Es Percipi

In Short

This sharp, mid-century science fiction tale explores the existential crisis triggered by the arrival of the Targoffians, aliens who can manifest objects—and people—out of nothingness. As the Earth’s socio-economic fabric unravels under the weight of these "perceived" creations, a State Department official named Bryan Channing finds himself caught in a high-stakes struggle to maintain his own identity and reality. It is a cynical, intellectually playful meditation on the fragility of human existence, remaining relevant for its unsettling look at how easily a society can be manipulated by manufactured truths.

The Story

Bryan Channing, a thirty-thousand-dollar-a-year diplomat, is already overwhelmed. The Targoffian Ambassador, Qui Dor, is flooding the Earth with "miracle" products and even surrogate humans, all of which are technically "real" only if someone is watching them. The Department of Health and Public Welfare is horrified, reporting staggering statistics on divorce and social breakdown linked to these creations, while the reptilian Denebian Ambassador watches from the sidelines, gleefully stoking the flames of chaos.

Channing’s own life becomes a battleground when his wife, Ellen, decides to keep an artificial child, Stephanie. Tensions peak when a duplicate of Channing appears, claiming to be the "real" one. The two Channings engage in a cold war of identity, both desperate to prove their authenticity before the other is "willed" out of existence by Qui Dor. The situation descends into absurdity as the two doubles argue over who has the right to be married, who is the "copy," and who gets to retain his job.

The climax arrives in a tense, surreal meeting between the two Channings, the Secretary of State, the persistent Mrs. Delacourt from Welfare, and the alien ambassadors. As Qui Dor begins to "eliminate" the copy, the reality of the situation hits: once an object—or person—is destroyed, the collective memory of its existence is wiped from the minds of everyone who perceived it. The copy vanishes, and the Secretary of State and Channing immediately forget the entire conflict, left only with a vague sense of unease.

The ending reveals a final, terrifying twist. Channing realizes that the Targoffians themselves were a fabrication, created by the Denebians to manipulate human perception. As the truth flashes in his mind, it is instantly erased by the very nature of their reality-bending power. The story closes with the universe continuing as if nothing happened; a distant star vanishes from the sky, ignored because it lacks planets of interest. Channing returns to his dinner, his memory scrubbed clean of the cosmic conspiracy that nearly cost him his life and his marriage, leaving the reader with the cold, lingering suspicion that everything—including the world itself—might just be a temporary projection.

How It Unfolds

The diplomatic dilemma Channing struggles to manage the fallout of Targoffian imports, which defy conventional physics and frustrate government officials. He is caught between the demands of the Department of Health and the posturing of the rival Denebian embassy.

The domestic intrusion Channing’s home life collapses as his wife embraces the Targoffian technology, adopting an artificial baby named Stephanie. This personal conflict mirrors the larger societal decay as the public begins to prefer the ease of "perceived" realities over natural ones.

The doubling of the self A duplicate Channing appears, leading to a frantic struggle for supremacy. The presence of two identical men forces a confrontation with the terrifying philosophical implication: if you can be replaced, can you ever truly be said to exist?

The final erasure In a high-level meeting, the "copy" is willed out of existence, causing an immediate, total memory wipe for everyone involved. The narrative ends on a note of chilling normalcy, where the characters have forgotten the very catastrophe that just occurred.

The People

Bryan Channing is the weary, cynical diplomat who wants to maintain the status quo but is forced to confront the philosophical void beneath his reality. He is defined by his struggle to remain "real" in a world where authenticity is becoming an outdated concept.

Ellen Channing is the catalyst for the domestic crisis; she finds comfort in the ease of Targoffian creations. Her desire for the artificial child, Stephanie, drives the wedge between her and Bryan, highlighting the emotional appeal of the illusion.

Qui Dor, the Targoffian Ambassador, acts as a detached, bird-like avatar of pure philosophy. He does not claim godhood, yet he possesses the power to rewrite existence, treating human lives as mere "collocations of qualities" to be shifted or erased at will.

The Denebian Ambassador (Sarchix) serves as the unseen hand. He is the ultimate manipulator, gloating over the chaos he has manufactured, revealing that the entire diplomatic crisis was merely a power play between alien factions.

In Its Own Voice

"The galaxy would hardly know the difference if sub-space opened up a world-sized pocket tomorrow and swallowed Targoff and its sun."

(Channing expresses his cynical frustration with the diplomatic burden of dealing with the Targoffian Ambassador.)

"Esse es percipi, Mr. Channing. No one's been murdered. There's no corpse. No one exists."

(Mrs. Delacourt explains the terrifying legal and philosophical loophole regarding the disappearance of Targoffian creations.)

"When the second Channing disappears, so will your memory of him. You will remember that any individual, any object--created by me or not--is merely a collocation of qualities perceived by you."

(Qui Dor describes the mechanism of the memory wipe that ensures human society remains oblivious to the manipulation.)

What It's Really About

At its core, this is a dramatization of Bishop Berkeley’s subjective idealism—esse est percipi ("to be is to be perceived"). It poses a disturbing question: if our reality is constructed entirely from sensory inputs, how can we prove an objective world exists? The book serves as an argument that a society which prioritizes convenience and perception over truth is inherently vulnerable to total erasure. It suggests that our memories, identities, and social structures are fragile constructs, easily dismantled by anyone who controls the "perceptions" we rely on.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy mid-century speculative fiction that leans into philosophical dread will find this a fascinating, if brief, read. It captures the mid-1950s cultural anxiety regarding technological progress and the loss of individual agency. The dialogue is snappy and carries the clipped, professional tone of a noir-inflected political thriller, making the metaphysical horror feel surprisingly grounded.

However, prospective readers should be aware that the prose reflects the era’s gender dynamics and the occasional abruptness of "pulp" science fiction of the 1950s. The pacing is rapid, and the book does not stop to explain its concepts; it expects you to keep up as the reality of the characters slides into incoherence. It is not a lengthy or dense novel, but it is deeply unsettling. What stays with you long after the final page is the implication that we are all, in a sense, living in a "perceived" reality. It forces you to look at your own world—the things you touch, the people you love, and the memories you hold—and wonder how much of it would vanish if someone simply stopped looking.