Canner wasn’t exactly frustrated; it was impossible to be frustrated with the guides, as they were the source of all that was good and worthwhile in the universe. But at times they seemed to have difficulty grasping matters that seemed simple enough to him. “No, it’s not an issue of tissue degradation. The physical structures of the brains of your faithful are essentially unharmed by your interventions.”
<Then we do not understand. The faithful gradually lose efficacy after receiving the sacrament. In some, the progression is slower, and in others faster, but in every case, decline has proven inevitable. Our earliest converts are bedridden now, and almost entirely insensible. >
“As I said, it’s a matter of overstimulation, great ones.” Canner sat at the desk in his medical office, buoyed by the constant cloud of happy chemicals that had suffused him since his conversion. He had files of brain scans and blood test data before him, all gathered through the network of the faithful and sent to him for analysis. Their fellowship boasted many politicians and members of the military, but very few scientists, and Canner had been tasked to deal with the intractable problem of mental decay among the faithful.
“Your sacrament provides bliss when we please you, and a constant sense of well-being, and the sure knowledge that our service is meaningful and essential. The experience is glorious . But… the brains of humans, Hylar, Hacan, Xxcha, the Letnev, all the species you have seen fit to bless – they are adaptable things. Neural pathways can be rewired, new pathways created, and we are rewired to better serve you… but there are trade-offs. There are troubling long-term changes, but even short-term… surely you’ve noticed that even new converts seem to lose a certain degree of creativity, and the ability to adapt to unforeseen situations? Thinking very deeply, without getting distracted, becomes harder for us, too.”
<The faithful look to us for guidance. Perhaps… slightly more than is ideal. >
“I would never presume to say so, guides!” Canner spoke with absolute sincerity. “In addition to those very mild deficits, however, your followers also develop a tolerance to the effects of the sacrament, and that resistance intensifies over time.”
<Resistance? Do you suggest that the faithful wish to defy us? >
“Not consciously, guides!” Canner was terrified of offending his benefactors. “I’m sure all the faithful, like myself, are delighted to serve you. The path forward has never been so clear, and when I think back on my life before, I see only a gray haze of poisonous ambition and resentment. Now everything is bright and clean. You have our minds. But our bodies … those are, to an extent, autonomous things, beyond the direct control of our minds. Our brains become resistant to specific forms of pleasure, when those pleasures are experienced too frequently and intensely. Hormones become depleted and take time to be replenished. Receptors can become overwhelmed and cease to bind to chemicals as strongly as they once did. Our bodies also have myriad methods to resist what they perceive as, ah, invaders.”
There was no answer from the guides, but there was a sort of expectant silence.
“As time goes on, and the impact of the sacrament begins to wane, the faithful become… less faithful.” A distant part of Canner’s mind was shouting at him: Listen to this, listen to yourself, don’t you understand? That part of him was easy to ignore. He hadn’t been faithful for very long and had only experienced the positive effects of the sacrament. “They begin to return to their old selves – their flawed, terrible, selfish selves – and as a result, the sacrament increases its efforts, in order to prevent the faithful from straying, and regain the lost equilibrium. The growths in their brains create analogues to the hormones and other chemicals that have been depleted and increase stimulation in other areas of the brain as well. As a result, the faithful do remain devoted, but then, they develop a tolerance to that new level of stimulation… and so the stimulation must increase again. As the chemical interventions grow more powerful, mental functions diminish.”
<Why do they diminish? >
Canner sighed. “Basically, their brains become so flooded with bliss-inducing chemicals that other functions are overwhelmed. Motor control begins to fail, first on a fine level, and then a gross one. Their underlying personalities and skills vanish beneath a rising tide of chemicals. Eventually all that is left is a vague and hazy sense of compliance and well-being, but without the ability to make independent decisions.” Or, indeed, casual cocktail party conversation. “The autonomic functions persist, so they breathe, and their hearts beat. They remain faithful, too, of course! The sacrament sees to that. Their faith just… isn’t good for much anymore.” That same decline will happen to me , Canner thought, and a spike of clarifying terror flooded his mind before being washed away by the release of counteracting chemicals to keep him calm. He sighed contentedly.
<We understand, > the guides said. <How can this problem be dealt with? >
Canner shook himself out of his brief, blissful reverie. “What? Oh. I can’t think of a way, really. You could counteract the soporific effects with stimulants, I suppose, but that will also make the faithful more resistant to the sacrament’s soothing effects. Essentially, all of the faithful are on intense doses of recreational drugs, and long-term users of those sorts of drugs… generally suffer ill effects. In the absence of the sacrament, even the most far gone of the faithful would improve, and with time and therapy and medication most would recover fully. But, of course, their lives would be empty and meaningless, and none of us would wish for that.”
<No solution, > the guides murmured. <That is unfortunate. But we have time. If the plan is not interrupted, we have time. >
“Will you tell me, guides, what is the nature of the great work?” Canner had never been more eager to know anything. “What is the glorious future we are helping usher into being?”
<You will see, faithful one. The old stars will be extinguished, and new stars born, and the void itself will seem to burn. >
“Beautiful,” Canner murmured, and sank into the blissful haze of a job well done.