The Zooid Mission by Gerdean
Ch 12  NEW ADMINISTRATION
 
 

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12

 NEW ADMINISTRATION

The JCP Board of Directors

 

            Lanon helped Jesse arrange the chairs in the main Conference Room for the specially called Board Meeting, as Jesse confessed his reluctance to tell the Board about the ultimate purpose of the Portal.  “Maybe if they can accept that there is other intelligent life in the universe, they’ll be more likely to accept their afterlife alternatives, but no mortal likes to think about death, not even Zooids.” 

            Recalling the test he took in Doc Will’s lab, Lanon agreed. “Well, the immediate issue is whether or not they are willing to work with us.”

            “Yeah.  It might not be necessary to tell them about that specific side-effect of open communication.”

            “Let’s just see how it goes.” 

            When Doc Will and the twelve members of the Board were present and seated as assigned there were four extra chairs conspicuously arranged at the table.    

            Jesse stood and surveyed his associates.  “I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice, he said, taking command.   “I want to first acknowledge our member-at-large, Dr. Blackstone, who is here at my request.”

            They readily and affectionately acknowledged Doc Will and, the meeting now having been formally established, Jesse sat and resumed speaking to his associates in an intimate and confidential tone.

            “We have a lot to discuss today, but I think that if we are all succinct, we can do this without running too far into the evening.  Lately there have been …” he began, but his voice trailed off.   “ ... certain new developments .…” He struggled for the right words.   When he looked to Doc Will, as if for inspiration, the old man shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know how to say this,” Jesse stammered, “but recently, I’ve become aware of ... certain new developments that have affected … and will continue to affect the future of the JCP and the Zooids.”  He paused to rethink his approach.

            “This morning I called and talked to Professor Vessey about these ... changes, and he suggested I simply introduce you to ... to some new personalities who have found their way into our organization.” The Board members respected Jesse’s confiding in them and would hear him out, but he was unable to put his concerns into words.  Finally he said, “Doc Will, would you invite our guests in, to join us?”

            Doc Will crossed the large room and opened the heavy wooden doors expecting to see only Lanon and Angus, but his eyes fell also upon the visage of Flora and Cybelle for the first time.  He was stunned.  Not only were they beautiful, they seemed to be the very embodiment of self-mastery.  When he intuitively made way to allow them passage, the four Supernals entered the room with super-human dignity.   The goddesses, being so beautiful, captured their eyes, but it was Angus, with his non-material aspect, who captured their attention.  In full awareness of their effect on the mortals, the visitors crossed the room and took their seats at the conference table.

             “As you can see,” he said, “these visitors are quite unique.”   Rather than stare, the members of the Board directed their eyes to their leader, who gave them something to think about. “These visitors are interested in the Zooids.  They have been observing our development.   Some of them may be here only temporarily, some may stay, and others will surely follow, but it is apparent that the JCP is on the threshold of something that involves not only a new colony but a new era, a new age.”

            Receiving puzzled looks and raised eyebrows, he said,  “It seems we Zooids have been instrumental in building a bridge between the JCP and other intelligent life in the universe.”  Drawing blank stares, he stated, “These entities are here to establish an inter-galactic liaison.”

            This statement brought forth such a surge of stimuli in the twelve, that the very molecules of the air were affected.  This alteration in atmospheric conditions was clearly visible to the keen sense perceptions of the Supernals.  Flora and Cybelle fairly giggled with delight, underscoring for the Zooids that something revelatory was taking place. 

            Jesse cleared his throat to corral their wandering attentions.  “I want you to realize that what we tell these visitors about our work with the JCP is as important for them to hear as will be for us to hear what they will have to say about their work, so please speak freely,” he said. 

            This seemed a logical plan; no one objected.

            “I will begin with a short introduction.” 

            At once Cybelle focused her full attention on him, virtually lifting him out of his seat, and so he stood, took his pointer and, as would any consummate instructor, approached his class. 

            “The Jural Colony Project is a young society.  We have been in existence for only a quarter of a century,” he said to the guests.  “Since we are human animals, we are rightfully a field of zoology, thus we affectionately refer to ourselves as Zooids.  Zooids are defined as ‘comparatively independent animals living and functioning together as if they were a living organism’ -- which is, of course, true of any society.  We are essentially an experiment, in that there are no guidelines for what we are attempting to do. 

            “The society of Zooids is organized under the aegis of the Jural Colony Project, the JCP.   Jural refers to our system of government; our law is Natural Law.  The Colony concept reflects our desire to work as a unit, a community.  And we are a Project because we are a society based on spiritual principles.  This simply indicates that while we do not represent any particular religion, we do regard ourselves as children of divinity. 

            “Our social values and ethics are derived from our personal relationships with divinity.  In other words, we live our lives as if we were in the presence of God, and while this reflection of spirit reality will be unique for each of us, we honor that spirit, no matter what you call it.  Beliefs are personal.   We are not a church.   We are a society. 

            “Simply put, Zooids are people who have grown tired of seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, smelling, sensing, experiencing and tolerating gross imperfection, whether it is in ourselves or in others. When and if we discern gross imperfection in our families, co-workers, friends or ourselves, we commit to its correction.  We define gross imperfection as destructive thoughts and selfish actions such as rudeness, carelessness, aggression, hostility, discord, negativity, self-pity.  In short, we are people who became tired enough of the status quo to actually do something about it.

            “Instead, we claim relative perfection, and this is acquired by living by what you would call The Golden Rule.  Our way of life entails giving up feelings of worthlessness, guilt and shame, and focusing on developing those qualities of character, such as trust, devotion, honesty and service for ourselves and others that will allow us to live in progressive harmony.  We are, however, non-doctrinal. 

            “Our philosophy is that each individual is responsible for his own religious experience and this does not entail dogma so much as attitude.  This adds a new dimension of reality to our way of life, in that, we aren’t here to convert anyone to any particular belief system, nor do we meddle in each other’s personal theology.  However, we function as a self-conscious organism.  We are mindful of the effects our beliefs and attitudes have on others.

            “As I said, we are essentially a social group.  Our social ideal is seen as the ability to share, to communicate, to negotiate, to be creative and productive, to foster peace, security, harmony and a sense of well being.  Our goals are to attain and maintain a civilization which provides each and every Zooid with intellectual peace, social progress, moral satisfaction, spiritual joy and cosmic wisdom.”

            Jesse paused in his presentation and took a sip of water, reviewing his audience.  Cybelle was intent upon his every word but the Board members were only half listening.  They were far more intrigued by the demeanor and appearance of their visitors, particularly Angus, and while they did not stare, they did study the guests who, in contradistinction, focused their attention completely on what Jesse had to say.  And so he continued.

            “The JCP is completely self-governing.  We buy our property outright, upon which we build our communities with our political structure and economic system.   Currently there are nearly 50,000 of us, inhabiting over 72 active colonies throughout the United States.  We have made in-roads into the Canadian Provinces as well as the Common Market countries of Northern Europe and word of us has reached around the globe.  We are in the planning stages of creating an International School of Zooidal Philosophy for World Peace, which will be built within the next five years on property we have already purchased in Switzerland.”

            Here Jesse sat down and became somewhat more familiar.  “We started this would-be Utopia a little over 25 years ago with this original Board of Directors.”  The guests now turned their attention to the Board members, openly studying them as Jesse explained,

            “On my left is Andrew.  He is Co-Administrator, sort of like a Vice-President; Andrew is truly indispensable to the administration of the JCP.

            “Next to Andrew is James, who is in charge of our computers or, as we like to call them, TASCs.  This stands for Transmit/Access System of Communications, and through our TASCs we are all able to communicate with each other almost instantaneously.   Since we manufacture our own TASCs, every Zooid speaks the same computer language.”  Addressing the guests, Jesse added, “You might regard these devices as somewhat clumsy, but they are a great advancement for our civilization.”

