diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 202561 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727-h/20727-h.htm | 8479 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727-h/images/cover.gif | bin | 0 -> 30224 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727-h/images/image001.gif | bin | 0 -> 12700 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727-page-images.zip | bin | 0 -> 11499335 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727.txt | 8321 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 20727.zip | bin | 0 -> 152050 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
10 files changed, 16816 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20727-h.zip b/20727-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ca5a5c --- /dev/null +++ b/20727-h.zip diff --git a/20727-h/20727-h.htm b/20727-h/20727-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f9a497 --- /dev/null +++ b/20727-h/20727-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8479 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cosmic Computer by H. Beam Piper + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + img{border:none;} + + .pagenum { + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .block {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} /* block indent */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center ;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cosmic Computer, by Henry Beam Piper + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cosmic Computer + +Author: Henry Beam Piper + +Release Date: May 23, 2007 [EBook #20727] +[This file was first posted on March 3, 2007] +[Last updated: June 14, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COSMIC COMPUTER *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bethanne M. Simms, Jason Isbell, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<hr /> + +<h4>Transcriber's Note</h4> + +<p style="text-align: center;">Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> + +<hr /> + + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="./images/cover.gif"><img src="./images/cover.gif" alt=" " /></a></div> +<hr /> + + + + + + + +<p class='block'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span>Conn Maxwell told them: "There are incredible things still +undiscovered; most of the important installations were built in +duplicate as a precaution against space attack. I know where all of +them are. +<br /> +<br /> +"But I could find nothing, not one single word, about any giant +strategic planning computer called Merlin!" +<br /> +<br /> +Nevertheless the leading men of the planet didn't believe him. They +couldn't, for the search for Merlin had become their abiding +obsession. Merlin meant everything to them: power, pleasures, and +profits unlimited. +<br /> +<br />Conn had known they'd never believe him, and so he had a trick or two +up his space-trained sleeve that might outwit even their fabled Cosmic +Computer ... if they dared accept his challenge.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +<b>H. BEAM PIPER</b> is rather enigmatic where his personal statistics are +concerned. It may be stated that he lives in Williamsport, +Pennsylvania, that he is an expert on the history and use of hand +weapons, that he has been writing and selling science-fiction for many +years to the leading magazines, and that he is highly rated among +readers for his skill and imagination. He has had several novels +published, including mysteries and juveniles.</p> + +<p>His previous appearances in Ace Books include two novels written in +collaboration with John J. McGuire: CRISIS IN 2140 (D-227) and A +PLANET FOR TEXANS (D-299), and a longer entirely self-authored novel +SPACE VIKING (F-225).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE COSMIC COMPUTER</h1> + + +<h4>(Original Title: Junkyard Planet)</h4> + +<h3>H. BEAM PIPER</h3> + +<h4>ACE BOOKS, INC. +<br /> +<br /> +1120 Avenue of the Americas +<br /> +<br /> +New York, N.Y. 10036<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></h4> + + +<h4>THE COSMIC COMPUTER (JUNKYARD PLANET) +<br /> +<br /> +Copyright ©, 1963, by H. Beam Piper +<br /> +<br /> +An Ace Book, by arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons +<br /> +<br /> +All Rights Reserved +<br /> +<br /> +Printed in U.S.A.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></h4> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="./images/image001.gif"><img src="./images/image001.gif" alt=" " /></a></div> +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="#I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> +<a href="#II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> +<a href="#III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> +<a href="#IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> +<a href="#VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<p>Thirty minutes to Litchfield.</p> + +<p>Conn Maxwell, at the armor-glass front of the observation deck, +watched the landscape rush out of the horizon and vanish beneath the +ship, ten thousand feet down. He thought he knew how an hourglass must +feel with the sand slowly draining out.</p> + +<p>It had been six months to Litchfield when the <i>Mizar</i> lifted out of La +Plata Spaceport and he watched Terra dwindle away. It had been two +months to Litchfield when he boarded the <i>City of Asgard</i> at the port +of the same name on Odin. It had been two hours to Litchfield when the +<i>Countess Dorothy</i> rose from the airship dock at Storisende. He had +had all that time, and now it was gone, and he was still unprepared +for what he must face at home.</p> + +<p>Thirty minutes to Litchfield.</p> + +<p>The words echoed in his mind as though he had spoken them aloud, and +then, realizing that he never addressed himself as sir, he turned. It +was the first mate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had a clipboard in his hand, and he was wearing a Terran Federation +Space Navy uniform of forty years, or about a dozen regulation-changes, +ago. Once Conn had taken that sort of thing for granted. Now it was +obtruding upon him everywhere.</p> + +<p>"Thirty minutes to Litchfield, sir," the first officer repeated, and +gave him the clipboard to check the luggage list. Valises, two; +trunks, two; microbook case, one. The last item fanned a small flicker +of anger, not at any person, not even at himself, but at the whole +infernal situation. He nodded.</p> + +<p>"That's everything. Not many passengers left aboard, are there?"</p> + +<p>"You're the only one, first class, sir. About forty farm laborers on +the lower deck." He dismissed them as mere cargo. "Litchfield's the +end of the run."</p> + +<p>"I know. I was born there."</p> + +<p>The mate looked again at his name on the list and grinned.</p> + +<p>"Sure; you're Rodney Maxwell's son. Your father's been giving us a lot +of freight lately. I guess I don't have to tell you about Litchfield."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you do. I've been away for six years. Tell me, are they having +labor trouble now?"</p> + +<p>"Labor trouble?" The mate was surprised. "You mean with the +farm-tramps? Ten of them for every job, if you call that trouble."</p> + +<p>"Well, I noticed you have steel gratings over the gangway heads to the +lower deck, and all your crewmen are armed. Not just pistols, either."</p> + +<p>"Oh. That's on account of pirates."</p> + +<p>"Pirates?" Conn echoed.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess you'd call them that. A gang'll come aboard, dressed +like farm-tramps; they'll have tommy guns and sawed-off shotguns in +their bindles. When the ship's airborne and out of reach of help, +they'll break out their guns and take her. Usually kill all the crew +and passengers. They don't like to leave live witnesses," the mate +said. "You heard about the <i>Harriet Barne</i>, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>She was Transcontinent & Overseas, the biggest contragravity ship on +the planet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They didn't pirate her, did they?"</p> + +<p>The mate nodded. "Six months ago; Blackie Perales' gang. There was +just a tag end of a radio call, that ended in a shot. Time the Air +Patrol got to her estimated position it was too late. Nobody's ever +seen ship, officers, crew or passengers since."</p> + +<p>"Well, great Ghu; isn't the Government doing anything about it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. They offered a big reward for the pirates, dead or alive. And +there hasn't been a single case of piracy inside the city limits of +Storisende," he added solemnly.</p> + +<p>The Calder Range had grown to a sharp blue line on the horizon ahead, +and he could see the late afternoon sun on granite peaks. Below, the +fields were bare and brown, and the woods were autumn-tinted. They had +been green with new foliage when he had last seen them, and the +wine-melon fields had been in pink blossom. Must have gotten the crop +in early, on this side of the mountains. Maybe they were still +harvesting, over in the Gordon Valley. Or maybe this gang below was +going to the wine-pressing. Now that he thought of it, he'd seen a lot +of cask staves going aboard at Storisende.</p> + +<p>Yet there seemed to be less land under cultivation now than six years +ago. He could see squares of bracken and low brush that had been melon +fields recently, among the new forests that had grown up in the past +forty years. The few stands of original timber towered above the +second growth like hills; those trees had been there when the planet +had been colonized.</p> + +<p>That had been two hundred years ago, at the beginning of the Seventh +Century, Atomic Era. The name "Poictesme" told that—Surromanticist +Movement, when they were rediscovering James Branch Cabell. Old Genji +Gartner, the scholarly and half-piratical space-rover whose ship had +been the first to enter the Trisystem, had been devoted to the +romantic writers of the Pre-Atomic Era. He had named all the planets +of the Alpha System from the books of Cabell, and those of Beta from +Spenser's <i>Faerie Queene</i>, and those of Gamma from Rabelais. Of +course, the camp village at his first landing site on this one had +been called Storisende.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thirty years later, Genji Gartner had died there, after seeing +Storisende grow to a metropolis and Poictesme become a Member Republic +in the Terran Federation. The other planets were uninhabitable except +in airtight dome cities, but they were rich in minerals. Companies had +been formed to exploit them. No food could be produced on any of them +except by carniculture and hydroponic farming, and it had been cheaper +to produce it naturally on Poictesme. So Poictesme had concentrated on +agriculture and had prospered. At least, for about a century.</p> + +<p>Other colonial planets were developing their own industries; the +manufactured goods the Gartner Trisystem produced could no longer find +a profitable market. The mines and factories on Jurgen and Koshchei, +on Britomart and Calidore, on Panurge and the moons of Pantagruel +closed, and the factory workers went away. On Poictesme, the offices +emptied, the farms contracted, forests reclaimed fields, and the wild +game came back.</p> + +<p>Coming toward the ship out of the east, now, was a vast desert of +crumbling concrete—landing fields and parade grounds, empty barracks +and toppling sheds, airship docks, stripped gun emplacements and +missile-launching sites. These were more recent, and dated from +Poictesme's second hectic prosperity, when the Gartner Trisystem had +been the advance base for the Third Fleet-Army Force, during the +System States War.</p> + +<p>It had lasted twelve years. Millions of troops were stationed on or +routed through Poictesme. The mines and factories reopened for war +production. The Federation spent trillions on trillions of sols, piled +up mountains of supplies and equipment, left the face of the world +cluttered with installations. Then, without warning, the System States +Alliance collapsed, the rebellion ended, and the scourge of peace fell +on Poictesme.</p> + +<p>The Federation armies departed. They took the clothes they stood in, +their personal weapons, and a few souvenirs. Everything else was +abandoned. Even the most expensive equipment had been worth less than +the cost of removal.</p> + +<p>The people who had grown richest out of the War had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> followed, taking +their riches with them. For the next forty years, those who remained +had been living on leavings. On Terra, Conn had told his friends that +his father was a prospector, leaving them to interpret that as one who +searched, say, for uranium. Rodney Maxwell found quite a bit of +uranium, but he got it by taking apart the warheads of missiles.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Now he was looking down on the granite spines of the Calder Range; +ahead the misty Gordon Valley sloped and widened to the north. Twenty +minutes to Litchfield, now. He still didn't know what he was going to +tell the people who would be waiting for him. No; he knew that; he +just didn't know how. The ship swept on, ten miles a minute, tearing +through thin puffs of cloud. Ten minutes. The Big Bend was glistening +redly in the sunlit haze, but Litchfield was still hidden inside its +curve. Six. Four. The <i>Countess Dorothy</i> was losing speed and +altitude. Now he could see it, first a blur and then distinctly. The +Airlines Building, so thick as to look squat for all its height. The +yellow block of the distilleries under their plume of steam. High +Garden Terrace; the Mall.</p> + +<p>Moment by moment, the stigmata of decay became more evident. Terraces +empty or littered with rubbish; gardens untended and choked with wild +growth; blank-staring windows, walls splotched with lichens. At first, +he was horrified at what had happened to Litchfield in six years. Then +he realized that the change had been in himself. He was seeing it with +new eyes, as it really was.</p> + +<p>The ship came in five hundred feet above the Mall, and he could see +cracked pavements sprouting grass, statues askew on their pedestals, +waterless fountains. At first he thought one of them was playing, but +what he had taken for spray was dust blowing from the empty basin. +There was a thing about dusty fountains, some poem he'd read at the +University.</p> + +<p> +<span class='poem'><i>The fountains are dusty in the Graveyard of Dreams;</i></span> +<br/> +<span class='poem'><i>The hinges are rusty, they swing with tiny screams.</i><br /> +</span> +</p> + +<p>Was Poictesme a Graveyard of Dreams? No; Junkyard of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> Empire. The +Terran Federation had impoverished a hundred planets, devastated a +score, actually depopulated at least three, to keep the System States +Alliance from seceding. It hadn't been a victory. It had only been a +lesser defeat.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd, almost a mob, on the dock; nearly everybody in +topside Litchfield. He spotted old Colonel Zareff, with his white hair +and plum-brown skin, and Tom Brangwyn, the town marshal, red-faced and +bulking above everybody else. Kurt Fawzi, the mayor, well to the +front. Then he saw his father and mother, and his sister Flora, and +waved to them. They waved back, and then everybody was waving. The +gangway-port opened, and the Academy band struck up, enthusiastically +if inexpertly, as he descended to the dock.</p> + +<p>His father was wearing a black suit with a long coat, cut to the same +pattern as the one he had worn six years ago. Blackout curtain cloth. +It was fairly new, but the coat had begun to acquire a permanent +wrinkle across the right hip, over the pistol butt. His mother's dress +was new, and so was Flora's, made for the occasion. He couldn't be +sure just which of the Federation Armed Forces had provided the +material, but his father's shirt was Med Service sterilon.</p> + +<p>Ashamed to be noticing things like that, he clasped his father's hand, +kissed his mother, embraced his sister. There were a few, but very +few, gray threads in his father's mustache; a few more squint-wrinkles +around the eyes. His mother's hair was all gray, now, and she was +heavier. She seemed shorter, but that would be because he'd grown a +few inches in the last six years. For a moment, he was surprised that +Flora actually looked younger. Then he realized that to seventeen, +twenty-three is practically middle age, but to twenty-three, +twenty-nine is almost contemporary. He noticed the glint on her left +hand and caught it to look at the ring.</p> + +<p>"Hey! Zarathustra sunstone! Nice," he said. "Where is he, Sis?"</p> + +<p>He'd never met her fiancé; Wade Lucas hadn't come to Litchfield to +practice medicine until the year after he'd gone to Terra.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, emergency," Flora said. "Obstetrical case; that won't wait on +anything. In Tramptown, of course. But he'll be at the party.... Oops, +I shouldn't have said that; that's supposed to be a surprise."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry; I'll be surprised," he promised.</p> + +<p>Then Kurt Fawzi was pushing forward, holding out his hand. Thinner, +and grayer, but just as effusive as ever.</p> + +<p>"Welcome home, Conn. Judge, shake hands with him and tell him how glad +we all are to see him back.... Now, Franz, put away the recorder; save +the interview for the <i>Chronicle</i> till later. Ah, Professor Kellton; +one pupil Litchfield Academy can be proud of!"</p> + +<p>He shook hands with them: Judge Ledue, Franz Veltrin, old Professor +Dolf Kellton. They were all happy; how much, he wondered, because he +was Conn Maxwell, Rodney Maxwell's son, home from Terra, and how much +because of what they hoped he'd tell them. Kurt Fawzi, edging him +aside, was the first to speak of it.</p> + +<p>"Conn, what did you find out?" he whispered. "Do you know where it +is?"</p> + +<p>He stammered, then saw Tom Brangwyn and Colonel Klem Zareff +approaching, the older man tottering on a silver-headed cane and the +younger keeping pace with him. Neither of them had been born on +Poictesme. Tom Brangwyn had always been reticent about where he came +from, but Hathor was a good guess. There had been political trouble on +Hathor twenty years ago; the losers had had to get off-planet in a +hurry to dodge firing squads. Klem Zareff never was reticent about his +past. He came from Ashmodai, one of the System States planets, and he +had commanded a regiment, and finally a division that had been blasted +down to less than regimental strength, in the Alliance Army. He always +wore a little rosette of System States black and green on his coat.</p> + +<p>"Hello, boy," he croaked, extending a hand. "Good to see you again."</p> + +<p>"It sure is, Conn," the town marshal agreed, then lowered his voice. +"Find out anything definite?"</p> + +<p>"We didn't have much time, Conn," Kurt Fawzi said, "but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> we've +arranged a little celebration for you. We'll start it with a dinner at +Senta's."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't have done anything I'd have liked better, Mr. Fawzi. I'd +have to have a meal at Senta's before I'd really feel at home."</p> + +<p>"Well, it'll be a couple of hours. Suppose we all go up to my office, +in the meantime. Give the ladies a chance to fix up for the party, and +have a little drink and a talk together."</p> + +<p>"You want to do that, Conn?" his father asked. There was an odd +undernote of anxiety, or reluctance, in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. I'd like that."</p> + +<p>His father turned to speak to his mother and Flora. Kurt Fawzi was +speaking to his wife, interrupting himself to shout instructions to +some laborers who were bringing up a contragravity skid. Conn turned +to Colonel Zareff.</p> + +<p>"Good melon crop this year?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The old Rebel cursed. "Gehenna of a big crop; we're up to our necks in +melons. This time next year we'll be washing our feet in brandy."</p> + +<p>"Hold onto it and age it; you ought to see what they charge for a +drink of Poictesme brandy on Terra."</p> + +<p>"This isn't Terra, and we aren't selling it by the drink," Colonel +Zareff said. "We're selling it at Storisende Spaceport, for what the +freighter captains pay us. You've been away too long, Conn. You've +forgotten what it's like to live in a poor-house."</p> + +<p>The cargo was coming off, now. Cask staves, and more cask staves. +Zareff swore bitterly at the sight, and then they started toward the +wide doors of the shipping floor, inside the Airlines Building. +Outgoing cargo was beginning to come out; casks of brandy, of course, +and a lot of boxes and crates, painted light blue and bearing the +yellow trefoil of the Third Fleet-Army Force and the eight-pointed red +star of Ordnance. Cases of rifles; square boxes of ammunition; crated +auto-cannon. Conn turned to his father.</p> + +<p>"This our stuff?" he asked. "Where did you dig it?"</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell laughed. "You know the old Tenth Army Headquarters, +over back of Snagtooth, in the Calders? Everybody knows that was +cleaned out years ago. Well, always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> take a second look at these +things everybody knows. Ten to one they're not so. It always bothered +me that nobody found any underground attack-shelters. I took a second +look, and sure enough, I found them, right underneath, mined out of +the solid rock. Conn, you'd be surprised at what I found there."