Embracing The Different

In Dr. Gregory Benford’s novel The Stars in Shroud, Ling’s status as Fleet Commandant makes him the top empire official on Veden.  As such, he receives invitations from all of the planet's high society.  Yet he cannot forget how those of the more dominant Mongol race were waiting to pounce on any opportunity to depose him.  When Tonji’s challenge led to his court-martial, and later, when he was forced to brave the dangers of the Flinger in a mere lifepod, it became clear to him that his minority status would always separate him from those of the majority race.  Why should the upper crust of another society value him more highly than his own?  So he does the unthinkable: he declines invitations to visit and join the important social organizations on Veden.

At Rhandra’s urging, he visits the Temple of the Madi though.  There he speaks with the woman who seems to represent the pinnacle of Hindic religion and philosophy.  He listens to lectures on the conservation of vital fluids, watches adepts learning to control their heart rate or body temperature, and watches students attempt such fantastic feats as walking on water.  He asks the Madi,” You believe Yoga can counter loss of phase?”

“Perhaps, in time,” she responds.  “But that is surely not the point.  These things must be realized with the heart and spirit, not merely with the mind.  It may take you a while to come to such knowledge.”  

Although she offers him membership, Ling declines.  He sees what occurs at the Madi’s Temple as little more than cheap tricks, pseudo-rationalizations, and reliance on images and Gods.  While the Hindic religion might once have offered peace and serenity, he sees the current form as decadent.  Was this because of the Quarm?  Had some manifestation of the alien plague, which had not yet attacked the people of Veden, nevertheless exerted a subtle influence upon the religion that might have helped the planet’s inhabitants defend themselves against a loss of phase?

Certainly Fleet is losing their war against the Quarm.  The alien race was striking further into the heart of the Empire.  Ling’s worries about the family he left behind on Earth increase.  Had he left them behind only to die?

While he might have survived the Quarm plague, he knows he is not whole.  Every morning he wakes up, his head dizzy, and pervaded with a strange listlessness he cannot banish.  Before the Quarm attacked humanity with the plague, he drew solace from the meditation and group perception involved in Sabal.  But the game of Sabal is not Solitaire: it can only be played with a group.  Nor is it easily learned: it is a skill learned over time, a craft that must be practiced daily for years before it can provide the solace and enlightenment Ling yearns for.  But might other spiritual ways beyond Sabal, and the Madi’s decadent form of the Hindic religion, be open to him?  

One morning, when listlessness overwhelms him, Rhandra tempts him out on an excursion into an older section of the city of Kalic.  Ling is amazed by the rich tapestry of life which surrounds him.

“The streets were a jumble of rickshaws, herds of panting water buffalo, camels straining under huge bundles, cows meandering.  A gang of cortically augmented elephants shuffled in the dust, doing roadwork without human supervision.  Along the river Brahmins and Sadhus and Hindics on pilgrimage were bathing, wringing water from their oiled hair, praying rhythmically, brushing their teeth, doing yoga exercises.  Votaries danced, clacking.  Temples lined the narrow twisting streets that smoked with dust.”

In this environment, Ling spots a crowd that has gathered around a savant.  His assistant Majumbdahr is always urging him to see more of Hindic culture, but Rhandra suggests he not try to join this group.  As Fleet Commandant, he has the right to go anywhere, and yet those who guard the savant will not allow him to join the crowd.  Instead, Ling is rebuffed, forced to leave.  As Ling walks away, he tries to hear what the savant is teaching the crowd, but all he hears is the distant murmuring of voices.

Those of us who are in a community sometimes feel as though demographics are all important.  To function well with the group, a good member has got to dress, act, and speak in the prescribed manner.  Anyone different from the norm cannot possibly belong or add to the group experience.  Just as there are reasons why Ling is turned away from this particular group, which he will learn in time, there are understandable reasons why we occasionally turn others away.  Perhaps we do not physically prevent outsiders from joining us, but often we surround our hearts with an invisible wall, and refuse to tear it down unless the visitor can demonstrate, beyond all reasonable doubt, that he will "fit in."  

Shouldn’t we open our hearts to all, and willingly embrace the different?  Isn’t that why we join groups to begin with, so that we may be made stronger, more effective, and more whole, by interacting with others with differing gifts and abilities?  If we cannot do this, if we cannot embrace the different, then we prove ourselves just as decadent as the more monolithic human cultures being destroyed by the Quarm plague.

Related Dragon Cache entries:

Our Need for Interdependence

Ling’s Courage

Those Detestable Ofkaipan