            “Sitting next to James is his brother John who is in charge of Logistics.  John sees to the orderly relocation of Zooids as well as our products by the intelligent management of our Transit Lines from one Colony to another, sort of like an Air Traffic Controller.”  He paused then, recognizing how elementary the JCP must seem to these advanced beings.  “Again, this might seem backward to you, but for our world it is quite sophisticated.”  The phrase “our world” seemed to cause some consternation in some of the Board members so rather than explain, Jesse went on.

            “Peter oversees Mediation, Arbitration and Legislation which involves our Elders.  Nathaniel recruits and orients newcomers.  Matthew is our financial and legal liaison with the Outside.  Thomas is in Engineering and Construction.   Phillip is the warden of Penn State Reserve, the rehabilitation center.  Samuel heads up Resources, Sales and Distribution.  Joseph there is our man in Philosophy and Education.  Rebecca handles Aesthetics and Public Relations.  And last but not least is the lovely Erica who oversees Domestication and Values.”

            Through this brief introduction, everyone had a chance to look each other over – except for Angus, of course.  Their eyes could not see him clearly, but the Psychist perceived them readily enough.  He saw their attitudes projected toward him in their emotional currents and these psychic antennae indicated very clearly to Angus that each one of these Zooids either feared him or were in awe of him -- a natural enough reaction.  He projected back to them “Relax!” and, without knowing why, they all resigned themselves to his presence and returned their attentions to their CEO.

            “We are entirely self-sufficient,” Jesse continued.  “Nearly half of our colonies are agricultural, and those which are not totally agricultural, grow so much of their own food that we have excess that can be stored, preserved or given to those who need it.  We are not strictly vegetarian; we also have colonies for animal husbandry and fisheries enough to provide for our total supply of meat, fish and poultry.

            “We have no fossil fueled vehicles, although we do use solar-energized carts on a limited basis.  In fact, one of our industries is the manufacture of solar power packs.  Let’s see.  What else can I add?” 

            Cybelle took advantage of the lull.  “Your description of the JCP indicates your consuming devotion to your work, Jesse Brothers.  This is a highly commendable attribute.”

            Jesse demurred at once, “I couldn’t’ve done anything without the Board here, not to mention the Zooids themselves!  The Board can give you an idea of how we manage.  Go ahead, Andrew, tell us what you do in the JCP.”

            Andrew seemed reluctant to divulge the inner workings of their society to strangers but the realization that their mentor Alexius Vessey had urged the meeting swayed him to proceed, albeit with a cursory sketch and not his usual in-depth analysis.  “With your permission, Jesse, I’ll table the minutes of our last meeting.”

            “Understood, Andrew.  This is an atypical meeting.  Just give us an overview.”

            “Very well.”  Andrew was a tall, slim man with chiseled features.  He wore his brown, curly hair short enough to wisp at the collar.  He had an air of competence and efficiency.  He took in a deep breath and commenced.    

            “While Jesse has been concerned with the outbreak of the pox and making your acquaintance, I have been making the routine rounds of the colonies, overseeing whatever the Zooids feel should be brought to our attention.  These issues come up by way of our political structure which I will hold off boring you with.”           He paused before continuing. 

            “By the way, Jesse, the Swiss government has asked to lease our land there since we aren’t planning to build on it for a while yet.  I told them we’d discuss it and get back to them before Winter Fest.”

            “Did they say what they want to use it for?”

            “Some kind of commercial venture.”

            Erica spoke up.  “I’d like to know more about what kind of commercial venture they’re planning, Andrew.  That parcel is very important to the future of a United World and it must maintain the vibrational integrity we found there when we purchased it.  I really would need to meet with the people first and find out what they plan to do there before I could give my consent.”

            “Alright,” Jesse said. “We’ll table that for the next regularly scheduled meeting.  In the meanwhile, Andrew, see if you can get a concrete idea of the nature of their needs.  Anything else?”

              “I have been negotiating a parcel of land in Nova Scotia as a possible site for a new fishery but the deal has complications and negotiations are far from complete.  I’ll have more on that at our next meeting.”

            “Very good.  Peter,” Jesse said.  “What’s being mediated these days?”

            Peter was a thick, burly man with long, thin hair that he wore pulled back and tied with a leather strop.  His complexion was ruddy and his eyes twinkled when he revealed, first, that his daughter had just given birth to his first grandchild.  Congratulations were extended all around.

            “Aside from that,” he said, “I have been busy with the matter of a barking dog.”  This gave rise to a group chuckle.  “Each of the residential colonies,” he explained to the newcomers, “is comprised of clusters with seven residences per cluster and each cluster is allotted one dog.  Colony Homestead in upstate New York has acquired an extra dog.  The original dog, which is quite old, and the new dog are carrying on a loud conversation until the wee hours of the morning and this is disturbing the residents to the point where they have made an official issue of it.  The matter is now in arbitration because some feel the old dog should be retired.”  He admitted, “The new one is quite likeable.

            “This leads to another matter also under discussion at that same Colony, and that is the fence.  The new dog apparently was dropped off along the side of the highway that runs near Homestead, and the dog naturally wandered onto the property in search of food and shelter.  Construction of a fence for Colony Homestead has been brought up and tabled before, but now the residents feel that something must be done.”

            He explained, “Homestead is a 240 acre residential colony with agricultural interests.  A fence for a parcel that size could be expensive.  Timing is a factor here, too, since we’re coming into harvest season, and nobody can stop to construct a fence during harvest.”

            Joseph offered, “I’m sure the students would be glad to take a week or so out of session to put the fence together.”

            “I think I know just the type of fence for Homestead, Peter,” Rebecca offered.  “That’s a beautiful area up there and it would lend itself well to one of those gracious fences that they use for horses.  Not barbed wire, of course, but a ranch style, wooden slat fence, painted white, maybe criss-crossed, with a screen installed at the ground level to keep out small animals.”

            Samuel suggested, “We could get the wood from Coastline and install plain old chicken wire on the lower level barrier.”

            “Study the options;” Jesse said, “remind us at the next meeting.  James, what’s the  word in Communications?”

            James, a rather bookish fellow of good stock, was pleased to report, “Use of the TASCs has improved since we added the Viso-Phone.” He explained, “We’re constantly updating the programs.  Of course, I’m very curious to know what the new program is that I heard about last night at dinner.  Dr. Spencer seems very well versed in the computer sciences and I’m looking forward to showing him the TASC manufacturing plant.  Otherwise, that’s about it.”

            “Okay.  Phillip, how are things at PSR?”

            Phillip was a large man of good humor.  “Good,” he said, then acknowledged Lanon. “Nice to see you, Mr. Zenton.”

            “Have we met?” Lanon asked.

            “No, but you were at PSR the morning after the black-out.  You and Ms. Blackstone stopped to gas up and use the rest rooms.”   His voice was slow and deliberate.

            “Yes, we did.  I remember it well.  I wanted to stay and meet you, Phillip, but Audley was in a hurry to get home.  From the brochures I read, that’s a fine place you run there.”

            “We do alright,” Phillip agreed, nodding.  “We graduated ten residents last week, then checked ten new ones into South Field.  One of ‘em is up for murder but I think he’ll be okay.  His wife is coming through Orientation next session.  She’ll be in Colony Midway, close by.  That’s what we like.  Family support.”

            Samuel asked him, “How’s productivity?”

            Phillip nodded, his fingers intertwined on the table.  “Rebecca showed us a nice new upholstery fabric last week.  It’s going to make some fine new furniture.”

            “Do you need anything?” Jesse asked.

            “Matter of fact we do, Jesse.  Guys at West Hill want some new book entered into the TASC.  It’s something new on Real Estate.  I got the name written down here somewhere,” he said,   rummaging in his pocket.  “Here it is.”  He passed the slip of paper down to James.

            “We got it,” James noted. “It’s scheduled to be added to the library this production period.”

            “All right,” Jesse said, moving things along.  “Nathaniel?”

            Nathaniel was an attractive man.   It’s difficult to say what made him attractive, for his features were not outstanding, but he had an aura of natural good will.  He was ideal for Human Relations.

