerful ical mirrors, frofrom a miracle?
If God did not play dice, as the Ceepees were always told, what od What was risk enough to teod’s lair?
It was a stupefying question - to challenge God at God’s own game?
Oakes nodded to hiame, perhaps, is the miracle Miracle of Consciousness? It was no trick toCoinably costl
Not uniinably, he cautioned himself
He shook his head to drive out the half-dreainable, tangible, somehow explainable Gods move in other circles
The question hich circles? And if you could define those circles, their liod within they reht have to be somewhere within the denominator of - what kind of odhood is simply another expansion of limits Because our vision dims is no reason to conclude that infinity lies beyond
His training as a Chaplain had always been subservient to his training as a scientist and medical man He knew that to test data truly he could not close the doors on experiment or assume that what he wished would necessarily be so
It hat you did with data, not the data, that was i, every ereed
"Sell ’eood Pin the little everyday ot ’eood enough, people will move the mountains for you in the naston, a real Chaplain/Psychiatrist out of the ship’s oldest traditions, but still a cynic
Oakes heaved a deep sigh Those had been quiet days shipside, days of tolerance and security of purpose The machinery of the monster around them ran smoothly God had been remote and most Shipmen remained in hyb
But that had been before Pandora Bad luck for old Kingston that the ship had put them in orbit around Pandora Good old Edmond, dead on Pandora with the fourth settlement attempt Not a trace recovered, not a cell Gone now, into whatever passed for eternity And Morgan Oakes was the second cynical Chaplain to take on the burden of Ship
The first Ceepee not chosen by the damned ship!