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going to sell that stuff?" he asked, pointing at a +passing skid. "There's enough combat equipment around now to outfit a +private army for every man, woman and child in Poictesme."</p> + +<p>"Storisende Spaceport. The freighter captains buy it, and sell it on +some of the planets that were colonized right before the War and +haven't gotten industrialized yet. I'm clearing about two hundred sols +a ton on it."</p> + +<p>The skid at which he had pointed was loaded with cases of M504 +submachine guns. Even used, one was worth fifty sols. Allowing for +packing weight, his father was selling those tommy guns for less than +a good café on Terra got for one drink of Poictesme brandy.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> +<p>He had been in Kurt Fawzi's office before, once or twice, with his +father; he remembered it as a dim, quiet place of genteel conviviality +and rambling conversation. None of the lights were bright, and the +walls were almost invisible in the shadows. As they entered, Tom +Brangwyn went to the long table and took off his belt and holster, +laying it down. One by one, the others unbuckled their weapons and +added them to the pile. Klem Zareff's cane went on the table with his +pistol; there was a sword inside it.</p> + +<p>That was something else he was seeing with new eyes. He hadn't started +carrying a gun when he had left for Terra, and he was wondering, now, +why any of them bothered to. Why, there wouldn't be a shooting a year +in Litchfield, if you didn't count the Tramptowners, and they stayed +south of the docks and off the top level.</p> + +<p>Or perhaps that was just it. Litchfield was peaceful because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +everybody was prepared to keep it that way. It certainly wasn't +because of anything the Planetary Government did to maintain order.</p> + +<p>Now Brangwyn was setting out glasses, filling a pitcher from a keg in +the corner of the room. The last time Conn had been here, they'd given +him a glass of wine, and he'd felt very grown-up because they didn't +water it for him.</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen," Kurt Fawzi was saying, "let's have a toast to our +returned friend and new associate. Conn, we're all anxious to hear +what you've found out, but even if you didn't learn anything, we're +still happy to have you back with us. Gentlemen; to our friend and +neighbor. Welcome home, Conn!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's wonderful to be back, Mr. Fawzi," he began.</p> + +<p>"Here, none of this mister foolishness; you're one of us, now, Conn. +And drink up, everybody. We have plenty of brandy, if we don't have +anything else."</p> + +<p>"You can say that again, Kurt." That was one of the distillery people; +he'd remember the name in a moment. "When this new crop gets pressed +and fermented...."</p> + +<p>"I don't know where in Gehenna I'm going to vat mine till it +ferments," Klem Zareff said.</p> + +<p>"Or why," another planter added. "Lorenzo, what are you going to be +paying for wine?"</p> + +<p>Lorenzo Menardes; that was the name. The distiller said he was +worrying about what he'd be able to get for brandy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please," Fawzi interrupted. "Not today; not when our boy's home +and is going to tell us how we can solve all our problems."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Conn." That was Morgan Gatworth, the lawyer. "You did find out +where Merlin is, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>That set them all off. He was still holding his drink; he downed it in +one gulp, barely tasting it, and handed the glass to Tom Brangwyn for +a refill, and caught a frown on his father's face. One did not gulp +drinks in Kurt Fawzi's office.</p> + +<p>Well, neither did one blast everybody's hopes with half a dozen words, +and that was what he was trying to force himself to do. He wanted to +blurt out the one quick sentence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> and get it over with, but the words +wouldn't come out of his throat. He lowered the second drink by half; +the brandy was beginning to warm him and dissolve the cold lump in his +stomach. Have to go easy, though. He wasn't used to this kind of +drinking, and he wanted to stay sober enough to talk sense until he'd +told them what he had to.</p> + +<p>"I hope," he said, "that you don't expect me to show you the cross on +the map, where the computer is buried."</p> + +<p>All the eyes around him began to look troubled. Most of them had been +expecting precisely that. His father was watching him anxiously.</p> + +<p>"But it's still here on Poictesme, isn't it?" one of the melon +planters asked. "They didn't take it away with them?"</p> + +<p>"Most of you gentlemen," he said, "contributed to sending me to school +on Terra, to study cybernetics and computer theory. It wouldn't do us +any good to find Merlin if none of us could operate it. Well, I've +done that. I can use any known type of computer, and train assistants. +After I graduated, I was offered a junior instructorship to computer +physics at the University."</p> + +<p>"You didn't mention that, son," his father said.</p> + +<p>"The letter would have come on the same ship I did. Besides, I didn't +think it was very important."</p> + +<p>"I think it is." There was a catch in old Dolf Kellton's voice. "One +of my boys from the Academy offered a place on the faculty of the +University of Montevideo, on Terra!" He finished his drink and held +out his glass for more, something he almost never did.</p> + +<p>"Conn means," Kurt Fawzi explained, "that it had nothing to do with +Merlin."</p> + +<p>All right; now tell them the truth.</p> + +<p>"I was also to find out anything I could about a secret giant computer +used during the War by the Third Fleet-Army Force, code-named Merlin. +I went over all the records available to the public; I used your +letter, Professor, and the head of our Modern History department +secured me access to non-public material, some of it still classified. +For one thing, I have locations and maps and plans of every Federation +installation built here between 842 and 854, the whole period<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> of the +War." He turned to his father. "There are incredible things still +undiscovered; most of the important installations were built in +duplicate, sometimes triplicate, as a precaution against space attack. +I know where all of them are."</p> + +<p>"Space attack!" Klem Zareff was indignant. "There never was a time we +could have attacked Poictesme. Even if we'd had the ships, we were +fighting a purely defensive war. Aggression was no part of our +policy—"</p> + +<p>He interrupted: "Excuse me, Colonel. The point I was trying to make is +that, with all I was able to learn, I could find nothing, not one +single word, about any giant strategic planning computer called +Merlin, or any Merlin Project."</p> + +<p>There! He'd gotten that out. Now go on and tell them about the old man +in the dome-house on Luna. The room was silent, except for the small +insectile hum of the electric clock. Then somebody set a glass on the +table, and it sounded like a hammer blow.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Conn?"</p> + +<p>Kurt Fawzi was incredulous. Judge Ledue's hand shook as though palsied +as he tried to relight his cigar. Dolf Kellton was looking at the +drink in his hand as though he had no idea what it was. The others +found their voices, one by one.</p> + +<p>"Of course, it was the most closely guarded secret ..."</p> + +<p>"But after forty years ..."</p> + +<p>"Hah, don't tell me about security!" Colonel Zareff barked. "You +should have seen the lengths our staff went to. I remember, once, on +Mephistopheles ..."</p> + +<p>"But there <i>was</i> a computer code-named Merlin," Judge Ledue was +insisting, to convince himself more than anybody else. "Its +memory-bank contained all human knowledge. It was capable of scanning +all its data instantaneously, and combining, and forming associations, +and reasoning with absolute accuracy, and extrapolating to produce new +facts, and predicting future events, and ..."</p> + +<p>And if you'd asked such a computer, "Is there a God?" it would have +simply answered, "Present."</p> + +<p>"We'd have won the War, except for Merlin," Zareff was declaring.</p> + +<p>"Conn, from what you've learned of computers generally,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> how big would +Merlin have to be?" old Professor Kellton asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, the astrophysics computer at the University occupied a volume +of a hundred thousand cubic feet. For all Merlin was supposed to do, +I'd say something of the order of three million to five million.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a cinch they didn't haul that away with them," Lester +Dawes, the banker, said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, lots of places on Poictesme where they could have hid a thing +like that," Tom Brangwyn said. "You know, a planet's a mighty big +place."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't have to be on Poictesme, even," Morgan Gatworth pointed +out. "It could be anywhere in the Trisystem."</p> + +<p>"You know where I'd have put it?" Lorenzo Menardes asked. "On one of +the moons of Pantagruel."</p> + +<p>"But that's in the Gamma System, three light years away," Kurt Fawzi +objected. "There isn't a hypership on this planet, and it would take +half a lifetime to get there on normal-space drive."</p> + +<p>Conn was lifting his glass to his lips. He set it down again and rose +to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Then," he said, "we will build a hypership. On Koshchei there are +shipyards and hyperdrive engines and everything we will need. We only +need one normal-space interplanetary ship to get out there, and we're +in business."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know we need one," Judge Ledue said. "That was only an +idea of Lorenzo's. I think Merlin's right here on Poictesme."</p> + +<p>"We don't know it is," Conn replied. "And we don't know we won't need +a ship. Merlin may be on Koshchei; that's where the components would +be fabricated, and the Armed Forces weren't hauling anything any +farther than they had to. Koshchei's only two and a half minutes away +by radio; that's practically in the next room. Look; here's how they +could have done it."</p> + +<p>He went on talking, about remote controls and radio transmission and +positronic brains and neutrino-circuits. They believed it all, even +the little they understood. They would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> believe anything he told them +about Merlin—except the truth.</p> + +<p>"But this will take money," Lester Dawes said. "And after that +infernal deluge of unsecured paper currency thirty years ago ..."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt," Judge Ledue began, "that the Planetary Government +at Storisende would give assistance. I have some slight influence with +President Vyckhoven ..."</p> + +<p>"Huh-<i>uh</i>!" That was one of Klem Zareff's fellow planters. "We don't +want Jake Vyckhoven or any of this First-Families-of-Storisende +oligarchy in this at all. That's the gang that bankrupted the +Government with doles and work relief, and everybody else with +worthless printing-press money after the War, and they've been +squatting in a circle deploring things ever since. Some of these days +Blackie Perales and his pirates'll sack Storisende, for all they'd be +able to do to stop him."</p> + +<p>"We get a ship out to Koshchei, and the next thing you know we'll be +the Planetary Government," Tom Brangwyn said.</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell finished the brandy in his glass and set it on the +table, then went to the pile of belts and holsters and began rummaging +for his own. Kurt Fawzi looked up in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Rod, you're not leaving are you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's only half an hour till time for dinner, and I think Conn +and I ought to have a little fresh air. Besides, you know, we haven't +seen each other for six years." He buckled on the heavy automatic and +settled the belt over his hips. "You didn't have a gun, did you, +Conn?" he asked. "Well, let's go."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<p>It wasn't until they were down to the main level and outside in the +little plaza to the east of the Airlines Building that his father +broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"That was quite a talk you gave them, Conn. They believed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> every word +of it. I even caught myself starting to believe it once or twice."</p> + +<p>Conn stopped short; his father halted beside him. "Why didn't you tell +them the truth, son?" Rodney Maxwell asked.</p> + +<p>The question, which he had been throwing at himself, angered him. "Why +didn't I just grab a couple of pistols and shoot the lot of them?" he +retorted. "It wouldn't have killed them any deader, and it wouldn't +have hurt as much."</p> + +<p>"There is no Merlin. Is that it?"</p> + +<p>He realized, suddenly, that his father had known, or suspected that +all along. He started to say something, then checked himself and began +again:</p> + +<p>"There never was one. I was going to tell them, but you saw them. I +couldn't."</p> + +<p>"You're sure of it?"</p> + +<p>"The whole thing's a myth. I'm quoting the one man in the Galaxy who +ought to know. The man who commanded the Third Force here during the +War."</p> + +<p>"Foxx Travis!" His father's voice was soft with wonder. "I saw him +once, when I was eight years old. I thought he'd died long ago. Why, +he must be over a hundred."</p> + +<p>"A hundred and twelve. He's living on Luna; low gravity's all that +keeps him alive."</p> + +<p>"And you talked to him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>There'd been a girl in his third-year biophysics class; he'd found out +that she was a great-granddaughter of Force General Travis. It had +taken him until his senior midterm vacation to wangle an invitation to +the dome-house on Luna. After that, it had been easy. As soon as Foxx +Travis had learned that one of his great-granddaughter's guests was +from Poictesme, he had insisted on talking to him.</p> + +<p>"What did he tell you?"</p> + +<p>The old man had been incredibly thin and frail. Under normal +gravitation, his life would have gone out like a blown match. Even at +one-sixth G, it had cost him effort to rise and greet the guest. There +had been a younger man, a mere stripling of seventy-odd; he had been +worried, and excused himself at once. Travis had laughed after he had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>gone out.</p> + + +<p>"Mike Shanlee; my aide-de-camp on Poictesme. Now he thinks he's my +keeper. He'll have a squad of doctors and a platoon of nurses in here +as soon as you're gone, so take your time. Now, tell me how things are +on Poictesme...."</p> + +<p>"Just about that," he told his father. "I finally mentioned Merlin, as +an old legend people still talked about. I was ashamed to admit +anybody really believed in it. He laughed, and said, 'Great Ghu, is +that thing still around? Well, I suppose so; it was all through the +Third Force during the War. Lord only knows how these rumors start +among troops. We never contradicted it; it was good for morale.'"</p> + +<p>They had started walking again, and were out on the Mall; the sky was +flaming red and orange from high cirrus clouds in the sunset light. +They stopped by a dry fountain, perhaps the one from which he had seen +the dust blowing. Rodney Maxwell sat down on the edge of the basin and +got out two cigars, handing one to Conn, who produced his lighter.</p> + +<p>"Conn, they wouldn't have believed you <i>and</i> Foxx Travis," he said. +"Merlin's a religion with those people. Merlin's a robot god, +something they can shove all their problems onto. As soon as they find +Merlin, everybody will be rich and happy, the Government bonds will be +redeemed at face value plus interest, the paper money'll be worth a +hundred Federation centisols to the sol, and the leaves and wastepaper +will be raked off the Mall, all by magic." He muttered an +unprintability and laughed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you were the village atheist, Father."</p> + +<p>"In a religious community, the village atheist keeps his doubts to +himself. I have to do business with these Merlinolators. It's all I +can do to keep Flora from antagonizing them at school."</p> + +<p>Flora was a teacher; now she was assistant principal of the grade +schools. Professor Kellton was also school superintendent. He could +see how that would be.</p> + +<p>"Flora's not a True Believer, then?"</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell shook his head. "That's largely Wade Lucas's influence, +I'd say. You know about him."</p> + +<p>Just from letters. Wade Lucas was from Baldur; he'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> gone off-planet +as soon as he'd gotten his M.D. Evidently the professional situation +there was the same as on Terra; plenty of opportunities, and fifty +competitors for each one. On Poictesme, there were few opportunities, +but nobody competed for anything, not even to find Merlin.</p> + +<p>"He'd never heard of Merlin till he came here, and when he did, he +just couldn't believe in it. I don't blame him. I've heard about it +all my life, and I can't."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"To begin with, I suppose, because it's just another of these things +everybody believes. Then, I've had to do some studying on the Third +Force occupation of Poictesme to know where to go and dig, and I never +found any official, or even reliably unofficial, mention of anything +of the sort. Forty years is a long time to keep a secret, you know. +And I can't see why they didn't come back for it after the pressure to +get the troops home was off, or why they didn't build a dozen Merlins. +This isn't the only planet that has problems they can't solve for +themselves."</p> + +<p>"What's Mother's attitude on Merlin?"</p> + +<p>"She's against it. She thinks it isn't right to make machines that are +smarter than people."</p> + +<p>"I'll agree. It's scientifically impossible."</p> + +<p>"That's what I've been trying to tell her. Conn, I noticed that after +Kurt Fawzi started talking about how long it would take to get to the +Gamma System, you jumped right into it and began talking up a ship. +Did you think that if you got them started on that it would take their +minds off Merlin?"</p> + +<p>"That gang up in Fawzi's office? Nifflheim, no! They'll go on hunting +Merlin till they die. But I was serious about the ship. An idea hit +me. You gave it to me; you and Klem Zareff."</p> + +<p>"Why, I didn't say a word ..."</p> + +<p>"Down on the shipping floor, before we went up. You were talking about +selling arms and ammunition at a profit of two hundred sols a ton, and +Klem was talking as though a bumper crop was worse than a Green Death +epidemic. If we had a hypership, look what we could do. How much do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +you think a settler on Hoth or Malebolge or Irminsul would pay for a +good rifle and a thousand rounds? How much would he pay for his +life?—that's what it would come to. And do you know what a fifteen-cc +liqueur glass of Poictesme brandy sells for on Terra? One sol; +Federation money. I'll admit it costs like Nifflheim to run a +hypership, but look at the difference between what these tramp +freighter captains pay at Storisende and what they get."</p> + +<p>"I've been looking at it for a long time. Maybe if we had a few ships +of our own, these planters would be breaking new ground instead of +cutting their plantings, and maybe we'd get some money on this planet +that was worth something. You have a good idea there, son. But maybe +there's an angle to it you haven't thought of."</p> + +<p>Conn puffed slowly at the cigar. Why couldn't they grow tobacco like +this on Terra? Soil chemicals, he supposed; that wasn't his subject.</p> + +<p>"You can't put this scheme over on its own merits. This gang wouldn't +lift a finger to build a hypership. They've completely lost hope in +everything but Merlin."</p> + +<p>"Well, can do. I'll even convince them that Merlin's a space-station, +in orbit off Koshchei. I think I could do that."</p> + +<p>"You know what it'll cost? If you go ahead with it, I'm in it with +you, make no mistake about that. But you and I will be the only two +people on Poictesme who can be trusted with the truth. We'll have to +lie to everybody else, with every word we speak. We'll have to lie to +Flora, and we'll have to lie to your mother. Your mother most of all. +She believes in absolutes. Lying is absolutely wrong, no matter whom +it helps; telling the truth is absolutely right, no matter how much +damage it does or how many hearts it breaks. You think this is going +to be worth a price like that?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" he demanded, and then pointed along the crumbling and +littered Mall. "Look at that. Pretend you never saw it before and are +looking at it for the first time. And then tell me whether it'll be +worth it or not."</p> + +<p>His father took a cigar from his mouth. For a moment, he sat staring +silently.</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu!" Rodney Maxwell turned. "I wonder how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> that sneaked up on +me; I honestly never realized.... Yes, Conn. This is a cause worth +lying for." He looked at his watch. "We ought to be starting for +Senta's, but let's take a few minutes and talk this over. How are you +going to get it started?"