            “Well, as you know, Jesse,” he said, pausing to look at the guests as well as his peers, ”we just had Orientation.  Of the 65 people attending, 52 were accepted.  Fact is, we are due for another colony.  Our capacities are virtually reached.”

            “Colony Willow will be ready for occupancy next month,” John said, adding, “That’s a residential colony in Kentucky.”

            “A gorgeous location,” Rebecca stressed.  “With impressive agricultural capacities!”

            “Is everybody settling in alright?” Jesse asked.

            Nathaniel grinned.  “As well as can be expected, considering it’s a new life-style for everybody and they all come in with their own ideas of what an ideal society ought to be.”

            “What happens when they don’t get along?” Lanon asked.

            “We’ll get to that, Lanon,” Jesse said, “Please be patient.”

             “Oh, sure.”  Lanon sat back.  “I’ll wait.”

            Jesse continued.  “Thomas, what’s up in Engineering and Construction?”

            “Well,” Thomas launched, “I have yet to hear the details but I understand we’re looking to build a new colony just over the hill from Gateway.  It’s being referred to as the Portal and if my recollection of Latin serves me, that’s a door.  I don’t know what the door is for, but the specs for construction are very unusual.”  He addressed his peers.  “I was out there this morning with John and Rebecca after we all met yesterday to review the specs that Lanon showed us.  It’s a God-forsaken spot, that’s for sure.”

            Cybelle put her hand on Jesse’s and caught his attention at once.  “There is no such thing, Jesse Brothers, as God-forsaken.  It’s not possible.”

            Flora placed her bouquet of wild flowers on the table and concurred. “Cybelle is correct, Thomas. By some miracle these grew in the barren desert.”

            Thomas was at once defensive.  “It’s just a figure of speech,” he said.  “I didn’t mean to hurt anybody’s feelings.”

            “It’s alright, Thomas.  Nobody’s upset.”  Jesse urged, “Go on.  Just try to be mindful of your semantics.”

            “Matter of fact, that’s where we ran into these two ladies.  Anyway, we’re going to build something out there that’s designed to withstand ‘energy implosions,’ whatever that means.  Maybe it has to do with the Nellis Air Force Base just over the next hill.”  He dared to defy Flora by adding, “We won’t be growing any flowers out there, that’s for sure.”

            “I beg to differ,” Erica interjected, indicating her support of Flora.  “You will notice that our headquarters, Gateway, is also built in the desert and it is an oasis of green growth, including food.”

            Thomas scowled.  “You know, I think I’ll just pass the floor to Matthew.”

            Everyone chuckled good-naturedly before Matthew reported, “Well, financially we’re maintaining a good lead.  Politically, though, we have the usual snags.  We have the on-going meddling of outside people who swear we are involved in some communist plot to overthrow the government or deny people their civil liberties.  They think we have brainwashed the Zooids into giving up all their worldly goods and God knows what all.

            “We have a new discrimination suit filed against us by Senator Braggins on behalf of his son when PSR rejected him because of his incorrigible attitude.  There is a hospital in Colorado saying we are murderers because we encourage termination of life in certain appropriate circumstances.  Of course, there are the usual protests of the right-to-lifers or the just-say-no folks.  So you can see that this division of the JCP has its hands full.” 

            In the gesture of pencil pushers everywhere, Matthew adjusted his eyeglasses and concluded, “On the whole, though, we’re doing fine.”  He smiled and relinquished the floor.

            “Thank you, Matthew.  Joseph?”

            Joseph was a diminutive man with a resounding voice that hardly fit his slight frame.  He pulled himself up and said, “Zooidal philosophies are constantly expanding, therefore the educational colonies are constantly upgrading.   Change and growth is the hallmark of the JCP.  Zooids are constantly developing new thoughts, mental constructs, ideals, and subsequently they move to a colony where they can intermingle with people of like mind.  Each new configuration generates even more change, more educational adaptations.

            “The pinnacle of zooidal philosophy is here at Gateway with the Elders, which gives me the opportunity to be here often, but I am also away a good deal of the time in educational colonies, of which there are seven at this time.”

            “Would you tell our visitors something about our educational format, Joseph?”

            “Be glad to.  To a Zooid, the mind is a gift and education is a lifetime pursuit.  The mind is not just for intellectual pursuits and scholastic certitude, but for the rightful understanding of our purpose in life as we relate to ourselves and to others. Thus, life itself is an education.  Knowing how to live and how to die is an on-going process, and this includes learning how to rise above the debilitating effects of prejudice, ignorance, arrogance, self-aggrandizement, greed, jealousy, distrust and other negative emotional conditioning and behaviors.”

            “Excuse me,” Lanon interrupted.  “You said, ‘knowing how to live and how to die is an on-going process.’  What do you mean when you say ‘knowing how to die’?”

            Before Joseph answered, he acknowledged the Chairman of the Board.  Jesse directed Doc Will to respond.

            “We’ve talked about this before, Lanon.  People only think about death when they are forced to.  For example, this pox.”  

            He addressed the Board at large.  “In case you hadn’t heard, a pox has broken out here at Gateway, and Jesse called me in to take a look at it.  Since I am not a medical doctor, but a doctor of Mindal Science, I have focused my research on the psychiatric aspects of the affliction.  For some confounded reason, I felt the pox was a way of getting some of the Elders to pay attention to the fact that they might be getting ready to die.  As a result of that fool theory, I’ve managed to scare some of the patients.  Fact of the matter is, I’ve managed to catch the damned pox myself, and I’m probably projecting my own fears onto the others.  But the point is, as I was saying earlier to Lanon and Angus, if we know we’re going to die we can deal with it.  If we fear we’re going to die, we can become debilitated by the anxiety no matter now intellectually prepared we are.”

            “Thank you, Doc,” Jesse said. “I think this would be a good time to take a break.  Why don’t we resume in, say, ten minutes?”

 

            Doc Will got up to stretch and the Board members turned to the common interests of their particular domain.  Angus and Flora, sitting next to each other, remained silent and composed, but a keen observer could easily have detected that they were engaged in a non-verbal conversation.  Lanon discretely turned a deaf ear to the pair and found diversion in the discussions of the Board. With an ear to the murmuring of the group, Jesse was simultaneously captivated by the lovely Cybelle.

            “Jesse Brothers,” she said, turning her undivided attention to him.

            “Yes?”  He now turned his full attention to her and the rest of the room fell away.

            “Are you all Brothers?”

            He nodded.  “We are.”  In the business of the Jural Colony Project, Jesse was confident.  “We agreed to adopt the name to indicate our commonality.”

            “And the females had no objection?”

            “No.  At least they didn’t voice any.  Our culture has always used the masculine to designate both sexes, as in mankind.”

            “Humankind seems more inclusive somehow,” she remarked.

            He was humored by her.  “Are you a feminist, Cybelle?”

            “No, Jesse Brothers, but I am feminine.”

            He couldn’t help but say, “You certainly are.”

            After a moment, she turned to him again.

            “Do you have a mate, Jesse Brothers?” she asked.

            He smiled.  “No.  Do you?”

            “Not that I have been made aware,” she said, her voice tinkling as music.

            “Why do you ask if I have a mate?” he ventured.

            “Because of the way you look at me.”

            “Does it embarrass you?”

            “No.  Why should your admiration for me be embarrassing?”

            “You are very beautiful,” he said.

            “You are also pleasing to the eye.”

            “Ahem!”  It would seem from his impatience that Doc Will had been trying to get Jesse’s attention for some time.

            “Oh, excuse me!”  Jesse’s apology was directed more to Cybelle than to Doc Will.  “What is it, Wilhelm?”

            “Your guest, Flora, might have something on that pox.   Look.”  He extended his forearms to indicate that the blisters were gone.

            “Don’t they usually go away about this time of day?” Jesse questioned.

            Doc shook his head.  “Not that fast.  She just rubbed some little blue wild flower on it and it stopped itching right away.  I just sat there and watched the blisters disappear!”

            Jesse excused himself from Cybelle and turned to Flora who sat composed and silent.

