It was midafternoon at Lake Loreen, but dark enough that Kusu Lormagen had the lights on in the lab. Thunder muttered, and sleet rattled on the windows. He sat at his desk reading a thin sheaf of papers, while Lotta Alsnor watched from a tall lab stool. When he'd finished, he looked up at her.
"You're convinced then," he said.
"Right. A ported mammal goes berserk because teleportation reactivates every terror, every pain, every rage it ever felt. Or inherited, so to speak. Its whole case turns on, all at once, full force and out of context."
Kusu grunted. "Even those that were sedated and unconscious . . ."
"Right. Beneath that unconsciousness, an absolute mental frenzy broke out.
"Since then you've exposed mammals to each of the constituent fields, separately and in partial combinations, without severe effects. Mostly they didn't even notice. The most logical conclusion is that it's the actual transfer that activates their cases."
She paused for emphasis. "The point is, that if you teleported a mammal without a significant case, it would come through sane and safe."
He smiled at her. "Can you provide me with a mammal like that?"
She nodded. "As near as need be, yes. Me."
Kusu laughed. "Serves me right for asking." Then, more seriously: "You haven't proved your thesis though. The evidence is highly suggestive, but by no means conclusive." She said nothing. "I know," he went on. "You're volunteering to be the proof.
"But consider: It's not vital that we teleport humans. Or any mammals. Teleporting manufactured goods, foodstuffs, mail, almost anything else you want to name, will make this far and away the biggest technical advance since the invention of hyperdrive."
Lotta shook her head. "Human teleportation is where the biggest potential lies," she said. "And you've got a made-to-order experimental subject: me. Use it."
" 'No significant case,' " he said. "How do you know what the level of significance is?"
She shrugged. "The evaluation is subjective, obviously. But it's the only informed evaluation you're likely to get."
"Why shouldn't we test it with someone else who knows the T'sel? Me for example."
"Why don't you answer that?"
"Sure. Because you feel significant uncertainty about your evaluation. You don't want someone else to risk their life on it, or at least their sanity."
Lotta nodded. "Certainly not your life. It might take quite awhile before someone else could digest your logbooks and interim write-ups and figure out what to do next."
Kusu laughed again. "What makes you think I know what to do next?"
"You know several things you could do next. You're just not sure which to choose."
"True. Well. To paraphrase a famous Pertunian principle: When you don't know what to do, grab an option, at random if you have to, and do it. So. Supposing we subject you to some constituent fields, one at a time, and you can evaluate subjectively what each of them feels like. To a human, not a sorlex or soney. A human that knows the T'sel. And after light tranquilization, just to hedge our bet."
She shook her head. "We know tranks don't help. The rest of it I'll go with."
Kusu smiled. "It's a deal. It'll take some time to build a port big enough for a human. We have the design and some of the components, but others are still being built. You draw up a set of safety precautions for my approval, and meanwhile I'll expedite the hardware."
She nodded. "I'll have a draft of the safety proposals for you in the morning."
"Good. Oh! And one thing more: Be sure they include having Wellem standing by. If you come through like the sorlex did, maybe he can bail you out."