</p> + +<p>"Well, convince them that I can find Merlin and that they can't find +it without me. I think I've done that already. Then convince them that +we'll have to have a ship to get to Koshchei, and—"</p> + +<p>"Won't do. That'll take money, and money's something none of this gang +has."</p> + +<p>"You heard me talk about the stuff I found out on Terra? Father, you +have no idea what all there is. You remember the old Force Command +Headquarters, the one the Planetary Government took over? I know where +there's a duplicate of that, completely underground. It has everything +the other one had, and a lot more, because it'll be cram-full of +supplies to be used in case of a general blitz that would knock out +everything on the planet. And a chain of hospitals. And a spaceport, +over on Barathrum, that was built inside the crater of an extinct +volcano. There won't be any hyperships there of course, but there'll +be equipment and material. We might be able to build a ship there. And +supply depots, all over the planet; none of them has ever been opened +since the War. Don't worry about financing; we have that."</p> + +<p>His father, he could see, appreciated what he had brought home from +Terra. He was nodding, with quick head jerks, at each item.</p> + +<p>"That'll do it, all right. Now, listen; what we want to do is get a +company organized, a regular limited-liability company, with a +charter. We'll contribute the information you brought back from Terra, +and we'll get the rest of this gang to put all the money we can twist +out of them into it, so we'll be sure they won't say, 'Aw, Nifflheim +with it!' and walk out on us as soon as the going gets a little +tough." Rodney Maxwell got to his feet, hitching his gun-belt. "I'll +pass the word to Kurt to get a meeting set up for tomorrow afternoon."</p> + +<p>"What'll we call this company? Merlin Rediscovery, Ltd?"</p> + +<p>"No! We keep Merlin out of it. As far as the public is supposed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> to +know, this is just a war-material prospecting company. I'll impress on +them that Merlin is to be kept a secret. That way, we'll have to +engage in regular prospecting and salvage work as a front. I'll see to +it that the front is also the main objective." He nodded down the +Mall, toward the sunset, which was blazing even higher and redder. +"Well, let's go. You don't want to be late for your own welcome-home +party."</p> + +<p>They walked slowly, still talking, until they came to the end of the +Mall. The escalators to the level below weren't working. Now that he +thought of it, they hadn't been when he had gone away, six years ago, +but he could remember riding up and down on them as a small child. For +a moment they stood in the sunset light, looking down on the lower +terrace as they finished their cigars.</p> + +<p>Senta's was mostly outdoors, the tables under the open sky. The people +gathered below were looking at the sunset, too; Litchfielders loved to +watch sunsets, maybe because a sunset was one of the few things +economic conditions couldn't affect. There was Kurt Fawzi, the center +of a group to whom he was declaiming earnestly; there was his mother, +and Flora, and Flora's fiancé, who was the uncomfortable lone man in +an excited feminine flock. And there was Senta herself, short and +dumpy, in one of her preposterous red and purple dresses, bubbling +happily one moment and screaming invective at some laggard waiter the +next.</p> + +<p>They threw away their cigars and started down the long, motionless +escalator. Conn Maxwell, Hero of the Hour, marching to Destiny. He +seemed to hear trumpets sounding before him.</p> + +<p>And an occasional muted Bronx cheer.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<p>The alarm chimed softly beside his bed; he reached out and silenced +it, and lay looking at the early sunlight in the windows, and found +that he was wishing himself back in his dorm room at the University. +No, back in this room, ten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> years ago, before any of this had started. +For a while, he imagined himself thirteen years old and knowing +everything he knew now, and he began mapping a campaign to establish +himself as Litchfield's Juvenile Delinquent Number One, to the end +that Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton and the rest of them would never +dream of sending him to school on Terra to find out where Merlin was.</p> + +<p>But he couldn't even go back to yesterday afternoon in Kurt Fawzi's +office and tell them the truth. All he could do was go ahead. It had +seemed so easy, when he and his father had been talking on the Mall; +just get a ship built, and get out to Koshchei, and open some of the +shipyards and engine works there, and build a hypership. Sure; +easy—once he got started.</p> + +<p>He climbed out of bed, knuckled the sleep-sand out of his eyes, threw +his robe around him, and started across the room to the bath cubicle.</p> + +<p>They had decided to have breakfast together his first morning home. +The party had broken up late, and then there had been the excitement +of opening the presents he had brought back from Terra. Nobody had had +a chance to talk about Merlin, or about what he was going to do, now +that he was home. That, and his career of mendacity, would start at +breakfast. He wanted to let his father get to the table first, to run +interference for him; he took his time with his toilet and dressed +carefully and slowly. Finally, he zipped up the short waist-length +jacket and went out.</p> + +<p>His father and mother and Flora were at the table, and the +serving-robot was floating around a few inches off the floor, steam +trailing from its coffee urn and its tray lid up to offer food. He +greeted everybody and sat down at his place, and the robot came around +to him. His mother had selected all the things he'd been most fond of +six years ago: shovel-snout bacon, hotcakes, starberry jam, things he +hadn't tasted since he had gone away. He filled his plate and poured a +cup of coffee.</p> + +<p>"You don't want to bother coming out to the dig with me this morning, +do you?" his father was saying. "I'll be back here for lunch, and +we'll go to the meeting in the afternoon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Meeting?" Flora asked. "What meeting?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we didn't have time to tell you," Rodney Maxwell said. "You know, +Conn brought back a lot of information on locations of supply depots +and things like that. An amazing list of things that haven't been +discovered yet. It's going to be too much for us to handle alone; +we're organizing a company to do it. We'll need a lot of labor, for +one thing; jobs for some of these Tramptowners."</p> + +<p>"That's going to be something awfully big," his mother said dubiously. +"You never did anything like that before."</p> + +<p>"I never had the kind of a partner I have now. It's Maxwell & Son, +from now on."</p> + +<p>"Who's going to be in this company?" Flora wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Oh, everybody around town; Kurt and the Judge and Klem, and Lester +Dawes. All that crowd."</p> + +<p>"The Fawzis' Office Gang," Flora said disparagingly. "I suppose +they'll want Conn to take them right to where Merlin is, the first +thing."</p> + +<p>"Well, not the first thing," Conn said. "Merlin was one thing I +couldn't find out anything about on Terra."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you couldn't!"</p> + +<p>"The people at Armed Forces Records would let me look at everything +else, and make microcopies and all, but not one word about computers. +Forty years, and they still have the security lid welded shut on +that."</p> + +<p>Flora looked at him in shocked surprise. "You don't mean to tell me +you believe in that thing?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. How do you think they fought a war around a perimeter of close +to a thousand light-years? They couldn't do all that out of their +heads. They'd have to have computers, and the one they'd use to +correlate everything and work out grand-strategy plans would have to +be a dilly. Why, I'd give anything just to look at the operating +panels for that thing."</p> + +<p>"But that's just a silly story; there never was anything like Merlin. +No wonder you couldn't find out about it. You were looking for +something that doesn't exist, just like all these old cranks that sit +around drinking brandy and mooning about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> what Merlin's going to do +for them, and never doing anything for themselves."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're going to do something, now, Flora," his father told her. +"When we get this company organized—"</p> + +<p>"You'll dig up a lot of stuff you won't be able to sell, like that +stuff you've been bringing in from Tenth Army, and then you'll go +looping off chasing Merlin, like the rest of them. Well, maybe that'll +be a little better than just sitting in Kurt Fawzi's office talking +about it, but not much."</p> + +<p>It kept on like that. Conn and his father tried several times to +change the subject; each time Flora ignored the effort and returned to +her diatribe. Finally, she put her plate and cup on the robot's tray +and got to her feet.</p> + +<p>"I have to go," she said. "Maybe I can do something to keep some of +these children from growing up to be Merlin-worshipers like their +parents."</p> + +<p>She flung out of the room angrily. Mrs. Maxwell looked after her in +distress.</p> + +<p>"And I thought it was going to be so nice, having breakfast together +again," she lamented.</p> + +<p>Somehow the breakfast wasn't quite as good as he'd thought it was at +first. He wondered how many more breakfasts like that he was going to +have to sit through. He and his father finished quickly and got up, +while his mother started the robot to clearing the table.</p> + +<p>"Conn," she said, after his father had gone out, "you shouldn't have +gotten Flora started like that."</p> + +<p>"I didn't get Flora started; she's equipped with a self-starter. If +she doesn't believe in Merlin, that's her business. A lot of these +people do, and I'm going to help them hunt for it. That's why they all +chipped in to send me to school on Terra; remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know." Her voice was heavy with distress. "Conn, do you really +believe there is a ... that thing?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course." He was mildly surprised at how sincerely and +straightforwardly he said it. "I don't know where it is, but it's +somewhere on Poictesme, or in the Alpha System."</p> + +<p>"Well, do you think it would be a good thing to find it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>That surprised him. Everybody knew it would be, and his mother didn't +share his father's attitude about things everybody knew. She hadn't +any business questioning a fundamental postulate like that.</p> + +<p>"It frightens me," she continued. "I don't even like to think about +it. A soulless intelligence; it seems evil to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course it's soulless. It's a machine, isn't it? An aircar's +soulless, but you're not afraid to ride in one."</p> + +<p>"But this is different. A machine that can think. Conn, people weren't +meant to make machines like that, wiser than they are."</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute, Mother. You're talking to a computerman now." +Professional authority was something his mother oughtn't to question. +"A computer like Merlin isn't intelligent, or wise, or anything of the +sort. It doesn't think; the people who make computers and use them do +the thinking. A computer's a tool, like a screwdriver; it has to have +a man to use it."</p> + +<p>"Well, but...."</p> + +<p>"And please, don't talk about what people are <i>meant</i> to do. People +aren't <i>meant</i> to do things; they <i>mean</i> to do things, and nine times +out of ten, they end by doing them. It may take a hundred thousand +years from a Stone Age savage in a cave to the captain of a hyperspace +ship, but sooner or later they get there."</p> + +<p>His mother was silent. The soulless machine that had been clearing the +table floated out of the room, the dishwasher in its rectangular belly +gurgling. Maybe what he had told her was logical, but women aren't +impressed by logic. She knew better—for the good old feminine reason, +<i>Because</i>.</p> + +<p>"Wade Lucas wanted me to drop in on him for a checkup," he mentioned. +"That's rubbish; I had one for my landing pratique on the ship. He +just wants to size up his future brother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought to go see him."</p> + +<p>"How did Flora come to meet him, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know, he came from Baldur. He was in Storisende, looking +for an opening to start a practice, and he heard about some medical +equipment your father had found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> somewhere and came out to see if he +could buy it. Your father and Judge Ledue and Mr. Fawzi talked him +into opening his office here. Then he and Flora got acquainted...." +She asked, anxiously: "What did you think of him, Conn?"</p> + +<p>"Seems like a regular guy. I think I'll like him." A husband like Wade +Lucas might be a good thing for Flora. "I'll drop in on him, sometime +this morning."</p> + +<p>His mother went toward the rear of the house—more soulless machines, +like the housecleaning-robot, and the laundry-robot, to look after. He +went into his father's office and found the cigar humidor, just where +it had been when he'd stolen cigars out of it six years ago and +thought his father never suspected what he was doing.</p> + +<p>Now, why didn't they export this tobacco? It was better than anything +they grew on Terra; well, at least it was different, just as Poictesme +brandy was different from Terran bourbon or Baldur honey-rum. That was +the sort of thing that could be sold in interstellar trade anytime and +anywhere; the luxury goods that were unique. Staple foodstuffs, +utility textiles, metal products, could be produced anywhere, and +sooner or later they were. That was the reason for the original, +pre-War depression: the customers were all producing for themselves. +He'd talk that over with his father. He wished he'd had time to take +some economics at the University.</p> + +<p>He found the file his father kept up-to-date on salvage sites found +and registered with the Claims Office in Storisende. Some of the +locations he had brought back data for had been discovered, but, to +his relief, not the underground duplicate Force Command Headquarters, +and not the spaceport on the island continent of Barathrum, to the +east. That was all right.</p> + +<p>He went to the house-defense arms closet and found a 10-mm Navy +pistol, and a belt and spare clips. Making sure that the pistol and +magazines were loaded, he buckled it on. He debated getting a vehicle +out of the hangar on the landing stage, decided against it, and +started downtown on foot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>One of the first people he met was Len Yeniguchi, the tailor. He would +be at the meeting that afternoon. He managed, while talking, to +comment on the cut of Conn's suit, and finger the material.</p> + +<p>"Ah, nice," he complimented. "Made on Terra? We don't see cloth like +that here very often."</p> + +<p>He meant it wasn't Armed Forces salvage.</p> + +<p>"Father ought to be around to see you with a bolt of material, to have +a suit made," he said. "For Ghu's sake, either talk him into having a +short jacket like this, or get him to buy himself a shoulder holster. +He's ruined every coat he ever owned, carrying a gun on his hip."</p> + +<p>A little farther on, he came to a combat car grounded in the middle of +the street. It was green, with black trimmings, and lettered in black, +<span class="smcap">GORDON VALLEY HOME GUARD</span>. Tom Brangwyn was standing beside +it, talking to a young man in a green uniform.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Conn." The town marshal looked at his hip and grinned. "See +you got all your clothes on this morning. You were just plain +indecent, yesterday.... You know Fred Karski, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Yes, now that Tom mentioned it, he did. He and Fred had gone to school +together at the Litchfield Academy. But the six years since they'd +seen each other last had made a lot of difference in both of them. He +was beginning to think that the only strangers in Litchfield were his +own contemporaries. They shook hands, and Conn looked at the combat +car and Fred Karski's uniform.</p> + +<p>"What's going on?" he asked. "The System States Alliance to business +again?"</p> + +<p>Karski laughed. "Oh, that's the Colonel's idea. Green and black were +his colors in the War, and he's in command of the regiment."</p> + +<p>"Regiment? You need a whole regiment?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's two companies, each about the size of a regular army +platoon, but we have to call it a regiment so he can keep his old +Rebel Army rank."</p> + +<p>"We could use a regiment, Conn," Tom Brangwyn said seriously. "You +have no idea how bad things have gotten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Over on the east coast, the +outlaws are looting whole towns. About four months ago, they sacked +Waterville; burned the whole town and killed close to a hundred +people. That was Blackie Perales' gang."</p> + +<p>"Who is this Blackie Perales? I heard the name mentioned in connection +with the <i>Harriet Barne</i>."</p> + +<p>"Blackie Perales is anybody the Planetary Government can't catch, +which means practically any outlaw," Fred Karski said.</p> + +<p>"No, Fred; there is a Blackie Perales," Tom Brangwyn said. "He used to +be a planter, down in the south. The banks foreclosed on him when he +couldn't pay his notes, and he turned outlaw. That's the way it's +going, all around. Every time a planter loses his plantation or a +farmer loses his farm, or a mechanic loses his job, he turns outlaw. +Take Tramptown, here. We used to plant nothing but melons. Then, when +the sale for wine and brandy dropped, the melon-planters began cutting +their melon crops and raising produce, instead of buying it from up +north, and turning land into pasture for cattle. The people we used to +buy foodstuffs from couldn't sell all they raised, and that threw a +lot of farmhands out of work. So they got the idea there was work +here, and they came flocking in, and when they couldn't get jobs, they +just stayed in Tramptown, stealing anything they could. We don't even +try to police Tramptown any more; we just see to it they don't come up +here."</p> + +<p>"Well, where do these outlaws and pirates who are looting whole towns +come from?"</p> + +<p>"Down in the Badlands, mostly. None of them have been bothering us, +since we organized the Home Guard. They tried to, a couple of times, +at first. There may have been a few survivors; they spread it around +that Gordon Valley wasn't any outlaws' health resort."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you join us, Conn?" Fred Karski asked. "All our old gang +belong."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, but I'm afraid I'm going to be kind of busy."</p> + +<p>Brangwyn nodded. "Yes. You will be, at that," he agreed.</p> + +<p>"So I hear," Fred Karski said. "Do you really know where it is, +Conn?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, no." He went into the routine about Merlin being still +classified triple-top secret. "But we'll find it. It may take time, +but we will."</p> + +<p>They talked for a while. He asked more questions about the Home Guard. +His father, it seemed, had donated all the equipment. They had a +hundred and seventy men on the active list, but they had a reserve of +over eight hundred, and combat vehicles and weapons on all the +plantations and in all the towns along the river. The reserve had only +been turned out twice; both times, outlaw attacks had been stopped +dead—literally. The Home Guard, it appeared, was not given to making +arrests or taking prisoners. Finally, he parted from them, strolling +on along the row of stores and business places, many vacant, under the +south edge of the Mall, until he saw a fluorolite sign, <span class="smcap">WADE +LUCAS, M. D.</span> He entered.</p> + +<p>Lucas wasn't busy. They went into his consultation office, and Conn +took off his gun-belt and hung it up; Lucas offered cigarettes, and +they lighted and sat down.</p> + +<p>"I see you've started carrying one," he said, nodding to the pistol +Conn had laid aside.</p> + +<p>"Civic obligation. I'm going to be too busy for Home Guard duty, but +if I can protect myself, it'll save somebody else the job of +protecting me."</p> + +<p>"Maybe if there weren't so many guns around, there wouldn't be so much +trouble."</p> + +<p>He felt his good opinion of Wade Lucas start to slip. The Liberals on +Terra had been full of that kind of talk, which was why only four out +of ten of last year's graduating class at Armed Forces Academy had +been able to get active commissions. The last war had been a disaster, +so don't prepare for another one; when it comes, let it be a worse +disaster.</p> + +<p>"Guns don't make trouble; people make trouble. If the troublemakers +are armed, you have to be armed too. When did you last see an Air +Patrol boat around here, or even a Constabulary trooper? All we have +here is the Home Guard and Tom Brangwyn and three deputies, and his +pay and theirs is always six months in arrears."