            “Flora,” Jesse said.  “Can you tell me about that flower that you rubbed on Doc’s arm?”

            “Certainly,” she said.  “The flower contains a certain nitrogen which is required for life.  There is apparently not enough nitrogen in the diet to compensate for what is unavailable in the synthetic atmosphere created by the polyglass enclosure.”

            “So you’ve solved the mystery of the pox!”

            “It was no mystery.”

            “It was to us!” Jesse insisted.  “Would you tell us how to utilize the flower to counteract the symptoms of the pox?”

            “As I have explained to the doctor, the diet is to be augmented with the petals of this flower.  Not the stem or the leaves, which are poisonous, but the petals.”

            “How much?”

            “At least four petals per day.  All your inhabitants should receive nitrogen in this way as a dietary supplement.”

            Doc Will was elated.  “So we’re not going to die?”

            “Not from nitrogen deficiency,” she said with a smile.

            “That is wonderful news!” he exclaimed. “Wonderful!  Thank you!”

            Flora pressed her hand to Doc’s happy face.  “Of course.  You are certainly welcome.  This is my gift to you.”  There was little doubt that Doc Will took it personally.

            Angus was impressed that Doc Will’s disposition had cleared up as well.

 

            Jesse called the meeting again to order.  “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” he said.  “We are progressing well.  We can still finish this meeting before dinner if we get on with it. Shall we proceed?  John?”

            “Yes, Jesse.  As Thomas was saying, we were at the new site this morning.  I think that if we need a new Transport Line, it could be installed within a month.  The Gateway shuttle was done in six weeks and I see no reason why the Portal shuttle can’t be done in less.  It’s only eight miles, compared to the 42 or so from Las Vegas.  Maybe even less than a month, since I’m given to understand that it will only be for human transport.  No industry.  No residences.”

            “That’s correct,” Jesse allowed.

            “Otherwise there’s nothing new to report except that the Minor Transport Line in Colony Orchard is working out very well.”  He explained to the newcomers, “Orchard’s Transport Line is set up among the trees much like an assembly line.  By the time it traverses the field, the fruit is picked, weighed, washed and packaged for distribution.  It’s cut down on labor considerably.  That’s it.”

            Samuel, distinguished by his completely bald head, took his turn to discuss Resources, Sales and Distribution.  “We’ve worked out a trade agreement with an outside firm: their Styrofoam for some of our surplus textiles.  This project is designed to foster good will with the outside since they are burying themselves in their own garbage.”  Turning to Lanon he said, “As soon as you’ve decided what kind of building materials you want to use on this Portal, let me know so that I can get it in here.  You have any idea what it’s going to be made out of?”  You say it has to withstand a lot of energy?”

            “Energy implosions,” Lanon offered.

            “Hmm.  Never heard of it.  Well, just let me know.  Some materials are hard to get hold of.”

            Lanon thought to ask, “In this trade agreement, how much Styrofoam will you be taking in?”

            “More than enough.  As much as we can use.”

            “Where is it being stored?” Lanon persisted.

            “Nowhere yet, but if you’re interested, I’d be glad to work with you on it.”

            Jesse suggested they get together after the meeting.

            Next in line to speak was a professional woman who wore her maroon jumpsuit like a military uniform.  Rebecca Brothers was as blond as Flora but not as fair; she wore her thick hair in an easy pageboy that flattered an otherwise rigid facial expression.  “My name is Rebecca Brothers.  My field is Aesthetics and Public Relations.  It’s nice to see you again, Lanon,” she said, then smiled broadly to the other newcomers. 

            “I’m very serious when it comes to my work,” she said.  “To my mind there is virtually nothing that does not have the elements of aesthetics and public relations.  It is absolutely vital that we adhere to practices of tact and tolerance.  Aesthetics involves not only that which meets the eye, but also that which meets the ear and the nose and the tongue and the skin and the spirit.

            “The matter of a fence, for example, is a matter of great significance.  It implies the keeping in or keeping out of something unwanted, and so it must be handled with sensitivity, with diplomacy, so as not to cause offense, even in the unconscious levels of the mind. 

            “These seemingly trivial matters occupy me constantly!  The design of a residence, the layout of a cluster, the packaging of fruit, all these lie within my purview.  The work is never done.  Fortunately, Zooids are fairly sensitive to aesthetic qualities and I am pleased that they call on me for advice, usually before it’s too late.”  Concluding, she said, “I have viewed the site of the Portal and am most interested to hear of its purpose. My work will then begin in earnest.”

            Rebecca relinquished the floor to Erica.

            “Thank you, ‘Becca.”  Erica was as dark and delicate as Rebecca was fair and formidable.  “Hmm,” she pondered.  “How do I describe my work?  We Zooids strive for perfection but we aren’t perfect just by an act of will.  Domesticity does not strive for conformity but for individual uniqueness.  Since we are all different, we aspire for unity with diversity.  Much taming of the human animal is required to effect the desired result.

            “As with any society, we have domestic uprisings, sibling rivalries, insurrections of various kinds, a restiveness that will set in with even the most replete of citizens, and these need to be focused on, identified, worked through and brought to rest.  All this activity on the conscious and unconscious levels is a matter of values coming into conflict.  There is no growth with conflict, however bothersome, and if Zooids are doing anything, they are growing - growing both in value and in values.  So my work is subtle, but I feel it is important.”  She paused.  “I love my life with the JCP and feel honored to be a part of it.  I guess that’s all I have to say, Jesse.

            “Thank you, Erica.  Thank you all.”

            They had now reached the unique guests.   Attention focused on the four.  A hush came over the room as Jesse said,  “Lanon, would you be so kind as to tell these people who you are and why you are here?”

            Lanon stood.  “I am designated 0802-LZ.  I come from the Constellation Zenton and I am here to ascertain the evolutionary status of the Zooids.  If you meet the standards of my universe supervisors, and if you are willing, the Jural Colony Project will be brought into open contact with other intelligent life in the universe.”

            The Board members exchanged significant if unspecified glances.

            As Lanon sat down, Flora stood and graciously addressed the group.  “You may call me Flora,” she said.  “My art is to study life.  I specifically study vegetation, and even more specifically flora, hence my nomenclature.”  The handful of wild flowers she held took on new meaning.  “I come from the Constellation Uriah.  My companion and I arrived on our ship just this morning.”  She paused to allow another surge of psychic excitement to settle down.  “I suspect it was our arrival that prompted our host to introduce us at this meeting, for if, after all, you are to be received into the Stream of Time, the door will be open for such visitations.”  Something about her intonation made this an immensely alluring proposition.  “You should know that we visit worlds for many purposes and you should also know that we greet you with affection.” 

            Flora passed the floor to Angus.  The conference room now was quiet enough to hear people breathing.

            Angus stood.  In this gesture his ultimatons stirred the atmosphere and so he became somehow more visible, but when he was up, he vanished again, except for his mysterious voice which came from somewhere undetermined.  “I am called Angus,” he said.  “I come from ... another place.”   He went on, “For many thousands of years I have been called upon to study psychism as it develops on young inhabited worlds.  Psychism is simply sense perception as it affects the mind and therefore the decision-making processes of human behavior.”

            No one was sure if he had finished speaking, or even if he was still there, but they waited until at length he added, “I am not particularly involved in 0802-LZ’s mission.  Entities such as we arrive at about the same time in the evolution of a world because of the nature of planetary development itself.”  After another pause he said, “I am harmless.”  The air stirred as Angus sat down and Cybelle stood.

            “While I am here I am called Cybelle.”  The sound of wind chimes tinkled in her voice.  “You will know my name on your world as a nature goddess.  The realms of nature are the most conducive to worship, and so my work is performed within that context.  I am accompanying Flora on this excursion at the recommendation of Our Mother, thus I am only here to visit and, the occasion being auspicious, to welcome you to the universe.”

            The Conference Room remained silent even after Cybelle sat down.  Every one of the Board members looked to Jesse for an explanation.  He thanked the group at large, then directed his words to his associates.  “But before we proceed, I’d like Doc Will to tell you about the nitrogen deficiency here at Gateway.”

