The Darkside Of The Sun

Chatogaster tried to explain. Intuition was too coarse a term; there was something in it of a leaf’s knowledge of how a tree grows; there was something warm, dreamy, arcane …
    May I rifle your memory? I shall need to. Thank you. You may experience a dreamlike sensation, however, I will leave your mind as I would wish to find it .
    Later the lake said: Generally speaking there is no dark side to a sun. Let us start with the Joker towers. Their casing at least is probably a giant molecule. Their use is not known, although they absorb power and appear to yield none. I feel bound to say that there is no apparent reason for their existence, any more than there is for a man, for example.
    It would seem that this assassin is out to prevent you from discovering this World. He may in fact be hastening your discovery by forcing you along paths you might not otherwise take.
    Let us consider the Jokers themselves. That they existed cannot be doubted. They have left artefacts, the greatest of which are the Chain Stars, which proves they had power and perhaps bravado; they left the Centre of the Universe on Wolf, which suggests they had an understanding of the underlying truisms of Totality; and they left the Tomorrow Strata on Third Eye, which I believe means they at least experimented with time travel. There is a fundamental mistake, though, in assuming that the Jokers are the sum of their creations. These may have been toys, relics of the Jokers’ youth. Astronomical evidence suggests that if they evolved on a world it may well be dead and gone by now. The fact that Jokers World has not been found within the ‘life-bubble’ does not lead me to believe it is hidden. I find I believe it is not there. It must be obvious that ‘the dark side of the sun’ is an idea rather than a place.
    ‘It had crossed my mind,’ admitted Dom. He was sitting in the ooze, watching the light dance on the surface overhead. ‘Is it a poetic image?’
    Poetry is the highest art. The Jokers must have achieved it .
    Dom sighed. ‘I had an idea at the start that it was just a matter of finding some cute explanation like – well, like Hrsh-Hgn’s.’
    That is in fact very poetic, and quite possible. But it ...
    Another lapse into intranslatability. An itch; a sense of wrongness, traditionally embodied in the almost physical pain some people experienced in seeing a picture hung crooked and being unable to right it; a feeling of discord.
    That would make them like Creapii. Environment conditions the mind, and the Jokers did not think like Creapii. However, the Creapii are indubitably the most advanced race at present. I suggest you study them. In the Creapii is a clue to the Jokers .
    ‘So I won’t discover a world.’
    I did not say so. But the idea is more important. Do you not say ‘the world of the common wasp’, or ‘the world of the poet’? They are worlds, and only incidentally include some reference to a physical reality like a planet .
    ‘I think I see,’ said Dom, getting up. ‘The world of the Jokers may be just a way of looking at the universe?’
    Precisely .
    ‘I shall visit the Creapii.’ He tried to remember. ‘I think the High-Degrees have just opened a study raft on the Chain Stars, haven’t they?’
    So I understand. Since the High-Degrees represent the most advanced Creapii and specialize in the study of other lifeforms your choice of destination is a good one.
    Dom prepared to swim to the surface, but stopped. ‘There was something you wanted me to do?’
    It is a great favour. You are Chairman of Widdershins, a world largely composed of water?
    ‘On the surface, yes. Over ninety per cent, including the marshes.’
    I would like to emigrate .
    Chatogaster explained. Band was a pleasant world, but lacked stimulation. He could communicate with the liquid content of sundogs who had as pups drunk from the lake, and hence through their own telepathy – which was no more than a by-function of their massive brains – learn from the minds of travellers. But Chatogaster wanted to spread out. He needed no ship. If Dom could take the little container that had held his drinking water, and let it be filled, enough of Chatogaster could be taken to Widdershins to let the great Tethys ocean become Chatogaster as well. He was persuasive.
    I could take care of your fish, and police your sea-lanes. I could provide surf with the muscles of the tide, and an inspiration for your poets. Who drinks of me drinks of the well of the