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lucas nodded. "A bankrupt government, an unemployment rate that rises +every year, currency that buys less every month. And do-it-yourself +justice." The doctor blew a smoke ring and watched it float toward the +ventilator-intake. "You said you're going to be busy. This company +your father's talking about organizing?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. You're going to be at the meeting at the Academy this +afternoon, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Just what are you going to do, after you get it organized?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I brought back information on a great deal of undiscovered +equipment and stores that the Third Force left behind...." He talked +on for some time, keeping to safe generalities. "It's too big for my +father and me to handle alone, even if we didn't feel morally +obligated to take in the people who contributed toward sending me to +school on Terra. You ought to be interested in it. I know of six fully +supplied hospitals, intended to take care of the casualties in case of +a System States space-attack. You can imagine, better than I can, what +would be in them."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Medical supplies of all sorts are getting hard to find. But look +here; you're not going to let these people waste time looking for this +alleged computer, this thing they call Merlin, are you?"</p> + +<p>"We're looking for any valuable war material. I don't know the +location of Merlin, but—"</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you don't!" Lucas said vehemently. That was the same thing +Flora had said.</p> + +<p>"—but Merlin is undoubtedly the most valuable item of abandoned TF +equipment on this planet. In the long run, I'd say, more valuable than +everything else together. We certainly aren't going to ignore it."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, Conn! You aren't like these people here; you were +educated at the University of Montevideo."</p> + +<p>"So I was. I studied computer theory and practice. I have some doubts +about Merlin being able to do some of the things these laymen like +Kellton and Fawzi and Judge Ledue think it could. Those sorts of +misconceptions and exaggerations have to be allowed for. But I have no +doubt whatever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> that the master computer with which they did their +strategic planning is probably the greatest mechanism of its sort ever +built, and I have no doubt whatever that it still exists somewhere in +the Alpha System."</p> + +<p>He almost convinced himself of it. He did not, however, convince Wade +Lucas, who was now regarding him with narrow-eyed suspicion.</p> + +<p>"You mean you categorically state that that computer actually exists?"</p> + +<p>"That, I think, was the general idea. Yes. I certainly do believe that +Merlin exists."</p> + +<p>Maybe he was telling the truth. Merlin existed in the beliefs and +hopes of people like Dolf Kellton and Klem Zareff and Judge Ledue and +Kurt Fawzi. Merlin was a god to them. Well, take Ghu, the Thoran +Grandfather-God. Ghu was as preposterous, theologically, as Merlin was +technologically; Ghu, except to Thorans, was a Federation-wide joke. +But he'd known a couple of Thorans at the University, funny little +fellows, with faces like terriers, their bodies covered with matted +black hair. They believed in Ghu the way he believed in the Second Law +of Thermodynamics. Ghu was with them every moment of their lives. Take +away their belief in Ghu, and they would have been lost and wretched.</p> + +<p>As lost and wretched as Kurt Fawzi or Judge Ledue, if they lost their +belief in Merlin. He started to say something like that, and then +thought better of it.</p> + +<p>Yes, Virginia, there <i>is</i> a Santa Claus.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<p>The meeting was at the Academy; when Conn and his father arrived, they +found the central hall under the topside landing stage crowded. Kurt +Fawzi and Professor Kellton had constituted themselves a reception +committee. Franz Veltrin was in evidence with his audiovisual +recorder, and Colonel Zareff was leaning on his silver-headed sword +cane. Tom Brangwyn, in an unaccustomed best-suit. Wade Lucas, among a +group of merchants, arguing heatedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> Lorenzo Menardes, the +distiller, and Lester Dawes, the banker, and Morgan Gatworth, the +lawyer, talking to Judge Ledue. About four times as many as had been +in Fawzi's office the afternoon before.</p> + +<p>Finally, everybody was shepherded into a faculty conference room; +there was a long table, and a shorter one T-wise at one end. Fawzi and +Kellton conducted them to this. Both of them were trying to preside, +Kellton because it was his Academy, and Fawzi ex officio as mayor and +professional leading citizen, and because he had come to regard Merlin +as his own private project. After everybody else was seated, the two +rival chairmen-presumptive remained on their feet. Fawzi was saying, +"Let's come to order; we must conduct this meeting regularly," and +Kellton was saying, "Gentlemen, please; let me have your attention."</p> + +<p>If either of them took the chair, the other would resent it. Conn got +to his feet again.</p> + +<p>"Somebody will have to preside," he said, loudly enough to cut through +the babble at the long table. "Would you take the chair, Judge Ledue?"</p> + +<p>That stopped it. Neither of them wanted to contest the honor with the +president-judge of the Gordon Valley court.</p> + +<p>"Excellent suggestion, Conn. Judge, will you preside?" Professor +Kellton, who had seen himself losing out to Fawzi, asked. Fawzi threw +one quick look around, estimated the situation, and got with it. "Of +course, Judge. You're the logical chairman. Here, will you sit here?"</p> + +<p>Judge Ledue took the chair, looked around for something to use as a +gavel, and rapped sharply with a paperweight.</p> + +<p>"Young Mr. Conn Maxwell, who has just returned from Terra, needs no +introduction to any of you," he began. Then, having established that, +he took the next ten minutes to introduce Conn. When people began +fidgeting, he wound up with: "Now, only about a dozen of us were at +the informal meeting in Mr. Fawzi's office, yesterday. Conn, would you +please repeat what you told us? Elaborate as you see fit."</p> + +<p>Conn rose. He talked briefly about his studies on Terra to qualify +himself as an expert. Then he began describing the wealth of abandoned +and still undiscovered Federation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> war material and the many +installations of which he had learned, careful to avoid giving clues +to exact locations. The spaceport; the underground duplicate Force +Command Headquarters; the vast underground arsenals and shops and +supply depots. Everybody was awed, even his father; he hadn't had time +to tell him more than a fraction of it.</p> + +<p>Finally, somebody from the long table interrupted:</p> + +<p>"Well, Conn; how about Merlin? That's what we're interested in."</p> + +<p>Wade Lucas snorted indignantly.</p> + +<p>"He's telling you about real things, things worth millions of sols, +and you want him to talk about that idiotic fantasy!"</p> + +<p>There was an angry outcry. Nobody actually shouted "<i>To the stake with +the blasphemer!</i>" but that was the general idea. Judge Ledue was +rapping loudly for order.</p> + +<p>"I don't know the exact location of Merlin." Conn strove to make +himself heard. "The whole subject's classified top secret. But I am +certain that Merlin exists, if not on Poictesme then somewhere in the +Alpha System, and I am equally certain that we can find it."</p> + +<p>Cheers. He waited for the hubbub to subside. Lucas was trying to yell +above it.</p> + +<p>"You admit you couldn't learn anything about this so-called Merlin, +but you're still certain it exists?"</p> + +<p>"Why are you certain it doesn't?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the whole thing's absurdly fantastic!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe it is, to a layman like you. I studied computers, and it isn't +to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, take all these elaborate preparations against space attack you +were telling us about. I think Colonel Zareff, here, who served in the +Alliance Army, will bear me out that such an attack was plainly +impossible."</p> + +<p>Zareff started to agree, then realized that he was aiding and +comforting the enemy. "Intelligence lag," he said. "What do you +expect, with General Headquarters thirty parsecs from the fighting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. A computer can only process the data that's been taped into it," +Conn said. That was a point he wanted to ram home, as forcibly and as +often as possible. "I suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> Merlin classified an Alliance attack on +Poictesme as a low-order probability, but war is the province of +chance; Clausewitz said that a thousand years ago. Foxx Travis wasn't +the sort of commander to let himself get caught, even by a very +low-order probability."</p> + +<p>"Well how do you explain the absence, after forty years, of any +mention, in any history of the War, of Merlin? How do you get around +that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't have to. How do you get around it?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Huh?</i>" Lucas was startled.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Stories about Merlin were all over Poictesme, all through the +Third Force, even to the enemy. Say the stories were unfounded; say +Merlin never existed. Yet the belief in Merlin was an important +historical fact, and no history of the War gives it so much as a +footnote." He paused for effect, then continued: "That can mean only +one thing. Systematic suppression, backed by the whole force of the +Terran Federation. A gigantic conspiracy of silence!"</p> + +<p>Brother! If they swallow that, I have it made; they'll swallow +anything!</p> + +<p>They did, all but Lucas. He banged his fist on the table.</p> + +<p>"Now I've heard everything!" he shouted in disgust.</p> + +<p>"Not quite everything, Doctor," Morgan Gatworth said. "You will hear, +one of these days, that we have found Merlin."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that'll be the day!" Lucas sprang to his feet, his chair +toppling behind him. He shoved it aside with his foot. "I'm not going +to argue with you. Conn Maxwell gave you a thousand-year-old +quotation; I'll give you another, from Thomas Paine: 'To argue with +those who have renounced the use and authority of reason is as futile +as to administer medicine to the dead.' I'll add this. Conn Maxwell +knows better than this balderdash he's been spouting to you. I don't +know what his racket is, and I'm not staying to find out. You will, +though—to your regret."</p> + +<p>He turned and strode from the room. There was a moment's silence, +after the door slammed behind him. Too bad, Conn thought. He would +have made a good friend. Now he was going to make a very nasty enemy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, let's get to business," his father said. "We don't have to +argue about the existence of Merlin; we know that. Let's discuss the +question of finding it."</p> + +<p>"I still think it's somewhere off-planet," Lorenzo Menardes said. "The +moons of Pantagruel...."</p> + +<p>Evidently he'd read something, or seen an old film, about the moons of +Pantagruel.</p> + +<p>"No, that's too far; they'd keep it where they could use it."</p> + +<p>"The old GHQ," Lester Dawes suggested. "Suppose it's down under that, +like the place Rodney found under Tenth Army."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," Gathworth said. "The Planetary Government took that +over."</p> + +<p>"Well, wherever it is, finding it is going to be expensive," Rodney +Maxwell said. "Now, to finance the search, I propose we use this +information my son brought back from Terra. Doctor Lucas was right +about one thing; that's worth millions of sols. Well, I propose, also, +that we set up a company and get it chartered; a prospecting company, +to operate under the Abandoned Property Act of 867. My son and I will +contribute this information as our share in the capitalization of the +company. The work of opening these Federation installations can go on +concurrently with the search for Merlin, and the profits can finance +it."</p> + +<p>Silence for a moment, then a bedlam of cheering.</p> + +<p>"Well, let's get organized," Gatworth said. "What will we call this +company?"</p> + +<p>A number of voices shouted suggestions. Rodney Maxwell managed to get +recognition and partial silence.</p> + +<p>"It is of the first importance," he said, "that we keep our real +objective—Merlin—as close a secret as possible. The Planetary +Government would like to get hold of it—and I leave you to ask +yourselves how far Jake Vyckhoven and his cronies are to be trusted +with anything like that—and I have no doubt the Federation might try +to take it away from us."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't do it, Rodney," Judge Ledue objected. "Everything the +Federation abandoned in the Trisystem is public domain now. We have a +Federation Supreme Court ruling—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's legality to the Federation?" Klem Zareff demanded. "They +fought a criminally illegal war of aggression against my people."</p> + +<p>Down the table, somebody started singing "Rally Round the Banner, the +Banner Black and Green."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think it's a good idea to keep quiet about it, myself," Kurt +Fawzi said.</p> + +<p>"All right," Rodney Maxwell said. "Then we don't want this company to +sound like anything but another salvage company. I suggest we call it +Litchfield Exploration & Salvage."</p> + +<p>"Good name, Rodney," Dawes approved. "That a motion? I second it."</p> + +<p>Unanimously carried. They had a name, now, anyhow. Everybody began +suggesting other topics for consideration—capitalization, application +for charter, election of officers, stock issues. Conn paid less and +less attention. Industrial finance and organization wasn't his +subject, either. His father was plunging happily into it as though he +had been promoting companies all his life. Conn sat and doodled with +his six-color pen, mostly spherical hyperspace ships.</p> + +<p>"We can't get all this cleared up now," Lester Dawes was protesting. +"Your Honor, I mean, Mr. Chairman; I suggest that committees be +appointed...."</p> + +<p>More hassling; everybody wanted to be on all the committees. Finally, +they appointed enough committees to include everybody.</p> + +<p>"Well, that seems to be cleared up," Judge Ledue said, "I suggest a +meeting day after tomorrow evening; the committees should have +everything set up, and we should be able to organize ourselves and +elect permanent officers. Is there anything else to discuss, or do I +hear a motion to adjourn?"</p> + +<p>Somebody thought they ought to have some idea of what the first +operation would be.</p> + +<p>"You heard me mention a spaceport," Conn said. "I can tell you, now, +that it's over on Barathrum, inside the crater of an extinct volcano. +I think we ought to have a look at that, first of all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know you seemed to think yesterday that Merlin is off-planet," +Fawzi said, "I'm inclined to disagree, Conn. I think it's right here +on Poictesme."</p> + +<p>"We ought to nail that spaceport down first," Conn argued.</p> + +<p>"Conn, you mentioned an underground duplicate of Travis's general +headquarters," Zareff said. "They thought we'd possibly send a fleet +here to blitz Poictesme, or they wouldn't have built that. And this +underground headquarters would be the safest place on the planet; +they'd make sure of that. Staff brass don't like to get caught out in +the rain, not when it's raining hellburners and planetbusters. Merlin +would be too big to take there along with them, so they'd put it there +in the first place."</p> + +<p>That made sense. If he'd been Foxx Travis, and if there had been a +Merlin, that was exactly where he'd have put it himself. But there was +no Merlin, and he wanted a ship. He argued mulishly for a little, then +saw that it was hopeless and gave in.</p> + +<p>"I want to find Merlin as much as any of you," he said. "More. Merlin +was the only thing I was trained for. We'll look there first."</p> + +<p>Somebody asked where, approximately, this underground Force Command +headquarters was.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's in the Badlands, over between the Blaubergs and the east +coast."</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu! We'll need an army to go in there!" Tom Brangwyn said. +"That's where all these outlaws have been coming from, Blackie Perales +and all."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll get an army together," Klem Zareff said happily. "Might +make a little of that reward money that's been offered."</p> + +<p>"We'll need more than that. Well need excavation equipment, and labor. +Lots of labor," Conn said. "It's a couple of hundred feet below the +surface; from the plans, I'd say they just dug a big pit, built the +headquarters in it, and filled it in. There are two entrances, a +vertical shaft and a horizontal tunnel."</p> + +<p>"When they pulled out, they probably filled the shaft and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> vitrified +the rock at the outer ends," his father added. "That was what they did +at Tenth Army."</p> + +<p>Another idea hit him. "Mr. Mayor, do you think you could set up some +kind of a public-works program here in Litchfield? We can't start this +till after the wine-pressing's over, and we'll need a lot of labor, as +I pointed out. Now, it's important that we keep all our projects a +secret until we can get our claims filed. If we start this municipal +fix-up-and-clean-up program, we can give work to a lot of these +drifters who haven't been able to get jobs on the plantations, get +them organized into gangs, and keep them together till we're ready for +the Force Command job."</p> + +<p>Lorenzo Menardes supported the idea. "And while they were boondoggling +around in Litchfield, we could pick out the best workers, get rid of +the incompetents, and train a few supervisors. That's going to be one +of our worst headaches; getting capable supervisors."</p> + +<p>"You telling me?" Rodney Maxwell asked. "That was what I was wondering +about: where we'd get gang-bosses. And another thing; this municipal +housecleaning would mask our real preparations."</p> + +<p>"Well, we need something like that," Fawzi said. "We've needed it for +a long time. I guess it took Conn, coming home from Terra, to see how +badly we've let the town get run down. Franz, suppose you and Tom +Brangwyn and Lorenzo form a committee on that. Look around, see what +needs fixing up worst, and set up a project. Who's city engineer now?"</p> + +<p>"Abe O'Leary; he died six years ago," Dawes said. "You never appointed +his successor."</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess I never got around to that," the mayor of Litchfield +admitted.</p> + +<p>When the meeting finally adjourned, they went up and got in the car; +his father lifted it straight up to thirty thousand feet and started +circling. An aircar was one place where they could talk safely.</p> + +<p>"Conn, I was kind of worried, down there. You were being a little too +positive. You know, you're only twenty-three. As long as you agree +with those people, you're a brilliant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> young man; you start getting +ideas of your own, and you're just a half-baked kid. You let the older +and wiser heads run things. You can't begin to hope to foul things up +the way they can. Look at all the experience they've had."</p> + +<p>"But we've got to have a ship. Everything depends on that."</p> + +<p>"I know it does. We'll get a ship. Let Kurt Fawzi and Klem Zareff and +the rest of them have this duplicate Force Command thing first, +though. Keep them happy. As soon as we have that opened, you can take +a gang and run over to Barathrum and grab your spaceport. Wait till +they find out that Merlin isn't at Force Command Duplicate. Then you +can convince them it's really on Koshchei."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<p>The car Rodney Maxwell got out of the hangar the next morning wasn't +the one he and Conn had gone to the meeting in; it was the one he had +flown in from Tenth Army HQ at noon of the previous day. An Army +reconnaissance job, slim and needlelike, completely enclosed, looking +more like a missile than a vehicle, and armored in dazzling, +iridescent collapsium. There was something to living on Poictesme, at +that; only a millionaire on Terra could have owned a car like that.</p> + +<p>"Nice," Conn said. "Where did you dig it?"</p> + +<p>"Where we're going, Tenth Army."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet she'll do Mach Three."</p> + +<p>"Better than that. I've never had her above 2.5, but the airspeed +gauge is marked up to four. And she has everything: all kinds of +detection instruments, cameras, audiovisual pickups, armament. And +the armor; you can take her through any kind of radiation."</p> + +<p>The armor was only a couple of micromicrons thick, but it would stop +anything. It was collapsed matter, the electron shells of the atoms +collapsed upon the nuclei, the atoms in actual contact. That plating +made eighth-inch sheet steel as heavy as twelve-inch armor plate, and +in texture and shielding properties, lead was like sponge by +comparison.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>They climbed in, and Rodney Maxwell snapped on the screens that served +as windows. Conn leaned back and looked at the underside view in a +screen on the roof of the car, as his father started the lift-engine.