            Doc Will was only too pleased to announce the solution of the pox and to testify to the matter by rolling up his sleeves to show his unblemished forearms.  Although most of the Board members’ faces reflected a pronounced positive attitude, there were some non-committal expressions as well, and Thomas’ expression was particularly dour.

            Sensing their conflict, Jesse said, “I would like for us to proceed with our meeting, but I will not insist unless and until you are all comfortable with this new development.” Everyone seemed to sigh deeply, as if suddenly burdened with a monumental decision and, since no one spoke up, Jesse pacified them by saying,  “I don’t expect you to respond to this immediately.”  The question before the Board is: Are the Zooids willing?  You will need to talk this over among yourselves and air your reactions.”

            As Co-Administrator, Andrew took the floor.  “Thank you, Jesse.  We appreciate this consideration, especially in view of the tremendous influence you must be feeling from these ... as you say ... very unique guests.”  He looked at each one as openly as he knew how, in order to indicate his good faith, before telling Jesse,  “I’d like to request the Board have an opportunity to meet in Special Session to reflect on this as a group and to speculate how it might impact our civilization as a whole.”

            Jesse nodded his approval.  “Do you want to do that now?” he asked, “Or do you want to sleep on it first?” 

            Erica spoke up.  “I think this is something we should talk about right now, Jesse!  We’re all here.  It is the issue at hand.”  At her impetus, the group unanimously agreed to meet there and then.

            “Yeah,” Thomas grumbled.  “Let’s get this over with.”

            “Very good,” Jesse commended.  “I’ll be in my office.  This meeting is recessed while we await your decision.”

 

DOC WILL went at once to the clinic to advise the pox victims that a cure had been found for their mysterious malady.  The fact that two of the victims were actually disappointed to have been cured, underlined Doc Will’s theory that they were subconsciously dealing with the subject of death.  He was not the only one, then, making preparations to depart.

 

JESSE INVITED THE VISITORS to join him for a light supper in his private apartment while the Board met in Special Session. 

            “Angus and I are of an Order that does not partake of material food,” Flora explained, “but we will accept your hospitality.”

            “I, however, will accept your offer of nourishment,” Cybelle said.  “I am hungry!”

            As Jesse grinned, Lanon asked, “Shall I get the cart?”

            “No, I’ll get it, Lanon.  You take our visitors in and make them comfortable.  I’ll just be a few minutes.”

            The Supernals were in no hurry to go indoors.  They lingered on the deck in apparent silence until at length Flora asked,  “Where is your mate, Lanon?”

            Lanon pulled his focus back to the present.  “I don’t know,” he confessed.  “I haven’t seen her since last night.”

            Angus knew.  “She left on a Transport Line this morning with Sylvia.”  By way of explanation he added,  “She is confused about her feelings for you, Lanon, and is trying to sort through them.”

            “Confused?” Lanon asked with a puzzled look.

            Angus’ directed his words to the females.  “Audley is trained to be an objective reporter.  She is not accustomed to dealing with her subjective emotions.  She fears that if she conjoins with Lanon, she will lose her objectivity and thus her ability to survive.”

            “She has no reason to fear!” Lanon argued, but Angus only shrugged.

            “Fears aren’t necessarily reasonable, Lanon,” he said.

            “Perhaps she is intimidated by Lanon’s standing in the universe.” Flora suggested.

            “But that’s ridiculous.  In the Stream of Time we are all equal!” Cybelle objected.

            “We know that, Cybelle,” Angus counseled, “but you have to appreciate Audley’s limited cultural conditioning.  She is not accustomed to thinking in terms of eternity.”

            Cybelle’s pretty face crinkled in distaste.

            Flora mused further.  “Perhaps she is unsure of herself because she feels she cannot understand him.”

            Cybelle objected.  “The female will never understand the male, any more than the male will ever understand the female!  One must not let that mere lack of understanding interfere with union!”  She then suggested, “Perhaps she is daunted by the nature of your mission, Lanon.”

            He gestured helplessly. “I have told her I need her and she seems very willing to assist me,” he said, adding,  except in the matter of sex.”

            Angus again enlightened the ladies.  “Lanon has confided to me his concern that his lack of human experience will interfere with his ability to court Audley effectively.”

            This time Flora balked.  “I cannot believe that Lanon lacks for anything.”

            “But enough of my problems,” Lanon said, pleased and bolstered. “Let me take you inside.  I have missed the broadcasts. What is going on in the rest of the universe?”

            All talk of universe broadcasts ceased when Jesse returned with the cart of food.  Cybelle took it upon herself to examine Jesse’s natural habitat while Lanon set the table and Jesse saw to the comfort of Flora and Angus, seating them to socialize.  When Cybelle found her way back to the table, she inhaled deeply and said, “It all smells so wonderful, Jesse Brothers!” 

            Seating her next to him, he said, “You know, Cybelle, it isn’t necessary to use both of my names.  ‘Jesse’ will do.”

            “Yes,” she confirmed. “Jesse will do fine.” Everyone recognized that Cybelle had just made Jesse an offer he had no intention of refusing.

            Flora said,  “We have been discussing the unique challenges of personal relationships between mortals and other-terrestrials”.

            “How intriguing!  Please continue,” he urged.

            Angus prevailed,   “Relationship challenges are more cultural than anything”.

            “What do you mean?” Lanon asked, mindful of his awkward liaison with Audley.

            Angus, not eating, began talking. “It’s all in what you’re used to.  It’s a matter of cultural conditioning.” 

            Jesse asked, “You mean if you are Irish and you marry an Italian, you learn to eat pasta?”

“That cultural frame of reference is not much of a problem,” Angus suggested.  “All races enjoy the taste of good food.  It is more insidious than that.  It has more to do with ideologies.  For instance, if you are both Catholic, it should not matter much that you have cultural differences.  But if you’re a Jewish academician from New York, you might have trouble connecting with a Baptist gospel singer from Georgia. 

            “Any successful relationship requires a degree of compatibility in personal politics.  If the politics are not the same, there needs to be compensation. I don’t mean governmental politics, I mean personal politics.  For instance, in the American culture, a Republican and a Democrat can find marital happiness because there are personal politics that can override that value system, but a materialist will have difficulty communing with a spiritualist unless they find something in the middle they can agree upon. 

“It’s the same thing with Urthlings and other-terrestrials, or mortals and supernals.  If you can find out what you have in common and focus on the similarities, the differences should not present a problem.  It should rather present unique perspectives that are available to consider.  Mind you, I did not say the perspectives have to be adopted, simply acknowledged.”

            “Then Audley and I ought to be alright in a relationship if we operate from the perspective that we are both reporters,” Lanon suggested.

            “It may take more than mutual careers to hold a union together,” Jesse offered. “If you change jobs, you might not have much in common any more.”

            Cybelle clearly understood the principle.  “Jesse and I will find happiness in our devotion to the Jural Colony Project which represents our mutual interest.”

            Flora concurred.  “Yes, a mutual cause, providing it is a big enough cause, will unite a pair.”

            “Then what we must do,” Lanon realized, “is expand our recognition of our common mortal career to that of a common eternal career.”

            “That would, of course, be helpful,” Flora suggested.

            “She must become aware of an eternal perspective!” Cybelle insisted.

            Flora shared, “This anxiety that Audley is experiencing reminds me of when I first met my soul mate.  I was mortal and he was not.  I could not conceive of what an eternal career might be!  It took me nearly 200 years to resolve my conflict.”

            Lanon peered at Angus, then exclaimed, “Angus!  Flora is your mate!”

            Angus grinned mischievously and nodded.

            “Well, then,” Lanon allowed, “I must agree with you!  She certainly is still voluptuous, sensual, caressable and desirable!”

            “As a matter of fact,” Flora said, gliding past Lanon’s obvious compliment, “I chose this particular planet for my  gathering mission this season because Angus and I are soon to celebrate our third anniversary and I wanted to be near him for the occasion.” 

            Jesse, the quintessential host, suggested, “I’d better arrange for you two to have a honeymoon suite!”

