“How polite.”
“Polite plus precise.”
Of course, he couldn’t really be sure Dors bailed out of Sheelah when a male came by for a quick one. (They were always quick, too-thirty seconds or less.) Could she exit the pan mind that quickly? He required a few moments to extricate himself. Of course, if she saw the male coming, guessed his intentions…
He was surprised at himself. What role did jealousy have when they were inhabiting other bodies? Did the usual moral code make any sense? Yet to talk this over with her was…embarrassing.
He was still the country boy from Helicon, like it or not.
Ruefully he concentrated on his meal of local “roamer-fleisch,” which turned out to be an earthy, dark meat in a stew of tangy vegetables. He ate heartily, and in response to Dors’ rather obviously amused silence said, “I’d point out that pans understand commerce, too. Food for sex, betrayal of the leader for sex, spare my child for sex, grooming for sex, just about anything for sex.”
“It does seem to be their social currency. Short and decidedly not sweet. Just quick lunges, strong sensations, then boom-it’s over.”
“The males need it, the females use it.”
“Ummm, you’ve been taking notes.”
“If I’m going to model pans as a sort of simplified people, then I must.”
“Model pans?” came the assured tones of Ex Spec Vaddo. “They’re not model citizens, if that’s what you mean.” He gave them a sunny smile and Hari guessed this was more of the obligatory friendliness of this place.
Hari smiled mechanically. “I’m trying to find the variables that could describe pan behavior.”
“You should spend a lot of time with them,” Vaddo said, sitting at the table and holding up a finger to a waiter for a drink. “They’re subtle creatures.”
“I agree,” said Dors. “Do you ride them very much?”
“Some, but most of our research is done differently now.” Vaddo’s mouth twisted ruefully. “Statistical models, that sort of thing. I got this touring idea started, using the immersion tech we had developed earlier, to make money for the project. Otherwise, we’d have had to close.”
“I’m happy to contribute,” Hari said.
“Admit it-you like it,” Dors said, amused. “Well, yes. It’s…different.”
“And good for the staid Professor Seldon to get out of his shell,” she said.
Vaddo beamed. “Be sure you don’t take chances out there. Some of our customers think they’re superpans or something.”
Dors’ eyes flickered. “What danger is there? Our bodies are in slowtime, back here.”
Vaddo said, “You’re strongly linked. A big shock to a pan can drive a back-shock in your own neurological systems.”
“What sort of shock?” Hari asked.
“Death, major injury.”
“In that case,” Dors said to Hari, “I really do not think you should immerse.”
Hari felt irked. “Come on! I’m on vacation, not in prison.”
“Any threat to you-”
“Just a minute ago you were rhapsodizing about how good for me it was.”
“You’re too important to-”
“There’s really very little danger,” Vaddo came in smoothly. “Pans don’t die suddenly, usually.”
“And I can bailout when I see danger coming,” Hari added.
“But will you? I think you’re getting a taste for adventure.”
She was right, but he wasn’t going to concede the point. If he wanted a little escape from his humdrum mathematician’s routine, so much the better. “I like being out of Trantor’s endless corridors.”
Vaddo gave Dors a confident smile. “And we haven’t lost a tourist yet.”
“How about research staff?” she shot back.
“Well, that was a most unusual-”
“What happened?”
“A pan fell off a ledge. The human operator couldn’t bailout in time and she came out of it paralyzed. The shock of experiencing death through immersion is known from other incidents to prove fatal. But we have systems in place now to short circuit-”
“What else?” she persisted.
“Well, there was one difficult episode. In the early days, when we had simple wire fences.” The Ex Spec shifted uneasily. “Some predators got in.”
“What sort of predators?”
“A primate pack hunter, Carnopapio grandis. We call them raboons, because they’re genetically related to a small primate on another continent. Their DNA-”
“How did they get in?” Dors insisted.
“They’re somewhat like a wild hog, with hooves that double as diggers. They smelled game-our corralled animals. Dug under the fences.”
Dors eyed the high, solid walls. “These are adequate?”
“Certainly. Raboons share DNA with the pans and we believe they’re from an ancient genetic experiment. Someone tried to make a predator by raising the earlier stock up onto two legs. Like most bipedal predators, the forelimbs are shortened and the head carried forward, balanced by a thick tail they use for signaling to each other. They prey on the biggest herd animals, the gigantelope, eating only the richest meat.”
“Why attack humans?”
“They take targets of opportunity, too. Pans, even. When they got into the compound, they went for adult humans, not children-a very selective strategy.”
Dors shivered. “You look at all this very…objectively.”
“I’m a biologist.”
“I never knew it could be so interesting,” Hari said to defuse her apprehension.
Vaddo beamed. “Not as involving as higher mathematics, I’m sure.”
Dors’ mouth twisted with wry skepticism. “Do you mind if guests carry weapons inside the compound?”
9.
He had a glimmering of an idea about the pans, a way to use their behaviors in building a simple toy model of psychohistory. He might be able to use the statistics of pan troop movements, the ups and downs of their shifting fortunes.
Pictured in system-space, living structures worked at the edge of a chaotic terrain. Life as a whole harvested the fruits of a large menu of possible path-choices. Natural selection first achieved, then sustained this edgy state.
Whole biospheres shifted their equilibrium points amid energetic flowthrough-like birds banking on winds, he thought, watching some big yellow ones glide over the station, taking advantage of the updrafts.
Like them, whole biological systems sometimes hovered at stagnation points. Systems were able to choose several paths of descent. Sometimes-to stretch the analogy-they could eat the tasty insects which came up to them on those same tricky breezes.
Failure to negotiate such winds of change meant the pattern forfeited its systemic integrity. Energies dissipated. Crucial was the fact that any seemingly stable state was actually a trick of dynamic feedback.
No static state existed-except one. A biological system at perfect equilibrium was simply dead.
So, too, psychohistory?
He talked it over with Dors and she nodded. Beneath her apparent calm she was worried. Since Vaddo’s remark she was always tut-tutting about safety. He reminded her that she had earlier urged him to do more immersions. “This is a vacation, remember?” he said more than once.
Her amused sidewise glances told him that she also didn’t buy his talk about the toy modeling. She thought he just liked romping in the woods. “A country boy at heart,” she chuckled.
So the next morning he skipped a planned trek to view the gigantelope herds. Immediately he and Dors went to the immersion chambers and slipped under. To get some solid work done, he told himself.
“What’s this?” He gestured to a small tiktok stationed between their immersion pods.
“Precaution,” Dors said. “I don’t want anyone tampering with our chambers while we’re under.”