</p> + +<p>"Still think it's worth the price, son?" his father asked.</p> + +<p>The price had begun to rise; even so, he was afraid that what they had +paid so far was only the down payment. Dinner last evening. Flora, who +had evidently been talking to Wade Lucas, shouting accusations at +them; his mother fleeing from the table in tears. As the car rose, he +reached out and turned on and adjusted the telescreen for the +under-view.</p> + +<p>"Keep your eye on that, Father," he said. "That's what we're paying to +get rid of."</p> + +<p>A distillery, bigger than the Menardes plant, long closed and now half +roofless and crumbling. Rows of warehouses, empty after the War until +taken over by homeless vagrants. Jerry-built shanties with rattletrap +aircars grounded around them. Tramptown, a festering sore on the south +side of Litchfield.</p> + +<p>"If we put this over," he continued, "all those tramps will have +steady work and good homes. We can have a park there, with fountains +that'll work. Maybe even Flora and Mother will think we've done +something worth doing."</p> + +<p>"It'll be kind of hard to take in the meantime, though, but if you can +take it, I can." Rodney Maxwell turned off the underside teleview +screen and put on the forward one. "See that little pink spot over +there? Sunrise on the east side of Snagtooth; Tenth Army's just behind +us. Now, let's see if this airspeed gauge is telling the truth or just +bragging."</p> + +<p>Sudden acceleration pushed them back in their seats. The calibrations +on the gauge rose swiftly; the pink-lighted peak grew swiftly in the +teleview screen. The gauge hadn't been bragging, it had been +understating; the car had more speed than the instrument could +register. Two and a half minutes from Litchfield, they were +decelerating and swinging slowly around Snagtooth, looking down on a +tilted plateau that ended on the western side in a sheer drop of +almost a thousand feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>There were ruinous buildings on it: barracks and storehouses and +offices, an airship dock and an air-traffic control tower from which +all the glass had long ago vanished, a great steel telecast tower that +had fallen, crushing a couple of buildings. Young trees had already +grown among the wreckage.</p> + +<p>"Look over there, on the slope below it; there's one entrance to the +shelters." There was a clearing among the evergreens, half a mile from +the buildings, and raw earth, and a couple of big scows grounded near. +"They bulldozed rock and earth over the end of the tunnel. Then, +there's another one down on that bench, a couple of hundred feet below +the edge of the plateau. They blasted rock down over that. The main +entrance is a vertical shaft under that pre-stressed concrete dome. +That was chapel, auditorium, or something. They just covered it with +sheet metal and poured a foot of concrete on top."</p> + +<p>They floated down above the broken roofs and crumbling walls, and +grounded in the area between the main administration building and the +offices, back of the ship docks. Once, he supposed, it had been a +lawn. Then it had been a jungle. Now it was a scuffed, littered, +bare-trodden work-yard. Men were straggling out of the administration +building, lighting pipes and cigarettes; they all wore new but +work-soiled infantry battle dress. All of them waved and shouted +greetings; one, about Conn's own age, approached. As he got out, Conn +saw the resemblance to Lester Dawes, the banker, before he recognized +Anse Dawes, who had been one of his closest friends six years ago. +They shook hands and pounded each other on the back.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you're looking great, Conn!" They all told him that; he'd begin +to believe it pretty soon. "Sorry I couldn't make the party, but +somebody had to sit on the lid here, and Jerry Rivas and I cut cards +for it and Jerry won."</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell me Anse was with you," he reproached his father. +Rodney Maxwell said he'd been saving that for a surprise.</p> + +<p>When Conn asked Anse what was the matter with the bank, he said: "For +the birds; I'd as soon count sheets of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> toilet paper as this stuff +we're using for money. Sooner. Toilet paper can be used for something, +and this paper money's too stiff. Maybe some of this stuff we're +digging here isn't worth much, but at least it's real."</p> + +<p>That was something else the Maxwell Plan would have to take care of. +Gresham's Law was running hog-wild on Poictesme. A Planetary +Government sol was worth about ten centisols, Federation, and aside +from deposit boxes, woolen socks under the mattress, and tin cans +buried in the corner of the cellar, Federation currency was +nonexistent.</p> + +<p>"Had breakfast yet?" Rodney Maxwell asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hours ago. I was out and shot another spikenose; it's hanging up +back of the kitchen, waiting for the cook to skin it and cut it up." +He grinned at Conn. "You don't get this kind of hunting in a bank, +either."</p> + +<p>"Jerry still inside? I want to see him. Suppose you take Conn around +and show him the sights. And don't worry about him bumping you out of +a job. Worry about the six or eight extra jobs you'll have to do +besides your own, from now on."</p> + +<p>Conn and Anse crossed the yard and entered one of the office +buildings, through a big breach in the wall. Anse said: "I did that +myself; 90-mm tank gun. When we want a wall out of the way, we get it +out of the way." Inside were a lot of lifters and skids and power +shovels and things; laborers were assembling for work assignments. +Most of them had been with his father six years ago and he knew them. +They hadn't done any growing up in the meantime. They climbed into an +airjeep and floated out over the edge of the plateau, letting down +past the sheer cliff to where the lower lateral shaft had been opened. +A great deal of rock had been shoveled and bulldozed away to expose +it; it was twenty feet high and forty wide. Anse simply steered the +jeep inside and up the tunnel.</p> + +<p>There were occasional lights on at the ceiling. Anse said they were +all powered from their own nuclear-electric conversion units. "We +don't have the central power on here; there's a big mass-energy +converter, but we're tearing it down to ship out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>That was something they could get a good price for. Maybe even +one-tenth of what it was worth. At least they wouldn't have to sell it +by the ton.</p> + +<p>The tunnel ended in an enormous room a couple of hundred feet square +and fifty high. There was a wide aisle up the middle; on either side, +contragravity equipment was massed. Tanks with long 90-mm guns. Combat +cars. Small airboats. Rank on rank of air-cavalry single-mounts, +egg-shaped things just big enough for a man to sit in, with quadruple +machine guns in front and flame-jets behind. Ambulances armored +against radiation; decontamination units; mobile workshops; mobile +kitchens. Troop carriers, jeeps, staff cars; power shovels, +manipulators, lifters. All waiting, for forty years, to swarm out as +soon as the bombs that never came stopped falling.</p> + +<p>They floated the jeep along hallways beyond, and got down to look into +rooms. Work was already going on in the power plant; a gang under a +slim young man whom Anse introduced as Mohammed Matsui were using +repair-robots to get canisters of live plutonium out of a reactor. +Workshops. Laundries. Storerooms. Kitchens, some stripped and a few +still intact. A hospital. Guardhouse and lockup.</p> + +<p>More storerooms on the level above, reached by returning to the +vehicle hangar and lifting to an upper entrance. By this time, gangs +were at work there, too, moving contragravity skids in empty and out +loaded.</p> + +<p>"The CO here must have had squirrel blood," Anse said. "I think when +the evacuation orders came through he just gathered up everything +there was topside and crammed it down here, any old way. Honest to +Ghu, this place was packed solid when we found it. Nobody'd believe +it."</p> + +<p>"Wait till you see the next one."</p> + +<p>"You mean there's another place like this?"</p> + +<p>"You can say so. You can say a twenty-megaton thermonuclear is like a +hand grenade, too."</p> + +<p>Anse Dawes simply didn't believe that.</p> + +<p>When they got back to the Administration Building on top, they found +Rodney Maxwell, Jerry Rivas, the general foremen, and half a dozen +gang foremen, in consultation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We're getting a hundred and fifty more men and ten farm scows from +Litchfield," his father said. "Dave McCade's coming out from our yard, +and Tom Brangwyn's sending one of his deputies to help boss them. Well +have to keep an eye on this crowd; they're all Tramptown hoodlums, but +that's the best we can get. We're going to have to get this place +cleaned out in a hurry. We only have about two weeks till the +wine-pressing's over, and then we want to start the next operation. +Conn, did you see all that engineering equipment, down on the bottom +level?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I think we ought to leave a lot of that here—the shovels and +bulldozers and manipulators and so on. We can move it direct to Force +Command. How are we fixed for blasting explosives?"</p> + +<p>"Name it and we have it. Cataclysmite, FJ-7, anything you want."</p> + +<p>"We'll need a lot of it."</p> + +<p>"We're going to have to get a ship. I mean a contragravity ship, a +freighter; first, to move this stuff out of here, and then to move the +stuff out of Force Command. And we want it mounted with heavy +armament, too. We not only want a freighter, we want a fighting ship."</p> + +<p>"You think so?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of it," Rodney Maxwell said. "Where we're going is full of +outlaws; there must be hundreds of them holing up over there. That's +where all the trouble on the east coast comes from. Now, outlaws are +sure-thing players. They want to be alive to spend their loot, and +they won't tackle anything that's too tough for them. A lot of guards +and combat equipment may look like a loss on the books, but the books +won't show how much of a loss you might take if you didn't have them. +I want this operation armed till it'll be too much for all the outlaws +on the planet to tackle."</p> + +<p>That made sense. It also made sense out of the billions of sols the +Federation had spent preparing for an invasion that never came. If it +had come and found them unprepared, the loss might have been the war +itself.</p> + +<p>The scows and the newly hired workers began arriving a little after +noon. The scows had been borrowed from plantations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> where the crop +had been gotten in; there were melon leaves and bits of vine in +the bottoms. The workers were a bleary-eyed and unsavory lot; +Conn had a suspicion, which Brangwyn's deputy confirmed, that +they had been collected by mass vagrancy arrests in Tramptown. +As soon as they started arriving, Jerry Rivas hurried down to +the old provost-marshal's headquarters and came back with a lot +of rubber billy-clubs, which he issued to his gang-bosses, regular +and temporary. A few times they had to be used. By evening, however, +the insubordinate and troublesome had been quieted. They would all +steal anything they could put in their pockets, but that was to be +expected. By evening, too, the contents of the underground treasure +trove was moving out in a steady stream, and scows were shuttling to +and from Litchfield.</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell was going back to town after lunch the next day. Conn +wanted to know if he should go along.</p> + +<p>"No, you stay here; help keep things moving. Remember what I told you +about the older and wiser heads? Let me handle them. I've been around +them, heaven pity me, longer than you have. Just give me an +audiovisual of your proxy and I'll vote your stock."</p> + +<p>"How much stock do I have, by the way?"</p> + +<p>"The same as I have—ten thousand five hundred shares of common, at +twenty centisols a share. But watch where it goes after we open Force +Command."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>His father was back, two days later, to report:</p> + +<p>"We're organized. Kurt Fawzi's president, of course, and does he love +it. That'll keep him out of mischief. Dolf Kellton's secretary; he has +an office force at the Academy and can conscript students to help. +He's organizing a research team from his seniors and post-grad +students to work in the Planetary Library at Storisende. There are a +lot of old Third Force records there; he may find something useful. Of +course, Lester Dawes is treasurer."</p> + +<p>"What are you?"</p> + +<p>"Vice-president in charge of operations. That's what I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> spent all +yesterday log-rolling, baby-kissing and cigar-passing to get."</p> + +<p>"And what am I, if it's a fair question?"</p> + +<p>"You have a very distinguished position; you are a non-office-holding +stockholder. The only other one is Judge Ledue; as a member of the +judiciary, he did not feel it proper to accept official position in a +private corporation. Tom Brangwyn's Chief of Company Police; Klem +Fawzi is Commander of the Company Guards. And we have a law firm in +Storisende lined up to handle our charter application. Sterber, Flynn +& Chen-Wong. Sterber's married to Jake Vyckhoven's sister, Flynn's son +is married to the daughter of the Secretary of the Treasury, and +Chen-Wong is a nephew of the Chief Justice. All of them are directly +descended from members of Genji Gartner's original crew."</p> + +<p>"You don't anticipate any trouble about getting the charter?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. And Lester Dawes is in Storisende now, trying to find us +a contragravity ship. There are about a dozen in the hands of +receivers for bankrupt shipping companies; he might find one that's +still airworthy. Oh; you remember how I insisted on absolute secrecy +about our Merlin objective? That's working out better than my fondest +expectations. It's leaking like a machine-gunned water tank, and +everybody it leaks to is positive that we know exactly where Merlin is +or we wouldn't be trying to keep it a secret."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Three days later, Conn hitched a ride on a freight-scow to Litchfield. +From the air, he could see a haze of bonfire smoke over High Garden +Terrace, and a gang of men at work. There were more men at work on the +Mall and along the streets on either side. He went up from the yard +below the house, where the scow was being unloaded, and found his +mother in the living room watching a screen play with one eye and +keeping the other on a soulless machine like a miniature contragravity +tank, which was going over the carpet with a vacuum cleaner and taking +swipes at the furniture with a rotary dustmop. She was glad to see +him, and then became troubled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Conn, when Flora comes home, you won't argue with her, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Only in self-defense." That was the wrong thing to say. He changed it +to, "No; I won't argue with her at all," and then quoted Wade Lucas +quoting Thomas Paine. Then he had to assure his mother a couple of +times that there really was a Merlin, and then assure her that it +wouldn't get loose and hurt anybody if he did find it.</p> + +<p>In the middle of his assurances about the harmlessness of Merlin, the +housecleaning-robot began knocking things off the top of a table.</p> + +<p>"Oscar! You stop that!" his mother yelled.</p> + +<p>Oscar, deaf as the adder, kept on. Conn yelled at his mother to use +her control; she remembered that she had one, a thing like an +old-fashioned pocket watch, around her neck on a chain, and got the +robot stopped.</p> + +<p>No wonder she was afraid of Merlin.</p> + +<p>He took advantage of the interruption to get to his room and change +clothes, then went up to the hangar and got out an air-cavalry mount. +About fifty men were working on High Garden Terrace, pruning and +trimming and leveling the lawns. There was a big vitrifier on the +Mall—even at five hundred feet he could feel the heat from +it—chuffing and clanking and pouring lavalike molten rock for a new +pavement. And all the nymphs and satyrs and dryads and fauns and +centaurs had had their pedestals rebuilt and were sand-blasted clean.</p> + +<p>He landed on the top of the Airlines Building and rode a lift down to +the office where Kurt Fawzi neglected the affairs of his shipline +agency, his brokerage business, and the city of Litchfield. The +afternoon habitués had begun to gather—Raymond Fitch, the +used-vehicles dealer, Lorenzo Menardes, Judge Ledue, Tom Brangwyn, +Klem Zareff. Fawzi was on the screen, talking to somebody with sandy +hair and a suit that didn't seem to be made of any sort of Federation +Armed Forces material, about warehouse facilities. The addresses they +were mentioning were in Storisende.</p> + +<p>"No, Leo, I don't know when," Fawzi was saying, "but don't you worry. +You just have space for it, and we'll fill it up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> And don't ask me +what sort of stuff. You know what a salvage operation's like; you just +haul out the stuff as you come to it."</p> + +<p>Tom Brangwyn, lounging in one of the deep chairs, looked up.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Conn. We're having a time. Another two hundred tramps came in +on the <i>Countess</i> this morning, and Ghu only knows how many in their +own vehicles, and they all seem to think if there's work for some +there ought to be work for all, and some of them are getting nasty."</p> + +<p>"We can use some more out at the dig. The ones you sent out Thursday +are doing all right, once they found out we weren't taking any +foolishness."</p> + +<p>Fawzi turned away from the screen. "Well, Conn, we're in," he said. +"The charter was granted this morning; now we're Litchfield +Exploration & Salvage, Ltd. And Lester Dawes has found us a +contragravity ship."</p> + +<p>"How much will it cost us?"</p> + +<p>Fawzi began to laugh. "Conn, this'll slay you! She isn't costing us a +centisol. You know those old ships on Mothball Row, back of the old +West End ship docks at Storisende?"</p> + +<p>Conn nodded. He'd seen them before he had gone away, and from the +<i>City of Asgard</i> coming in—a lot of old Army Transport craft, covered +with muslin and sprayed with protectoplast. The Planetary Government +had taken them over after the War and forgotten them.</p> + +<p>"Well, Lester's getting one of them for us under the old 878 +Commercial Enterprise Encouragement Act. She's an Army combat +freighter, regimental ammunition ship. Of course, she still has +armament; we'll have to pay to get that off."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>Fawzi looked at him in surprise. "It would only be in the way and add +weight. We want her for a cargo ship, don't we?"</p> + +<p>"That's what she was built for. What kind of armament?"</p> + +<p>Fawzi didn't know. Klem Zareff did.</p> + +<p>"Four 115-mm rifles, two fore and two aft. A pair of lift-and-drive +missile launchers amidships. And a secondary gun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> battery of 70-mm's +and 50-mm auto-cannon. I know the class; we captured a few of them. +Good ships."</p> + +<p>Fawzi was horrified. "Why, that's more firepower than the whole Air +Patrol. Look, the Government won't like our having anything like +that."</p> + +<p>"They're giving her to us, aren't they?" Menardes asked.</p> + +<p>"Gehenna with what the Government likes!" the old Rebel swore. "If +they'd put a few of those ships into commission, they could wipe out +these outlaws and a private company wouldn't need an armed ship."</p> + +<p>"May I use your screen, Kurt?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>When Fawzi nodded, he punched out the combination of the operating +office at Tenth Army, and finally got his father on. He told him about +the ship.</p> + +<p>"There's talk about tearing the armament out," he added.</p> + +<p>"Is that so, now? Well, I'll call Lester Dawes before he can get +started on it. I think I'll go in to Storisende tomorrow and see the +ship for myself. See what I can do about ammunition for those guns, +too."</p> + +<p>"But, Rod," Fawzi protested, joining the conversation, "we don't want +to start a war."</p> + +<p>"No. We want to stay out of one. You don't do that by disarming. We're +taking that ship down into the Badlands. Remember?" Rodney Maxwell +said. "Ever hear the name Blackie Perales?"</p> + +<p>Fawzi had. He stopped arguing about armament. Instead, he began +worrying about how much the civic clean-up campaign was costing +Litchfield.</p> + +<p>"You think we really need that, Rod?"</p> + +<p>"Of course we do. You'd be surprised how much labor we're going to +need, and how hard up we're going to be for capable supervisors. This +thing's a training program, Kurt, and we'll need every man we train on +it."</p> + +<p>"But it's costing like Nifflheim, Rod. We're going to bankrupt the +city."</p> + +<p>"Worse than it is now, you mean? Oh, don't worry, Kurt. As soon as we +find Merlin, everything'll be all right."</p> + +<p>Franz Veltrin came in, shortly after Rodney Maxwell was off the +screen. He dropped his audiovisual camera and sound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> recorder on the +table, laid his pistol-belt on top of them and took a drink of brandy, +downing it with the audible satisfaction of a thirsty horse at a +trough. Then he looked around accusingly.