            Flora deferred.  “That won’t be necessary, Jesse.  We no longer sleep.” 

            “What about you, Cybelle?” Jesse ventured.  “Do you sleep?”

            “I rest,” Cybelle said modestly.  “I’m of a different Order than Flora and Angus.  I am much younger and not as Ultimate as they are.  I will accept your bed.”

            The high color in Jesse’s cheeks prompted Angus to say, “You know, Cybelle, when I met Flora, the nature of my form precluded a physical relationship.  Might I suggest that if you and Jesse are so destined, you not wait until his terrestrial escape to partake of the pleasures of the flesh.”

            “And might I suggest, Angus,” Cybelle countered graciously, “that you mind your own business!” 

            The mirth generated by their good spirits permeated the air.

 

AFTER A REFLECTIVE REPAST served to them by a zooidal aide, Andrew called the Special Session to order.  “We’ve all had a chance to think on it,” he said.  “The floor is open.”

            All the Board members started speaking at once, so Nathaniel suggested, “Why don’t we take a vote to find out where we stand?”

            “Good idea,” Andrew said, passing out paper and pencils. 

            A secret ballot was cast as to whether to wholeheartedly go with the new development or not.  To not go with it was not to rule it out, but to find out where the concerns were.  The vote was seven to five for acceptance.

            “Alright,” Andrew said when the votes were counted.  “We’ve got some work to do.  Who wants to start?  Shall we go around the table?   Peter?  What does Mediation and Arbitration have to say?”

            “I’m in favor of it.”

            “Any reason in particular?”

            “No.  It just seems right.  I mean, if what we do here is advanced, which we know it is, why shouldn’t we break through to something new?  It’s not going to hurt any of us to learn how they mediate differences.  They might be more highly evolved than we are, but I’m sure they have their differences just like anybody, and I’d appreciate their input.  I don’t always know what to say or do.  I don’t have all the answers -- nobody does -- but I am interested in the perspective of someone who might have a new insight.

            “What did that fellow Lanon say was going to happen?  He said if we were approved, communication would be opened between us and higher intelligences in the universe?  Hey,” Peter averred, “they might have gone through some of the things we haven’t worked out yet and  I’m game to listen to an outside opinion.”

            “Okay.  James?”

            James took a moment to check the clarity of his lenses before he embarked on his reason for voting no.  “I’m just not convinced they ought to be meddling in our affairs.   I mean, don’t they have their own world to take care of?  I can’t imagine setting aside my TASCs to go messing around with IBM or Mac.  I have enough to do right here.

            “I’m also concerned about the overload factor on the TASCs.  That fellow Angus is obviously some kind of powerhouse, and who knows what kind of energy it would require to handle his power blasts if someone came in and opened up a new program?  We have a lot invested in these TASCs.  People are just now starting to take full advantage of them.  The Educational Colonies use them, of course, and the younger Zooids have really caught on, but the older Zooids are just beginning to appreciate what a TASC can do besides entertain them.  That’s one worry.

            “My other concern has to do with Dissemination of Information.  How do you disseminate information from someone who isn’t even all there?  Angus’ face wouldn’t even show up on one of the TASCs and I can just see him scaring the children.  And even if they didn’t get on the TASCs themselves, how would you disseminate such information as they gave us today?  I’m afraid the Zooids would lose faith in us.”  He concluded, “I don’t know if they’re really believable or if we were simply impressed by their appearance.”

            “I appreciate your candor, James.  John, what are your thoughts about it?”

            “Well, I can see what your point is, James, but I think it would be great!  Can you imagine what Transportation and Relocation would be like with those people?  I mean, we’re talking about going places!  It’s not impossible that these beings arrived here in a space ship.  Are you aware of how much we could learn from them in terms of getting from here to there?  Imagine what we could accomplish in Transportation with those people working with us.  I think it’s very exciting.”

            “I wish I could be as excited about it as you are, John,” Phillip said.   “I might have my head in the sand but, we are a long way from zipping around in space travel.  The men at PSR are still crawling, man!   They haven’t even learned to walk yet, and here we are trying to get them to fly.  I’m afraid it would scare them, if you want to know the truth.  I’m afraid they’d be intimidated into regression.”

            “Okay,” Andrew coached.  “What about you, Nathaniel?”

            “Oh, why even bother to ask?  You know I’m in favor of it!  Those people know how to get along!  Okay?  Lanon is from some place called Zenton.  At least one of the women is from a place called Uriah, and the metaphysical one is from somewhere entirely different.  And they sat there in total accord!  Unity in diversity!  And did you hear the way they talked?  I mean, their voices were dripping with graciousness and authority.  I could learn a lot from them!

            “And as for Orientation, why shouldn’t new people coming into the colonies know from the start that we are in contact with other-terrestrials?  Just because the Air Force doesn’t want us to own up to intelligences beyond ours, doesn’t mean we have to deny them!”

            Andrew interrupted.  “I think I should remind you that they didn’t say they are here to help us.  Each one of them is doing their own thing.  It doesn’t mean they’re going to be active Zooids.  What about it, Matthew?”

            “I don’t think they’d do a thing for our financial status or for our legal matters either, for that matter.  I don’t mean to sound inhospitable and think only in terms of what they can do for us, but we do need to consider the extra work they would cause us.  Like, who is going to pay for this new structure, the Portal, and what’s it for?”

            “Thomas?”

            “I agree with Matthew.  I don’t know who would benefit by their being around.  Matter of fact, I like the idea of the Zooids being their own people.  Lanon says we’re highly evolved and that’s why they’re interested in us.  If that’s the case, then where were they when we really needed some help?  I didn’t see any space ships or magic flowers around when we were working twenty hours a day to do something about the mess this world was in.  The mess the world is still in, I should say.  So why are we acceptable and interesting all of a sudden?  Call me a doubting Thomas, but I think they ought to leave us alone.”

            “Samuel, what do you have to say?”

            “You know me, Andrew.  I’m always interested in generating good will.  If we can generate good will with other life in the universe, I’m all for it.  My opinion is not based on Resources, Sales and Distribution, but on my personal philosophy.  I figure if they’re bright enough to visit here, they’re bright enough to stay out of our way if and when we need to do it ourselves.  I vote to encourage it.”

            “You know,” Joseph philosophized, “if they had been here twenty years ago, we wouldn’t be able to claim our status as our own accomplishment.  There is really nothing as good for self-esteem as an accomplishment, and I think it is important for us to take credit for our efforts and to give credit to each other for all we’ve done.  Praise is a major motivator, and the fact is we have attained this evolutionary status by ourselves and through our own actions.  Had they been here when we first started, we would not be able to claim it.  We would still be back in the age when it was said that all good things come from above or from some outside source and we wouldn’t be able to feel the pride of our combined accomplishments.

            “The fact is,” he continued, “we did do it.  We reached this point by ourselves, by working together, and our reward is a level of attainment.  My understanding of this new era Jesse spoke about is that they have acknowledged our level of attainment.  By denying these communications, these visitations, we are saying, ‘Keep your gift; we don’t need your acknowledgment,’ and that is an anti-zooidal philosophy.  So my vote is, of course, to become an active part of the advancement of civilization, even to cosmic citizenship.”

            “Thank you, Joseph.  Well said.  Rebecca?  I sense some reluctance on your part.”

            “Speaking for Aesthetics and Public Relations, I believe they would make life difficult.  I know, Nathaniel, you think it would be an added incentive for newcomers at Orientation, but consider that it could cause an adverse affect.  If new people know we are in communication with other-terrestrials, they might think they wouldn't have to put forth so much of an effort.  Being a Zooid is hard work!  Not only are we productive and self-disciplined, but we spend inordinate amounts of time in simply growing!  Just getting along takes time, and I don’t want the new era, as they call it, to bring about sloth and indifference.

            “Aesthetically speaking, Cybelle and Flora and Lanon are some of the most aesthetically pleasing beings I’ve ever laid eyes on, so I’m not blind to their value.  I’m just concerned about what kind of an impression they might have on the others.”