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's been talking!" he declared. "I've had all the news +services on the planet on my screen today; they all want the story +about what's happening here. They've heard we know where Merlin is; +that Conn Maxwell found out on Terra."</p> + +<p>"They just put two and two together and threw seven," Conn said. "A +<i>Herald-Guardian</i> ship-news reporter interviewed me when I got in, and +found out I'd been studying cybernetics and computer theory on Terra. +What did you tell them?"</p> + +<p>"Complete denial. We don't know a thing about Merlin. Naturally, they +didn't believe me. A bunch of them are coming out here tomorrow. What +are we going to tell them? We'll all have to have the same story."</p> + +<p>"I," said Judge Ledue, "am not going to be interviewed, I am leaving +town till they're gone."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you steer them onto Wade Lucas?" Conn asked. "If you want +anything denied, he'll do it for you."</p> + +<p>Everybody thought that was a wonderful idea, except Klem Zareff, and +he waited until Conn was ready to go and rode up to the landing stage +with him.</p> + +<p>"Conn, I know this Lucas is going to marry your sister," he began, +"but how much do you know about him?"</p> + +<p>"Not much. He seems like a nice chap. I don't hold what he said at the +meeting against him. I suppose if I'd come from off-planet, I wouldn't +believe in Merlin either."</p> + +<p>"Hah! But doesn't he believe in Merlin?"</p> + +<p>"He makes noises like it."</p> + +<p>"You know what I think?" Klem Zareff lowered his voice to a whisper. +"I think he's a Federation spy! I think the Federation's lost Merlin. +That's why they haven't come back to get it long ago."</p> + +<p>"Pretty big thing to mislay."</p> + +<p>"It could happen. There'd only be a few scientists and some high staff +officers who'd know where it was. Well, say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> they all went back to +Terra on the same ship, and the ship was lost at space. Sabotage, one +of our commerce raiders that hadn't heard the War was over, maybe just +an ordinary accident. But the ship's lost, and the location of +Merlin's lost with her."</p> + +<p>"That could happen," Conn agreed seriously.</p> + +<p>"All right. So ever since, they've had people here, listening, +watching, spying. This Lucas; he showed up here about a year after you +went to Terra. And who does he get engaged to? Your sister. And what +does he do here? Goes around arguing that there is no Merlin, getting +people to argue with him, getting them mad, so they'll blurt out +anything they know. I'm an old field officer; I know all the +prisoner-interrogation tricks in the book, and that's always been one +of the best."</p> + +<p>"Then why did he act the way he did at the meeting? All he did there +was cut himself off from learning anything more from any of us. In his +place, would you have done that? No; you'd have tried to take the lead +in hunting for Merlin yourself. Now wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>Zareff was silent, first puzzled, and then hurt. Now he would have to +tear the whole idea down and build it over.</p> + +<p>Flora was quite friendly when she came home from school. She'd found +out, somewhere, that Conn had been the originator of the municipal +face-lifting project. He was tempted, briefly, to tell her a little, +if not all, of the truth about the Maxwell Plan, then decided against +it. The way to keep a secret was to confide it to nobody; every time +you did, you doubled, maybe even squared, the chances of exposure.</p> + +<p>He told his father, when Rodney Maxwell came in from the dig, about +his talk with Klem Zareff.</p> + +<p>"How long's he been like that, anyhow?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"As long as I've known him. When it comes to melons and wine and +bossing tramp labor and taking care of his money and coming in out of +the rain, Klem Zareff's as sane as I am. But on the subject of the +Terran Federation, he's crazy as a bedbug. What is a bedbug, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"They have them on Terra, in places like Tramptown. They have places +like Tramptown on Terra, too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Uhuh. I suppose, in Klem's boots, I'd be just as crazy as he is," +Rodney Maxwell said. "One minute, he had a wife and two children in +Kindelburg, on Ashmodai, and the next minute Kindelburg was a puddle +of radioactive slag."</p> + +<p>"That was in '51, wasn't it? I read about it," Conn said. "It was a +famous victory."</p> + +<p>That was from a poem, too.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell flew to Storisende early the next morning. Conn rode +back to Tenth Army on an empty scow and pitched into the job of +getting the stores and equipment out of the underground shelters. More +farm-tramps arrived, and had to be pounded into obedience and taught +the work. At the same time, Litchfield was getting a steady influx of +job-seekers, and a secondary swarm of thugs, grifters and gangsters +who followed them. Klem Zareff, having gotten all his melons pressed, +came out to Tenth Army, where he selected fifty of the best men from +the work-gangs and began drilling them as soldiers to guard the next +operation. The manual of arms, drill and salute he taught them was, of +course, System States Alliance.</p> + +<p>A week later, the ship arrived from Storisende; a hundred and sixty +feet, three thousand tons, small enough to be berthed inside a +hyperspace transport, and fast enough to get a load of ammunition to +troops at the front, unload, and get out again before the enemy could +zero in on her, and armed to fight off any Army Air Force combat +craft. The delay had been in recruiting officers and crew. The captain +and chief engineer were out-of-work shipline officers, the gunner was +a former Federation artillery officer, and the crew looked more like +pirates than most pirates did.</p> + +<p>They christened her the <i>Lester Dawes</i>, because Dawes had secured her +and because the name began with the initials of Litchfield Exploration +& Salvage. From then on, it was a race to see whether the Tenth Army +attack-shelters would be emptied before the wine was all pressed, or +vice versa.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p>Fifty-two years before, they had come to the mesa in the Badlands and +dug a pit on top of it, a thousand feet in diameter and more than five +hundred deep, and in it they built a duplicate of the headquarters for +Third Fleet-Army Force Command. They built a shaft a hundred feet in +diameter like a chimney at one side, and they ran a tunnel out through +solid rock to the head of a canyon half a mile away. Then they buried +the whole thing. Twelve years later, when the War was over, they +sealed both entrances and went away and left it.</p> + +<p>For a month each winter, cold rains from the east lashed the desert; +for the rest of the year, it was swept by windblown sand. Wiregrass +sprouted, and thornbush grew; Nature, the master-camoufleur, completed +the work of hiding the forgotten headquarters. Little things not +unlike rabbits scampered over it, and bigger things, vaguely foxlike, +hunted them. Hunted men came, too, their aircars skimming low. None of +them had the least idea what was underneath.</p> + +<p>The mesa-top came suddenly to life, just as the sun edged up out of +the east. Conn and his father and Anse Dawes came in first, in the +recon-car with which they had scouted and photographed the site a few +days before. They circled at a thousand feet, fired a smoke bomb, and +then let down near where Conn's map showed the head of the vertical +shaft. The rest followed, first a couple of combat cars that circled +slowly, scanning the ground, and then the <i>Lester Dawes</i> with her big +guns and her load of equipment, and behind a queue of boats and scows +and heavy engineering equipment on contragravity and troop carriers +full of workmen and guards, flanked by air cavalry, which circled +above while everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> else landed, then scattered out over a +fifty-mile radius. Occasionally there was a hammering of machine guns, +either because somebody saw something on the ground that might need +shooting at or simply because it was a beautiful morning to make a +noise.</p> + +<p>The ship settled quickly and daintily, while Conn and Anse and Rodney +Maxwell sat in the car and watched. Immediately, she began opening +like a beetle bursting from its shell, large sections of armor +swinging outward. Except for the bridge and the gun turrets, almost +the whole ship could be opened; she had been designed to land in the +middle of a battle and deliver ammunition when seconds could mean the +difference between life and death. Jeeps and lifters and manipulators +and things floated out of her. Scows began landing and unloading +prefab-hut elements. A water tank landed, and the cook-shed began +going up beside it; a lorry came in with scanning and probing +equipment, and a couple of men jumped off and huddled over a +photoprint copy of one of Conn's maps.</p> + +<p>Conn lifted the car again and coasted it half a mile to where the +cleft in the mesa started. There were half a dozen claw-armed +manipulators already there, and two giant power shovels. Jerry Rivas +and one of the engineers Kurt Fawzi had hired had gotten out of a jeep +and were looking at another photoprint of the map. Rivas pointed to +the head of the canyon, where a mass of rock had slid down.</p> + +<p>"That's it; you can still see where they put off the shots."</p> + +<p>The canyon was long enough and wide enough for the <i>Lester Dawes</i> to +land in it; she could be loaded directly from the tunnel. The +manipulators began moving in, wrestling with the larger chunks of rock +and dragging or carrying them away. Power shovels began grunting and +clanking and rumbling; dust rose in a thick column. Toward midmorning, +the troop carriers which served as school buses in Litchfield arrived, +loaded with more workmen. A lorry lettered <span class="smcap">Storisende +Herald-Guardian</span> came in, hovered over the canyon, and began +transmitting audiovisuals. More news-folk put in an appearance.</p> + +<p>The earth and rock at the top of the tunnel entrance fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> away, +revealing the vitrified stone lintel; everybody cheered and dug +harder. More aircars arrived, getting in each other's and everybody +else's way. Raymond Fitch, Lester Dawes, Lorenzo Menardes and Morgan +Gatworth. Dolf Kellton, playing hookey from school. Kurt Fawzi; he +landed in the canyon and watched every shovelful of rock lifted, as +though trying to help with mental force. Tom Brangwyn, with a score of +the Home Guard to reinforce the Company Police. Klem Zareff called in +his air cavalry to help control the sightseers. Nobody was making +trouble; they were just getting in the way.</p> + +<p>At eleven, Rodney Maxwell went aboard the <i>Lester Dawes</i> to use the +radio and telescreen equipment. By then, two time zones west in +Storisende, the Claims Office was opening; he filed preliminary claim +to an underground installation with at least two entrances in +uninhabited country, and claimed a ten-mile radius around it. By that +time, the gang working on top had uncovered a vitrified slab over the +hundred-foot circle of the vertical shaft and were cracking it with +explosives. According to the scanners, it was full of loose rubble for +a hundred feet down. Below that, the microrays hit something +impenetrable.</p> + +<p>Toward midafternoon, the tunnel in the canyon was cleared. It had been +vitrified solid; the scanners reported that it was plugged for ten +feet. A contragravity tank let down in front of it, with a solenoid +jackhammer mounted where the gun should have been, and began pounding, +running a hole in for a blast shot. There were more explosions +topside; when Conn took a jeep up to observe progress there, he found +the vitrified rock blown completely off the vertical shaft, exposing +the rubble that had been dumped into it. The gang on the mesa-top had +discovered something else; a grid of auro-copper bussbars buried four +feet underground. Ten to one, radio and telescreen signals would be +transmitted to that from below, and then probably picked up and +rebroadcast from a relay station on one or another of the high buttes +in the neighborhood. Time enough to look for that later. He returned +to the canyon, where the lateral tunnel was now almost completely +open.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>When it was clear, they sent a snooper in first. It was a robot, +looking slightly like a short-tailed tadpole, six feet long by three +feet at the thickest. It transmitted a view of the tunnel as it went +slowly in; the air, it found, was breathable, and there were no +harmful radiations or other dangers. According to the plans, there +should be a big room at the other end, slightly curved, a hundred feet +wide by a hundred on either side of the tunnel entrance. The robot +entered this, and in its headlight they could see reconnaissance-cars, +and contragravity tanks with 90-mm guns. It swerved slightly to the +left, and then the screen stopped receiving, the telemetered +instruments went dead and the robot's signal stopped.</p> + +<p>"Tom," Rodney Maxwell said, "you keep the crowd back. Klem, stay with +the screens; I'll transmit to you. I'm going in to see what's wrong."</p> + +<p>He started to give Conn an argument when he wanted to accompany him.</p> + +<p>"No," Conn said. "I'm going along. What do you think I went to Terra +to study robotics for?"</p> + +<p>His father snapped on the screen and pickup of the jeep that was +standing nearby. "You getting it, Klem?" he asked. "Okay, Conn. Let's +go."</p> + +<p>Half a mile ahead, at the other end of the tunnel, they could see a +flicker of light that grew brighter as they advanced. The snooper +still had its light on and was moving about. Once they caught a +momentary signal from it. As Rodney Maxwell piloted the jeep, Conn +kept talking to Klem Zareff, outside. Then they were at the end of the +tunnel and entering the room ahead; it was full of vehicles, like the +one on the bottom level at Tenth Army HQ. As soon as they were inside, +Klem Zareff's voice in the radio stopped, as though the set had been +shot out.</p> + +<p>"Klem! What's wrong? We aren't getting you," his father was saying.</p> + +<p>The snooper was drifting aimlessly about, avoiding the parked +vehicles. Conn used the manual control to set it down and deactivate +it, then got out and went to examine it.</p> + +<p>"Take the jeep over to the tunnel entrance," he told his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> father. +"Move out into the tunnel a few feet; relay from me to Klem."</p> + +<p>The jeep moved over. A moment later his father cried, "He's getting +me; I'm getting him. What's the matter with the radio in here? The +snooper's all right, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>It was. Conn reactivated it and put it up above the tops of the +vehicles.</p> + +<p>"Sure. We just can't transmit out."</p> + +<p>"But only half a mile of rock; that set's good for more than that. +It'll transmit clear through Snagtooth."</p> + +<p>"It won't transmit through collapsium."</p> + +<p>His father swore disgustedly, repeating it to Zareff outside. Conn +could hear the old soldier, in the radio, make a similar remark. They +should have all expected that, in the first place. If the Third Force +High Command was expecting to sit out a nuclear bombardment in this +place, they'd armor it against anything.</p> + +<p>"Bring the gang in; it's safe as far as we've gotten," his father +said. "We'll just have to string wires out."</p> + +<p>Conn used his flashlight and found the power unit for the room lights; +all the overhead lights were wired to one unit, if wired were the word +for gold-leaf circuits cemented to the walls and covered with +insulating paint. For the heavy stuff, like the ventilator fans, +they'd have to find the central power plant. He looked around the big +room, poking into some of the closets that lined it. Radiation-proof +clothing. Tools. Arms and ammunition. First-aid kits. Emergency +rations. All the vehicles were plated in shimmering collapsium.</p> + +<p>The crowd started coming in: the work-gangs selected for the first +exploration work, most of them old hands of Rodney Maxwell's; the +engineers they had recruited; Mohammed Matsui—he had a gang of his +own, the same one he had been using in tearing down the converter at +Tenth Army; the stockholders and officials; the press. And everybody +else Tom Brangwyn's police hadn't been able to keep out.</p> + +<p>The power plant was at the extreme bottom; Matsui began looking it over +at once. Above it they found the service facilities—air-and-water +plant; pumps for the artesian well;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> sewage disposal. Then repair ships, +and a laboratory, and laundries and kitchens above that.</p> + +<p>"Where do you suppose it is?" Kurt Fawzi was asking. "Up at the very +top, I suppose. Let's go up and work down; I can't wait till we've +found it."</p> + +<p>Like a kid on Christmas Eve, Conn thought. And there was no Santa +Claus, and Christmas had been abolished.</p> + +<p>The place was built in concentric circles, level above level. Combat +equipment nearest the tunnel exit and nearest the vertical shaft, and +ambulances and decontamination units and equipment for relief and +rebuilding next. Storerooms, mile on circular mile of them. Not the +hasty packrat cramming he'd seen at Tenth Army; everything had been +brought in in order, carefully piled or racked, and then left. More +stores for the next three levels up; then living quarters. Enlisted +men's and women's quarters, no signs of occupancy. Enlisted kitchens +and mess halls, untouched.</p> + +<p>Most of the officers' quarters were similarly unused, but here and +there some had been occupied. A sloppily made bed. A used cake of soap +in the bathroom. An empty bottle in a closet. Officers' commissary +stores had been used from and replaced; the officers' mess hall and +kitchen had been in constant use, and the officers' club had a +comfortably scuffed and lived-in look. There had been a few people +there all the time of the War.</p> + +<p>"Men and women, all officers or civilians," Klem Zareff said. "Didn't +even have enlisted men to cook for them. And we haven't found a scrap +of paper with writing on it, or an inch of recorded sound-tape or +audiovisual film. Remember those big wire baskets, down at the +mass-energy converters? Before they left, they disintegrated every +scrap of writing or recording. This is where Merlin is; they were the +people who worked with it."</p> + +<p>And above, offices. General Staff. War Planning, with an incredibly +complex star-map of the theater of war. Judge Advocate General. +Inspector General. Service of Supply. They were full of computers, +each one firing the hopes of people like Fawzi and Dolf Kellton and +Judge Ledue, but they were only special-purpose machines, the sort to +be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> found in any big business office. The Storisende Stock Exchange +probably had much bigger ones.</p> + +<p>Then they found big ones, rank on rank of cabinets, long consoles +studded with lights and buttons, programming machines.</p> + +<p>"It's Merlin!" Fawzi almost screamed. "We've found it!"</p> + +<p>One of the reporters who had followed them in snatched his radio +handphone from his belt and jabbered, then, realizing that the +collapsium shielding kept him from getting out with it, he replaced it +and bolted away.</p> + +<p>"Hold it!" Conn yelled at the others, who were also becoming +hysterical. "Wait till I take a look at this thing."</p> + +<p>They managed to calm themselves. After all, he should know what it +was; wasn't that why he'd gone to school on Terra? They followed him +from machine to machine, first hopefully and then fearfully. Finally +he turned, shaking his head and feeling like the doctor in a film +show, telling the family that there's no hope for Grandpa.</p> + +<p>"This is not Merlin. This is the personnel-file machine. It's taped +for the records and data of every man and woman in the Third Force for +the whole War. It's like the student-record machine at the +University."</p> + +<p>"Might have known it; this section in here's marked G-1 all over +everything; that's personnel. Wouldn't have Merlin in here," Klem +Zareff was saying.</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll just keep on hunting for it till we do find it," Kurt +Fawzi said. "It's here somewhere. It has to be."</p> + +<p>The next level up was much smaller. Here were the offices of the top +echelons of the Force Command Staff. They, unlike the ones below, had +been used; from them, too, every scrap of writing or film or +record-tape had vanished.</p> + +<p>Finally, they entered the private office of Force-General Foxx Travis. +It had not only been used, it was in disorder. Ashtrays full, many of +the forty-year-old cigarette ends lipstick tinted. Chairs shoved +around at random. Three bottles on the desk, with Terran bourbon +labels; two empty and one with about an inch of whisky left in it. But +no glasses.</p> + +<p>That bothered Conn. Somehow, he couldn't quite picture the commander +and staff of the Third Fleet-Army Force passing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> bottles around and +drinking from the neck. Then he noticed that the wall across the room +was strangely scarred and scratched. Dropping his eye to the floor +under it, he caught the twinkle of broken glass. They had gathered +here, and talked for a long time. Then they had risen, for a final +toast, and when it was drunk, they had hurled their glasses against +the wall and smashed them.</p> + +<p>Then they had gone out, leaving the broken glass and the empty +bottles; knowing that they would never return.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p>Before they returned to the lower level into which the lateral tunnel +entered, Matsui and his gang had the power plant going; the ventilator +fans were humming softly, and whenever they pressed a starting button, +the escalators began to move. They got the pumps going, and the +oxygen-generators, and the sewage disposal system. Until the +communication center could be checked and the relay station found, +they ran a cable out to the <i>Lester Dawes</i>, landed in the canyon, and +used her screen-and-radio equipment. Before the Claims Office in +Storisende closed, Rodney Maxwell had transmitted in recorded views of +the interior, and enough of a description for a final claim. They also +received teleprint copies of the Storisende papers. The first story, +in an extra edition of the <i>Herald-Guardian</i>, was headlined, +<span class="smcap">Merlin Found</span>! That would have been the reporter who bolted +off prematurely when they first saw the personnel record machines. +Conn wondered if he still had a job. A later edition corrected this, +but was full of extravagant accounts of what had been discovered. +Merlin or no Merlin, Force Command Duplicate was the biggest +abandoned-property discovery since the Third Force left the +Trisystem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>The camp they had set up on top of the mesa was used, that night, only +by Klem Zareff's guards. Everybody else was inside, eating cold +rations when hungry and, when they could keep awake no longer, bedding +down on piles of blankets or going up to the barracks rooms above.</p> + +<p>The next day they found the relay station which rebroadcast signals +from the buried aerial—or wouldn't one say, sub-terrial?—on top of +the mesa. As Conn had expected, it was on top of a high butte three +and a half miles to the south; it had been so skillfully camouflaged +that none of the outlaw bands who roamed the Badlands had found it. +After that, Force Command Duplicate was in communication with the rest +of Poictesme.</p> + +<p>They moved into the staff headquarters at the top; Foxx Travis's +office, tidied up, became the headquarters for the company officials +and chief supervisors. The workmen quartered themselves in the +enlisted barracks, helping themselves liberally to anything they +found. The crowds of sightseers kept swarming in, giving Tom +Brangwyn's police plenty to do. Tom himself turned the marshal's +office in Litchfield over to his chief deputy. Klem Zareff insisted on +more men for his guard force. A dozen gunboats, eighty-foot craft +mounting one 90-mm gun, several smaller auto-cannon and one +missile-launcher, had been found; he took them over immediately, +naming them for capital ships of the old System States Navy. It took +some argument to dissuade him from repainting all of them black and +green. He kept them all in the air, with a swarm of smaller airboats +and combat-cars, circling the underground headquarters at a radius of +a hundred miles. These patrols reported a general exodus from the +region. At least a dozen outlaw bands, all with fast contragravity, +had been camped inside the zone. Some fled at once; the rest needed +only a few warning shots to send them away. Other bands, looking like +legitimate prospecting parties, began to filter into the Badlands. +Zareff came to Rodney Maxwell—instead of Kurt Fawzi, the titular head +of the company, which was significant—to find out what policy +regarding them would be.</p> + +<p>"Well, we have no right to keep them out, as long as they stay outside +our ten-mile radius," Conn's father said. "And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> as we're the only +thing that even looks like law around here, I'd say we have an +obligation to give them protection. Have your boats investigate them; +if they're legitimate, tell them they can call on us for help if they +need it."</p> + +<p>Conn protested, privately.</p> + +<p>"There's a lot of stuff around here, in small caches," he said. +"Equipment for guerrilla companies, in event of invasion. When work +slacks off here, we could pick that stuff up."</p> + +<p>"Conn, there's an old stock-market maxim: 'A bear can make money +sometimes, and a bull can make money sometimes, but in the long run, a +hog always loses.' Let the other people find some of this; it'll all +help the Plan. Fact is, I've been thinking of leaking some +information, if I can do it without Fawzi and that gang finding out. +Do you know a good supply depot or something like that, say over on +Acaire, or on the west coast? Big enough to be important, and to start +a second prospectors' rush away from us."</p> + +<p>"How about one of those hospitals?"</p> + +<p>"No; not a hospital. We might use them to talk Wade Lucas into joining +us. A lot of medical stores would be a good bait for him. I'm afraid +he's going to make trouble if we don't do something about him."</p> + +<p>"Well, how about engineering and construction equipment? I know where +there's a lot of that, down to the southwest."</p> + +<p>"That's farming country; that stuff'll be useful down there. I'll do +that."</p> + +<p>The next morning, Rodney Maxwell scorched the stratosphere to +Storisende in his recon-car. The day after he got back, there was a +big discovery of engineering equipment to the southwest and, as he had +anticipated, a second rush of prospectors. They had the vertical shaft +clear now, and the <i>Lester Dawes</i> was shuttling back and forth between +Force Command Duplicate and Storisende. Other ships were coming in, +now, mostly privately owned freighting ships. They bought almost +anything, as fast as it came out.</p> + +<p>The stock market had been paralyzed for a couple of days after the +discovery of Force Command; nobody seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> know what to sell and +what to hold. Now it was going perfectly insane. Twenty or thirty new +companies were being formed; unlike Litchfield Exploration & Salvage, +they were all offering their stock to the public. A week after the +opening of Force Command, the Stock Exchange reported the first +half-million-share day since the War. A week after that, there were +two million-share days in succession.</p> + +<p>Some of the L. E. & S. stockholders who had come out on the first day +began drifting back to Litchfield. Lester Dawes was the first to +defect; there was nothing he could do at Force Command, and a great +deal that needed his personal attention at the bank. Morgan Gatworth +and Lorenzo Menardes and one or two others followed. Kurt Fawzi, +however, refused to leave. Merlin was somewhere here at Force Command, +he was sure of it, and he wasn't leaving till it was found. Neither +were Franz Veltrin or Dolf Kellton or Judge Ledue. Tom Brangwyn +resigned as town marshal; Klem Zareff was too busy even to think of +Merlin; he had almost as many men under his command, and twice as much +contragravity, as he had had when the System States Alliance Army had +surrendered.</p> + +<p>Conn flew to Litchfield, and found that the public works project had +come to a stop at noon of the day when Force Command was entered, and +that nothing had been done on it since. The cold vitrifier was still +standing in the middle of the Mall, and topside Litchfield was +littered in a dozen places with forsaken equipment and half-completed +paving. There was no one in Kurt Fawzi's office in the Airlines +Building, and the employment office was jammed with migratory workers +vainly seeking jobs.</p> + +<p>He hunted up Morgan Gatworth, the lawyer.</p> + +<p>"Can't some of you get things started again?" he wanted to know. "This +place is worse than it was before they started cleaning up."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know." Gatworth walked to an open window and looked down on +the littered Mall. "But everybody just dropped everything as soon as +you opened Force Command. Kurt Fawzi's not been back here since."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're here. Lester Dawes and Lorenzo Menardes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> are here. Why +don't you just take over. Kurt Fawzi couldn't care less what you do; +he's forgotten he is mayor of Litchfield. He's forgotten there is a +Litchfield."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't like to just move into the mayor's office and take +over...."</p> + +<p>From somewhere below, a submachine gun hammered. There were yells, +pistol shots, and the submachine gun hammered again, a couple of short +bursts.</p> + +<p>"Some of the farm-tramps who can't get jobs, trying to steal something +to eat, I suppose," Conn commented. Gatworth was frowning +thoughtfully. He'd only need one more, very slight, push. "Why don't +you talk to Wade Lucas. He's got brains, and he's honest—nobody but +an honest man would have made himself as unpopular as Lucas has. If +you pretend to be disillusioned with this Merlin business it might +help convince him."</p> + +<p>"He was blaming you and your father for what's been going on here in +the last two weeks. Yes. He'd help get things straightened out."</p> + +<p>At home, he found his mother simply dazed. She was happy to see him, +and solicitous about his and his father's health. It seemed at times, +though, as if he were somebody she had never met before. Events had +gotten so far beyond her that she wasn't even trying to catch up.</p> + +<p>Flora, returning from school, stopped short when she saw him.</p> + +<p>"Well! I hope you like what you've done!" she greeted him.</p> + +<p>"For a start, yes."</p> + +<p>"For a start! You know what you've done?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I don't know what you think I've done, though. Tell me."</p> + +<p>"You've turned everything into a madhouse; you've sent this whole +world Merlin-crazy. Look at the stock market...."</p> + +<p>"You look at it. All I can see is a pack of lunatics playing Russian +roulette with five chambers loaded out of six. Some of this so-called +stock that's being peddled around isn't worth five millisols a +share—Seekers for Merlin, Ltd., closed today at a hundred and +seventy. You notice, there isn't any L. E.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> & S. being traded. If you +don't believe me, talk to Lester Dawes; he'll tell you what we think +of this market."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's your fault!"</p> + +<p>"In part it's my fault that any of these quarter-wits have any money +to play the market with. They wouldn't have money enough to play a +five-centisol slot machine if we hadn't gotten a little business +started."</p> + +<p>There was just a little truth to that, too. A few woolen socks were +coming out from under mattresses, and a few tin cans were being +exhumed in cellars, since the new flood of Federation equipment and +supplies had gotten on the market. He'd seen a freshly lettered sign +on Len Yeniguchi's tailor shop: <span class="smcap">QUARTER PRICE IN FEDERATION +CURRENCY</span>.</p> + +<p>That night, however, he had one of the nightmares he used to have as a +child—a dream of climbing up onto a huge machine and getting it +started, and then clinging, helpless and terrified, unable to stop it +as it went faster and faster toward destruction.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Klem Zareff's patrols were encountering larger outlaw bands, the +result of gang mergers. They were fighting with prospecting parties, +and prospecting parties were fighting one another. Much of this was +making the newscasts. One battle, between two regularly chartered +prospecting companies, lasted three days, with an impressive casualty +list.</p> + +<p>Public demands were growing that the Planetary Government do something +about the situation; the Government was wondering what to do, or how. +There were indignant questions in Parliament. Finally, the Government +dragged a couple of armed ships off Mothball Row—a combat freighter +like the <i>Lester Dawes</i>, and a big assault transport—and began trying +to get them into commission.</p> + +<p>And, of course, the market boom was still on. The newscasts were full +of that, too. He had started worrying about <i>if</i> a bust came; now he +was worrying about what would happen <i>when</i> it did. Another good +reason for wanting to get to Koshchei and getting a hypership built; +when the bust came, he and his father would want one, very badly.</p> + +<p>In any case, it was time to begin getting an expedition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> ready for +Barathrum Spaceport. Quite a few of the new companies had large +contragravity craft, and the nascent Planetary Air Navy was +approaching a state of being. He wanted to get out there before +anybody else did.</p> + +<p>Maybe if they got the hypership built soon enough, it would start a +second, sound boom that would cushion the crash of the present +speculative market when it came, as come it must.</p> + +<p>He talked to Klem Zareff about borrowing a couple of the eighty-foot +gunboats. Zareff's attitude was automatically negative.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't weaken our defense-perimeter; we'd be inviting disaster. +Why, this whole country in here is simply swarming with outlaws. They +fired on one of our gunboats, the <i>Werewolf</i>, yesterday."</p> + +<p>He'd heard about that; somebody had launched a missile from the +ground, and the <i>Werewolf</i> had detonated it with a counter-missile. It +had probably been some legitimate prospecting company who'd taken the +L. E. & S. craft for a pirate.</p> + +<p>"And there was a battle down in the Devil's Pigpen day before +yesterday."</p> + +<p>That had been outlaws; they had been annihilated by something calling +itself Seekers for Merlin, Ltd., whose stock was still skyrocketing on +the Exchange. He mentioned that.</p> + +<p>"These other prospecting companies are doing a lot of our +outlaw-fighting for us, and as long as the country's full of small +independent parties, the outlaws go after them and leave us alone."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I have my doubts about a lot of these prospecting companies, +and a lot of the outlaws, too," Zareff said. "I think a lot of both +are Federation agents; they're waiting till we find Merlin, and then +they'll all jump us."</p> + +<p>"Well," Conn adjusted his argument to the old Rebel's obsession, "I'll +admit that, as a possibility. If so, we'll need heavier weapons than +we have. This spaceport on Barathrum might be just the place to get +them."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It might. Defense armament, and stored ships' weapons. Say, if +we grab that place and move all the heavy guns and missiles here, we +could stand off anybody." The thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> of a fight with minions of the +Terran Federation seemed to have shaved ten years off his age in a +twinkling. "You take the <i>Lester Dawes</i>, and, let's say, three of +these gunboats. Let me see. <i>Goblin</i>, Fred Karski. And <i>Vampire</i>, +Charley Gatworth. And <i>Dragon</i>, Stefan Jorisson. They're all good men. +Home Guard; trained them myself."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you coming, Colonel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd like to, Conn, but I can't. I don't want to be away from +here; no telling what might happen. But you keep in constant +screen-contact; if you get into any trouble, I'll come with everything +I can put into the air."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + + +<p>Barathrum was a grim land, naked black and gray. Spines and crags of +bare rock jutted up, lava-flows like black glaciers twisting among +them. It was split by faults and fissures, pimpled with ash-cones. +Except for the seabirds that nested among the cliffs and the few thin +patches of green where seeds windblown from the mainland had taken +root, it was as lifeless as when some ancient convulsion had thrust it +up from the sea, Barathrum was a dead Inferno, untenanted even by the +damned; by comparison, the Badlands seemed lushly fertile.</p> + +<p>The four craft crossed above the line of white breakers that marked +the division of sea and land; the gunboat <i>Goblin</i> in the lead, her +sisters, <i>Vampire</i> and <i>Dragon</i> to right and left and a little behind, +and the <i>Lester Dawes</i> a few miles in the rear. Fred Karski was at the +<i>Goblin's</i> controls; Conn, beside him, was peering ahead into the +teleview screen and shifting his eyes from it to the map and back +again.</p> + +<p>Somebody behind him was saying that it would be a nice place to be +air-wrecked. Somebody else was telling him not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> to joke about it. From +the radio, his father was asking: "Can you see it, yet?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. We're on the right map-and-compass direction; we should +before long."</p> + +<p>"We're picking up radiation," Fred Karski said. "Way above normal +count. I hope the place isn't hot."</p> + +<p>"We're getting that, too," Rodney Maxwell said. "Looks like power +radiation; something must be on there."</p> + +<p>After forty years, that didn't seem likely. He leaned over to look at +the omnigeiger, then whistled. If that was normal leakage from +inactive power units, there must be enough of them to power ten towns +the size of Litchfield.</p> + +<p>"Something's operating there," he said, and then realized what that +meant. Somebody had beaten them to the spaceport. That would be one of +the new companies formed after the opening of Force Command. He was +wishing, now, that he hadn't let himself be talked out of coming here +first. Older and wiser heads indeed!</p> + +<p>Fred Karski whistled shrilly into his radio phone. "Attention +everybody! General alert. Prepare for combat; prepare to take +immediate evasive action. We must assume that the spaceport is +occupied, and that the occupants are hostile. Captain Poole, will you +please make ready aboard your ship? Reduce both speed and altitude, +and ready your guns and missiles at once."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, wait a minute, young fellow," Poole began to argue. "You +don't know—"</p> + +<p>"No. I don't. And I want all of us alive after we find out, too," +Karski replied.</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell's voice, in the background, said something +indistinguishable. Poole said ungraciously, "Well, all right, if you +think so...."</p> + +<p>The <i>Lester Dawes</i> began dropping to the rear and going down toward +the ground. Conn returned to the teleview screen in time to see the +truncated cone of the extinct volcano rise on the horizon, dwarfing +everything around it. Fred Karski was talking to Colonel Zareff, back +at Force Command, giving him the radiation count.</p> + +<p>"That's occupied," the old soldier replied. "Mass-energy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> converter +going. Now, Fred, don't start any shooting unless you have to, but +don't get yourself blown to MC waiting on them to fire the first +shot."</p> + +<p>The dark cone bulked higher and higher in the screen. It must be seven +miles around the crater, and a mile deep; when that thing blew out, +ten or fifteen thousand years ago, it must have been something to see, +preferably from a ship a thousand miles off-planet. It was so huge +that it was hard to realize that the jumbled foothills around it were +themselves respectably lofty mountains.</p> + +<p>When they were within five miles of it, something twinkled slightly +near the summit. An instant later, the missileman, in his turret +overhead, shouted:</p> + +<p>"Missile coming up; counter-missile off!"</p> + +<p>"Grab onto something, everybody!" Karski yelled, bracing himself in +his seat.</p> + +<p>Conn, on his feet, flung his arms around an upright stanchion and hung +on. Fred's hand gave a twisting jerk on the steering handle; the +<i>Goblin</i> went corkscrewing upward. In the rearview screen, Conn saw a +pink fireball blossom far below. The sound and the shock-wave never +reached them; the <i>Goblin</i> outran them. <i>Dragon</i> and <i>Vampire</i> were +spiraling away in opposite directions. The radio was loud with voices, +and a few of the words were almost printable. A gong began clanging +from the command post on top of the mesa on the mainland.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, all of you!" Klem Zareff was bellowing. "And get back from +there. Back three or four miles; close enough so they won't dare use +thermonuclears. Take cover behind one of those ridges, where they +can't detect you. Then we can start figuring what the Gehenna to do +next."</p> + +<p>That made sense. And get it settled who's in command of this +Donnybrook, while we're at it, Conn thought. He looked into the rear +and sideview screens, and taking cover immediately made even more +sense. Two more fireballs blossomed, one dangerously close to the +<i>Dragon</i>. Guns were firing from the mountaintop, too, big ones, +and shells were bursting close to them. He saw a shell land on and +another beside one of the enemy gun positions—115-mm's from the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span><i>Lester Dawes</i>, he supposed. He continued to cling to the +stanchion, and the <i>Goblin</i> shot straight up, and he was expecting +to see the sky blacken and the stars come out when the gunboat leveled +and started circling down again. The mountainside, he saw, was sending +up a lightning-crackling tower of smoke and dust that swelled into a +mushroom top.