            “Okay.  And what about you, Erica?”

            “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!  And the reason I urge you to consider what this would mean to us is that we would be helped just by their presence!  They are a positive force.  They are sensitive, intelligent, witty, and considerate.  They are Zooids!  They are like us, if you could see that point. They want the same things we want.  They have the same things to offer.  They are growing, contributing, loving members of the universe and I, personally, don’t see how we can deny anything they want!  I know that what they want is what we want, and if we should run into difficulty with, for example, people on the outside, I am convinced that they would know how to guide us in our resolutions.  Difficulty or no, I vote yes!”

            “Okay,” Andrew said.  “We have a few opinions to take under advisement.  First, let’s go back and recall what it was they said.  Lanon, I believe, is the one who is here to…. Let’s see.  My notes say, ‘to ascertain the evolutionary status of the Zooids and, if you meet with the approval of my supervisors, and if you are willing, the Jural Colony Project will be brought into open contact with the rest of the universe’.  Right?”

            “Right,” Peter said.  “And then the other guy, Angus, has got nothing to do with what Lanon is here for.  He just came because he does that when a planet reaches this stage in evolution.  He has nothing to do with us.”

            “Except,” Thomas added, “he’s an example of what we could expect to be coming and going all the time, and if he has the nerve to show his face, such as it is, who knows what else will show up!”

            “Well, really, Thomas, what makes you think you’re so cute?” Erica put in.  “Obviously if they were listening to this conversation, they wouldn’t think we were so advanced.”

            “Anybody have any objection to the phrase, ‘if they meet with the approval of my supervisors’?” Andrew asked.  No one could object  “Well, just what do you think it means to be in contact with the rest of the universe?  Anybody?”

            “Evidently it means we’ll be having more contact with people like Lanon, Angus, Cybelle and Flora,” Rebecca suggested.

            “Yeah, well, I can see that other-terrestrials like that might come here,” Joseph pondered, “but don’t you imagine that we would be able to go to wherever they come from, also?  I mean, they did call the new project the Portal, after all, and a portal is a door. A door to the universe, I suppose.”

            “Well, if that’s the case,” Matthew offered, “and they get to be more trouble than they’re worth, we can shut them out.  It’s our property.  I assume we’d hold the key.”

            Phillip nodded.  “That’s what we do at PSR.”

            “I think what you just said is important, Matthew,” Erica suggested.  “We hold the key.  I think this contact with the rest of the universe is totally dependent on our free will decision.”

            “Another point I think we should remember,” Rebecca said, “is that Jesse seems to be very pleased about it all and we’ve never had reason to distrust his instincts.”

            “He’s certainly pleased with the redhead,” Peter noted, “and that’s an instinct we haven’t seen Jesse use before.”

            Joseph added, “Remember that it was Professor Vessey who suggested that Jesse introduce us.”

            James asked, “What’s that got to do with it?”

            “If it weren’t for Professor Vessey, we wouldn’t even be here.  We’d still be living outside wondering what was the purpose of life, wondering why there was no joy in living, wondering how to make ends meet.  Professor Vessey is the founding father of the Zooids and he sanctioned our meeting these ... beings.”

            “I agree,” Samuel concurred.  “I trust Professor Vessey implicitly, even if I do have reservations about ... all this.”

            “Alright then,” Andrew went on.  “Assuming for a moment that this is something we decide to undertake, what do we do about our reservations?  What’s really the problem here?  Is it fear?  James, you say you don’t think they ought to be meddling in our affairs.  You’re concerned about the energy required for a new program for the TASCs.  And, you’re afraid the Zooids will lose faith in us if they are asked to swallow this.  Anybody have any ideas to help James see the other side of the coin?”

            After a moment Phillip admitted, “I really don’t think that picking a few of our wild flowers is meddling.  And Angus, who has evidently been here for some time already, did not show his face, such as it is, until he was formally introduced.  Which tells me they are showing some respect for our feelings, our reactions.”

            “It would seem,” Samuel added, “that they are sensitive to our sensibilities, yes.”

            “Cybelle was certainly charming,” Erica noted.  “Both of the females, in fact, welcomed us to the universe and were quite enchanting.”

            “As for the power,” John suggested, “we’ve got power.  The sun isn’t going to dry up on us.  Plus, did it take any of our power to get them here?  We didn’t fuel the ships.  Their coming and going hasn’t affected us at all, so why should we worry that we’re going to have to provide the energy?  Anyway, nobody ever said they were going to use the TASCs, James.”

            “You mentioned the impact they might have at PSR, Phillip.  Would you care to elaborate?”

            “Oh, not really.  I was just thinking aloud about how the men might react.  As I think about it again, though, maybe it would be a good idea for them to realize that they aren’t just rehabilitating themselves for the colonies or the outside, but for a potential life in the universe.  It kind of opens up a door for them, too.  So I’ll retract my ‘no’ vote at this time.”

            “Matthew, you mentioned you felt they would cause us extra work.  You want to give us anything else on that?”

            “I don’t want to, but I will because I have to admit to being lazy here.  Anybody that far advanced, who can traverse space, who can function without a body like Angus, anybody as beautiful as those females, of course they’re going to cause us extra work. We’re having to work right now just to accept them!  So I was not speaking so much in the sense of labor as I was in the sense of psychic, emotional or social work.  And, in that, I was just being lazy, so, never mind.  I’ll get used to it.”

            “It’s not a question of getting used to it, Matthew,” Erica remonstrated.  “It’s a matter of being willing, of being actively enthusiastic.  Here we go again, it’s a basic zooidal philosophy.”

            “Need you be reminded, Matthew,” Joseph said, “that there are rewards to be had at each new level of growth.  As we experience rewards from what we build here in the colonies, we will also experience rewards as a result of being open to universal concepts and personality adaptation.”

            “I know that,” Matthew growled.  “I told you, I was just being lazy.  And you all know that when it comes right down to it, I’m not lazy.  But I did want to put that on the record.  Where is your sense of humor?”

            “Ha Ha.”

            “Well, doubting Thomas, are you still steadfast in your belief that they are johnny-come-latelys?”

            “You voted ‘yes’, huh, Andrew?”

            Andrew nodded.

            “Am I the only one left?” Thomas asked.

            “Rebecca had misgivings as well.  Related to extra work, too, as I recall.”

            Rebecca flared slightly.  “Andrew, you know full well I am not afraid of work!  I simply said I didn’t want these new entities to get the impression that if we know them, we can sit on our duffs and not produce.  I didn’t want the new Zooids to think that our battles were won or that it was all going to be handed to us on a platter.  My concern was not so much extra work as it was just the opposite!”

            “Are you still concerned about that?”

            “After this discussion?  Heavens no!  It’s more than evident that much work remains to be done, even among ourselves.”

            “So I guess I’m the only one left then,” Thomas lamented.  “Alright, I’ll change my vote.”

            “You will not!” Andrew objected.  “If we’re going to go through with this, we’re going to do it enthusiastically or we aren’t going to do it at all!  So let’s hear it, Thomas.  Maybe you can sway us all to your point of view.”

            “Well, that would be a switch!” he said.  “No, really, I mean it.  I’ll go with the program.  Enthusiastically even.  We aren’t finished yet.  There’s still a lot of growing and improving to be done and if they just got here, so what?  Better late than never.”

            “Alright,” Andrew said.  “That was easier than I thought it would be.  Obviously there’s a lot of merit to Lanon’s proposal.”

            “But what does it mean?  That’s what I don’t understand,” Peter remarked.   “What does it mean to be brought into contact with the rest of the universe?  What’s out there?”

            Andrew admitted, “I don’t know what it means.  We called this meeting to decide if we would be willing to usher in a new era and we are.  What the effects will be, we have yet to learn.  But at least when we encounter one of these ... other-terrestrials, we will be able to greet them cordially.”

            Matthew cautioned, “And I don’t think, John, that it will mean we will be taking rides on their space ships.”

            “Although we might!” John insisted. 

            “Let’s ask Jesse.”

 

THE SPECIAL SESSION CONCLUDED, the Board members, followed by Doc Will, filed into the Main Conference Room once again while Andrew went to notify their Chairman they were ready to proceed.

            In deference to his colleagues, Jesse excused himself from his guests and dutifully returned to his work, calling the meeting again to order. 

            “Has the Board reached a consensus, Andrew?” 

            “Yes, Jesse.  The Board has voted to embrace the new era.”

            “Thank you.  Thank all of you,” Jesse repeated with a gratified grin.  “I am not able to act without you, nor would I, so I appreciate how quickly you’ve responded to the situation.  I am also glad we will all be involved in what I call ‘our extended existence into the galaxy’ because I know of no other way to describe it.  I am as new at all this as you are.”

            “Didn’t you say you talked to Alexius earlier?” Andrew asked.

            “Yes, I did, but he was taking everything in such stride I couldn’t remember all the things I had wanted to be alarmed about.”  He grinned sheepishly. 

             “We do have some questions we’d like to ask.”

            “Yes, you are entitled to some answers.  I’ll call Lanon back in.”

            “We’d like to see all of them, if that would be alright.”

            Jesse nodded.  Doc Will once again opened the doors for the Supernals who entered and again took their seats. This time the Board’s scrutiny was overt, but they all saw reflected back to them zooidal qualities of love, joy, harmony and cooperation, confirming for the Zooids that they had made the right choice.

               “The Board has agreed to cooperate, Lanon, so it appears you may proceed with your Zooid mission.”

            Lanon acknowledged their decision with a formality they had not expected.  “This is not only my mission, Jesse.” he said, representing the authority of his Home Station in his response. “It has been your mission throughout your life and the lives these Board members, whose dedication to the fellowship of its members rises to the standards of the Constellation Zenton.  In truth, this civilization of Zooids has been the mission of all co-operative and intelligent life, for it fosters those values that promote truth, cultivate beauty and reveal goodness throughout time and space. My Zenton supervisors have asked me to commend your courage and to thank you for your cooperation.”

            Jesse spoke for the Board.  “Please tell them we appreciate their regard.“

            Andrew added, “We have some questions we would like to ask.” 

            “What are your questions?” 

            “What will it mean for the JCP to be in open communication with other intelligent life in the universe?  And what is the purpose of The Portal?”

            Angus offered to explain.  “Intelligent life has been watching the development of your world and worlds similar to yours for millions of years.  This unique civilization of the Jural Colony Project, that you have created here with the Zooids, has now reached a point of evolution where it is capable of maintaining conscious contact with these intelligent life forms.”

            “What would they want to talk to us for?” Thomas asked.  “If they’ve been watching us all this time, they should know all about us.”

            Angus’ voice wore a wry smile.  “It would be more to your advantage to want to talk to them!”

            “But how?  The universe is a pretty big place!”

            “A method of direct communication is being programmed into your TASCs so that you will be able to communicate one-on-one.  I would say ‘face-to-face’ but... You understand my reluctance to use that phrase.”

            Several of the Board members twittered, fully appreciating Angus’ already-manifesting sense of humor.

            Doc Will, not to be left out, said, “You might think of it as cable television after having only the major channels.  You get a much wider range of ... entertainment.”

            Flora’s maternal nature expounded, “It will be a comfort to you when you fully accept that your world is not  isolated, that you are an integral part of a vast network of inter-connected life throughout the far-flung universe.”

            Cybelle added, “You will be personally encouraged by our presence in your lives.  You will find us able helpers for your physical needs and in your problem-solving efforts.”

            Jesse was sold.

            “Does this mean that we’ll be able to visit your worlds like you can visit us?” Matthew dared to inquire.

            “No,” Flora said.    “That is not within your purview.  Your arena is here.  Perhaps later, when you leave this sphere and have received some training, you will travel throughout space, but while you are housed in your tabernacle of flesh, you will remain here.”  Something in her warm, wise voice did not induce disappointment in John by that announcement.

            “The Portal.  What’s that for?” James asked.

            Jesse nodded to Lanon, who proceeded to say, “One of the side-effects of open communication with the universe will be the elimination of death as you have known it.”

            Thomas exclaimed, “The elimination of death!?  What do you take us for?”

            Flora said, “We take you as you are, Thomas,” and the conviction of her unconditional acceptance left him stunned.

            Doc Will now took the floor.  “The whole idea of death on this planet is morbid.  This morbidity seems to be perpetrated by those who profit from grief.  Frankly, I’m thrilled that something is finally going too be done about it.”

            “Death is merely a passage,” Lanon went on.  “It’s a journey through a door, and the Portal is the door you will go through to arrive at your next incarnation.”

            “The dread with which you regard death is precisely because you have not been in open contact with the universe,” Flora added.  “From this day forward, you will become increasingly aware that life and love are truly eternal.”

            “And far from occasioning concern,” Cybelle said, “terrestrial escape is an occasion for celebration!  It is a graduation, and should not bring about grief, but joy!”

            In general, the Board members did not look joyous.

            Jesse assured them, “Going through the Portal is not a requirement.  It’s only for those of you who want to use it.”

            “And I do!” Doc Will said simply, and all eyes riveted on him. He nodded.  “Just as soon as they get that computer rigged up, I’m going to be the first to volunteer.”

            “Actually, Doc,” Lanon clarified, “it’s not a matter of volunteering.  You have to ask for permission.”

            “Oh.  Well, then I’ll ask for permission.”  Doc Will guffawed.  “If I can remember how!  I don’t think I’ve asked permission for anything in the last fifty years!”

            “If it’s any consolation to you, Wilhelm,” Angus said, “I have to ask for permission for something every day.”

            Doc Will smiled.

            “We’d like to know who’s going to pay for all this,” Matthew demanded.  “Where do we get the materials to build a building that will withstand these mysterious energy implosions and who’s going to build it?”

            Angus enjoyed tit for tat.  “I guess if the powers-that-be can build a planet, they can build a Portal.”

            After a pause, Rebecca asked, “What about aesthetics?  What’s this building to look like?  It seems to me that even if it needs to be well constructed, it shouldn’t be so formidable as to exclude aesthetics.”

            “I agree with you entirely, Rebecca,” Cybelle volunteered.  “My work and yours are very similar in that regard.  It is my feeling that the Portal should resemble a temple or a shrine, and should induce a feeling of awe or splendor, don’t you agree?”

            Rebecca blinked.  “Absolutely.”

            “I would be happy to study examples of architecture while I am out gathering, if that would help you,” Flora said.

            Rebecca, now part of the solution, was surprised at how quickly and thoroughly she had become caught up in the new era and the new entities.  “That’s very kind of you, Flora.”

            “Erica,” Jesse said, “would you like to join this emerging Women’s Committee for the Design and Beautification of the Portal?”

            Erica, fully supportive of the new era and all it entailed, was pleased to join.  “Providing my work allows me to,” she said.  “I can see that this new development might play havoc in the minds of some of the Zooids.”

            “Which reminds me,” their administrator said.  “If you will, this is not for general dissemination yet.  We have not yet been approved, although Lanon feels assured that we will be.  We’d like to wait until the channel is open, the Portal is completed, and we have experienced at least one successful transmission before we tell the general populace.”

            Doc Will grunted.  “Yes, please!  Wait 'til I’m gone!  I’m getting too old to put up with their mental gymnastics.”

            Angus disagreed.  “You’re still a pup, Wilhelm!”

            “If you say so.”  He reached for a sheaf of papers he had with him.  “This pup would ask the Board’s permission to have this questionnaire sent around to the Elders.”  Distributing them to the Board members, he explained, “This is part of my original research on death and dying and I think it would help clarify how the Zooids in general, and the Elders in particular, will feel about the Portal.”

            “We’ll take that up in our general session, Dr. Blackstone.   Do any of you have any further questions of our guests?”

            Everyone had more questions but they held them in reserve, each resolving to go about their lives as usual, but to be prepared to meet again, on short notice if necessary, at the first noticeable development.





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