</p> + +<p>Klem Zareff, on the radio, was demanding to know who'd launched that.</p> + +<p>"We did, sir; <i>Dragon</i>," Stefan Jorisson was replying. "We had to get +rid of it. We took a hit. Gun turret's smashed, Milt Hennant's dead, +and Abe Samuels probably will be before I'm done talking, and if we +get this crate down in one piece, it'll do for a miracle till a real +one happens."</p> + +<p>"Well, be careful how you shoot those things off," his father +implored, from the <i>Lester Dawes</i>. "Get one inside the crater and we +won't have any spaceport."</p> + +<p>The <i>Lester Dawes</i> vanished behind a mountain range a few miles from +the volcano. The <i>Dragon</i>, still airborne but in obvious difficulties, +was limping after her, and the <i>Vampire</i> was covering the withdrawal, +firing rapidly but with doubtful effect with her single 90-mm and +tossing out counter-missiles. There was another fireball between her +and the mountain. Then, when the <i>Dragon</i> had followed the <i>Lester +Dawes</i> to safety, she turned tail and bolted, the <i>Goblin</i> following. +As they approached the mountains, something the shape of a recon-car +and about half the size passed them going in the opposite direction. +As they dropped into the chasm on the other side, another nuclear went +off at the volcano.</p> + +<p>When Conn and Fred left the <i>Goblin</i> and boarded the ship, they found +Rodney Maxwell, Captain Poole, and a couple of others on the bridge. +Charley Gatworth, the skipper of the <i>Vampire</i>, Morgan Gatworth's son, +was with them, and, imaged in a screen, so was Klem Zareff. One of the +other screens, from a pickup on the <i>Vampire</i>, showed the <i>Dragon</i> +lying on her side, her turret crushed and her gun, with the +muzzle-brake gone, bent upward. A couple of lorries from the <i>Lester +Dawes</i> were alongside; as Conn watched, a blanket-wrapped body, and +then another, were lowered from the disabled gunboat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fred, how are you and Charley fixed for counter-missiles?" Zareff was +asking. "Get loaded up with them off the ship, as many as you can +carry. Charley, you go up on top of this ridge above, and take cover +where you can watch the mountain. Transmit what you see back to the +ship. Fred, you take a position about a quarter way around from where +you are now. Don't let them send anything over, but don't start +anything yourselves. I'm coming out with everything I can gather up +here; I'll be along myself in a couple of hours, and the rest will be +stringing in after me. In the meantime, Rodney, you're in command."</p> + +<p>Well, that settled that. There was one other point, though.</p> + +<p>"Colonel," Conn said, "I assume that this spaceport is occupied by one +of these new prospecting companies. We have no right to take it away +from them, have we?"</p> + +<p>"They fired on us without warning," Karski said. "They killed Milt, +and it's ten to one Abe won't live either. We owe them something for +that."</p> + +<p>"We do, and we'll pay off. Conn, you assume wrong. This gang's been at +the spaceport long enough to get the detection system working and put +the defense batteries on ready. They didn't do that since this +morning, and up to last evening they neglected to file claim. I'll +assume they're on the wrong side of the law. They're outlaws, Conn. +All the raids along the east coast; everybody's blamed them on the +Badlands gangs. I'll admit they're responsible for some of it, but +I'll bet this gang at the spaceport is doing most of it."</p> + +<p>That was reasonable. Barathrum was closer to the scene of the worst +outlaw depredations than the Badlands, not more than an hour at Mach +Two. And nobody ever thought of Barathrum as an outlaw hangout. People +rarely thought of Barathrum at all. He liked the idea. The only thing +against it was that he wanted so badly to believe it.</p> + +<p>They brought the body of Milt Hennant aboard, and Abe Samuels, swathed +in bandages and immobilized by narcotic injections. A few more of the +<i>Dragon</i>'s six-man crew had been injured. Jorrisson, the skipper, had +one trouser leg slit to the belt and his right thigh splinted and +bandaged; he took over the <i>Lester Dawes</i>' missile controls, which he +could manage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> sitting in one place. Fred Karski and Charley Gatworth +went aboard their craft and lifted out.</p> + +<p>For a long time, nothing happened. Conn got out the plans of the +volcano spaceport and the photomaps of the surrounding area. The +principal entrance, the front door of the spaceport, was the crater of +the extinct volcano itself. It was ringed, outside, with +launching-sites and gun positions, and according to the data he had, +some of the guns were as big as 250-mm. How many outlaws there were to +man them was a question a lot of people could get killed trying to +answer. The ship docks and shops were down on the level of the crater +floor, in caverns, both natural and excavated, that extended far back +into the mountain. There were two galleries, one above the other, +extending entirely around the inside of the crater near the top; +passages from them gave access to the outside gun and missile +positions.</p> + +<p>With a dozen ships the size of the <i>Lester Dawes</i>, about five thousand +men, and a CO who wasn't concerned with trivialities like casualties, +they could have taken the place in half an hour. With what they had, +trying to fight their way in at the top was out of the question.</p> + +<p>There was another way in. He had known about it from the beginning, +and he was trying desperately to think of a way not to utilize it. It +was a tunnel two miles long, running into some of the bottom workshops +and storerooms back of the ship berths from a big blowhole or small +crater at the foot of the mountain. According to the fifty-year-old +plans, it was big enough to take a gunboat in, and on paper it looked +like a royal highway straight to the heart of the enemy's stronghold.</p> + +<p>To Conn, it looked like a wonderful place to commit suicide. He'd only +had a short introductory course, in one semester, in military and +protective robotics, just enough to give him a foundation if he wanted +to go into that branch of the subject later. It was also enough to +give him an idea of the sort of booby-traps that tunnel could be +filled with. He knew what he'd have put into it if he'd been defending +that place.</p> + +<p>Colonel Zareff had sent one last message from Force<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> Command when he +lifted off with a flight of recon-cars. After that, he maintained a +communication blackout. It was an hour and a half before he got close +enough to be detected from the outlaw stronghold. Immediately, the +volcano began spewing out missiles. Poole hastily took the <i>Lester +Dawes</i> ten miles down the rift-valley in sixty seconds, while Stefan +Jorisson put out a nuclear-warhead missile and left it circling about +where the ship had been. From their respective positions, Fred Karski +and Charley Gatworth filled the airspace midway to the volcano with +counter-missiles, each loaded with four rockets. There were +explosions, fireballs in the air and rising cumulus clouds of +varicolored smoke and dust. Only about half the enemy missiles reached +the <i>Lester Dawes'</i> former position.</p> + +<p>When their controllers, back at the volcano, couldn't see the ship in +their screens, the missiles bunched together. Immediately, Jorisson +sent his missile up to join them and detonated it. Including his own, +eight nuclear weapons went off together in a single blast that shook +the ground like an earthquake and churned the air like a hurricane. +Klem Zareff came on-screen at once.</p> + +<p>"Now what did you do?" he demanded. "Blew the whole place up, didn't +you?"</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell told him. Zareff laughed. "They might just think they +got the ship; all the pickups would be smashed before they could see +what really happened. You're about ten miles south of that? Be with +you in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>They got a screen on for his rearview pickup. Zareff had with him a +dozen recon-cars, some of them under robo-control; six gunboats +followed, and behind them, to the horizon, other craft were strung +out—airboats, troop carriers, and freight-scows. They could see enemy +missiles approaching in Zareff's front screen; counter-missiles got +most of them, and a couple of pilotless recon-cars were sacrificed. +The <i>Lester Dawes</i> blasted more missiles as they crossed the top of +the mountain range. Then Zareff's car was circling in and entering at +one of the ship's open cargo-ports. Zareff and Anse Dawes got out.</p> + +<p>"Gunboats are only half an hour behind," Zareff said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> "Get some +screens on to them, Anse; you know the combinations. Now let's see +what kind of a mess we're in here."</p> + +<p>It was almost a miracle, the way the tottering old man Conn had seen +on the dock at Litchfield when he had arrived from Terra had been +rejuvenated.</p> + +<p>The rest of the reinforcements arrived slowly, sending missiles and +counter-missiles out ahead of them. Zareff began worrying about the +supply; the enemy didn't seem to be running short. By 1300—Conn noted +the time incredulously; the battle seemed to have been going on +forever, instead of just four hours—the <i>Lester Dawes</i> had moved +halfway around the volcano and was almost due west of it, and the +eight gunboats were spaced all around the perimeter. Then one stopped +transmitting; in the other screens, there was a rising fireball where +she had been. The radio was loud with verbal reports.</p> + +<p>"<i>Poltergeist</i>," Zareff said, naming half a dozen names. One or two of +them had been schoolmates of Conn's at the Academy; he knew how he'd +feel about it later, but now it simply didn't register.</p> + +<p>"They're launching missiles faster than we can shoot them down," he +said.</p> + +<p>"That's usually the beginning of the end," Zareff said. "I saw it +happen too often during the War. We've got to get inside that place. +It's a lot of harmless fun to send contragravity robots out to smash +each other, but it doesn't win battles. Battles are won by men, +standing with their feet on the ground, using personal weapons."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to win this one pretty soon," Rodney Maxwell said. "The +amount of nuclear energy we've been releasing will be detectable +anywhere on the planet by now. The Government has a ship like the +<i>Lester Dawes</i> in commission; if this keeps on, she'll be coming out +for a look."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll have help," Captain Poole said.</p> + +<p>"We need Government help like we need the polka-dot fever," Rodney +Maxwell said. "If they get in it, they'll claim the spaceport +themselves, and we'll have fought a battle for nothing."</p> + +<p>Well, that was it, then. The spaceport was essential to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> Maxwell +Plan. He'd gotten seven men killed—eight, if the recon-car that was +taking Abe Samuels to the hospital in Litchfield didn't make it in +time—and it was up to him to see that they hadn't died for nothing. +He spread the photo-map and the spaceport plans on the chart table.</p> + +<p>"Look at this," he said.</p> + +<p>Klem Zareff looked at it. He didn't like it any better than Conn had. +He studied the plan for a moment, chewing his cigar.</p> + +<p>"You know, it's possible they don't know that thing exists," he said, +without too much conviction. "You'll be betting the lives of at least +twenty men; fewer than that couldn't accomplish anything."</p> + +<p>"I'll be putting mine on the table along with them," Conn said. "I'll +lead them in."</p> + +<p>He was wishing he hadn't had to say that. He did, though. It was the +only thing he could say.</p> + +<p>"You better pick the men to go with me, Colonel," he continued. "You +know them better than I do. We'll need working equipment, too; I have +no idea what we may have to take out of the way, inside."</p> + +<p>"I won't call for volunteers," Zareff said. "I'll pick Home Guards; +they did their volunteering when they joined."</p> + +<p>"Let me pick one man, Colonel," Anse Dawes said. "I'll pick me."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<p>They sent a snooper in first; it picked up faint radiation leakage +from inactive power units of overhead lights, and nothing else. The +tunnel stretched ahead of it, empty, and dark beyond its infrared +vision. After it had gone a mile without triggering anything, the jeep +followed, Anse Dawes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> piloting and Conn at the snooper controls +watching what it transmitted back. The two lorries followed, loaded +with men and equipment, and another jeep brought up the rear. They had +cut screen-and-radio communication with the outside; they weren't even +using inter-vehicle communication.</p> + +<p>At length, the snooper emerged into a big cavern, swinging slowly to +scan it. The walls and ceiling were rough and irregular; it was +natural instead of excavated. Only the floor had been leveled smooth. +There were a lot of things in it, machinery and vehicles, all battered +and in poor condition, dusty and cobwebbed: the spaceport junkheap. A +passage, still large enough for one of the gunboats, led deeper into +the mountain toward the crater. They sent the snooper in and, after a +while, followed.</p> + +<p>They came to other rectangular, excavated caverns. On the plans, they +were marked as storerooms. Cases and crates, indeterminate shrouded +objects; some had never been disturbed, but here and there they found +evidence of recent investigation.</p> + +<p>Beyond was another passage, almost as wide as the Mall in Litchfield; +even the <i>Lester Dawes</i> could have negotiated it. According to the +plans, it ran straight out to the ship docks and the open crater +beyond. Anse turned the jeep into a side passage, and Conn recalled +the snooper and sent it ahead. On the plan, it led to another natural +cavern, half its width shown as level with the entrance. The other +half was a pit, marked as sixty feet deep; above this and just under +the ceiling, several passages branched out in different directions.</p> + +<p>The snooper reported visible light ahead; fluoroelectric light from +one of the upper passages, and firelight from the pit. The +air-analyzer reported woodsmoke and a faint odor of burning oil. He +sent the snooper ahead, tilting it to look down into the pit.</p> + +<p>A small fire was burning in the center; around it, in a circle, some +hundred and fifty people, including a few women and children, sat, +squatted or reclined. A low hum of voices came out of the soundbox.</p> + +<p>"Who the blazes are they?" Anse whispered. "I can't see any way they +could have gotten down there."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were in rags, and they weren't armed; there wasn't so much as a +knife or a pistol among them. Conn motioned the lorries and the other +jeep forward.</p> + +<p>"Prisoners," he said. "I think they were hauled down here on a scow, +shoved off, and left when the fighting started. Cover me," he told the +men in the lorries. "I'm going down and talk to them."</p> + +<p>Somebody below must have heard something. As Anse took the jeep over +and started floating it down, the circle around the fire began moving, +the women and children being pushed to the rear and the men gathering +up clubs and other chance weapons. By the time the jeep grounded, the +men in the pit were standing defensively in front of the women and +children.</p> + +<p>They were all dirty and ragged; the men were unshaven. There was a +tall man with a grizzled beard, in greasy coveralls; another man with +a black beard and an old Space Navy uniform, his head bandaged with a +dirty and blood-caked rag; another in the same uniform, wearing a cap +on which the Terran Federation insignia had been replaced by the +emblem of Transcontinent & Overseas Shiplines and the words <span class="smcap">CHIEF +ENGINEER</span>. And beside the tall man with the gray beard, was a girl +in baggy trousers and a torn smock. Like the others, she was dirty, +but in spite of the rags and filth, Conn saw that she was beautiful. +Black hair, dark eyes, an impudently tilted nose.</p> + +<p>They all looked at him in hostility that gradually changed to +perplexity and then hope.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" the tall man with the gray beard asked. "You're none of +this gang here."</p> + +<p>"Litchfield Exploration & Salvage; I'm Conn Maxwell."</p> + +<p>That meant nothing; none of them had been near a news-screen lately.</p> + +<p>"What's going on topside?" the man with the bandaged head and the four +stripes on his sleeve asked. "There was firing, artillery and +nuclears, and they herded us down here. Have you cleaned the bloody +murderers out?"</p> + +<p>"We're working on it," Conn said. "I take it they aren't friends of +yours?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>Foolish Question of the Year; they all made that evident.</p> + +<p>"They took my ship; they murdered my first officer and half my crew +and passengers...."</p> + +<p>"They burned our home and killed our servants," the girl said. "They +kidnapped my father and me...."</p> + +<p>"They've been keeping us here as slaves."</p> + +<p>"It's the Blackie Perales gang," the tall man with the gray beard +said. "They've been making us work for them, converting a blasted tub +of a contragravity ship into a spacecraft. I beg your pardon, Captain +Nichols; she was a fine ship—for her intended purpose."</p> + +<p>"You're Captain Nichols?" Anse Dawes exclaimed. "Of the <i>Harriet +Barne</i>?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. The <i>Harriet Barne's</i> here; they've been making us work +on her, to convert her to an interplanetary craft, of all idiotic +things."</p> + +<p>"My name's Yves Jacquemont," the man with the gray beard said. "I'm a +retired hyperspace maintenance engineer; I had a little business at +Waterville, buying, selling and rebuilding agricultural machinery. +This gang found out about me; they raided and burned our village and +carried me and my daughter, Sylvie, away. We've been working for them +for the last four months, tearing Captain Nichols' ship down and +armoring her with collapsium."</p> + +<p>"How many pirates are there here?"</p> + +<p>That started an argument. Nobody was quite sure; two hundred and fifty +seemed to be the highest estimate, which Conn decided to play safe by +accepting.</p> + +<p>"You get us out of here," Yves Jacquemont was saying. "All we want is +a chance at them."</p> + +<p>"How about arms? You can't do much with clubs and fists."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about that; we know where to get arms. The treasure +house, where they store their loot. There's plenty of arms and +ammunition, and anything else you can think of. They've used us to +help stow the stuff; we know where it is."</p> + +<p>"Anse, you remember those scows we saw, in the big room before we came +to the broad passage? Take four men in the jeep; have them lift two of +them and bring them here. Then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> you get out to the end of the tunnel +and call the <i>Lester Dawes</i>. Tell them what's happened, tell them they +can get gunboats all the way in, and wait to guide them when they +arrive."</p> + +<p>When Anse turned and climbed into the jeep, he asked Yves Jacquemont: +"Why does this Perales want an interplanetary ship?"</p> + +<p>"He's crazy!" Jacquemont swore. "Paranoid; megalomaniac. He talks of +organizing all the pirates and outlaws on the planet into one band and +making himself king. He's heard that there are Space Navy superweapons +on Koshchei—I suppose there are, at that—and he wants to get a lot +of planetbusters and hellburners and annihilators." He lowered his +voice. "Captain Nichols and I were going to fix up something that'd +blow the <i>Harriet Barne</i> up as soon as he got her out of atmosphere."</p> + +<p>He talked for a while to Jacquemont and his daughter Sylvie, and to +Nichols and the chief engineer, whose name was Vibart. There was +evidently nothing else at the spaceport of which a spaceship could be +built, but there were foundries and rolling-mills and a +collapsed-matter producer. The <i>Harriet Barne</i> was gutted, half torn +down, and half armored with new collapsium-plated sheet steel. It +might be possible to continue the work on her and take her to space.</p> + +<p>Then the two scows floated over the top of the pit and began letting +down. They got the prisoners into them, the combat-effective men in +one and the women and children in the other. At the top, he took over +the remaining jeep, getting Jacquemont, his daughter, and the two +contragravityship officers in with him.</p> + +<p>"Up to the top," Jacquemont said. "Take the middle passage, and turn +right at the next intersection."</p> + +<p>As they approached the section where the pirates stored their loot, +the sound of guns and explosions grew louder, and they began picking +up radio and screen signals, all of which were scrambled and +incomprehensible. The pirates, in different positions, talking among +themselves. With all that, it ought to be safe to use their own +communication equipment; nobody would notice it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>The treasure room looked like a giant pack rat's nest. Cases and +crates of merchandise, bales, boxes, barrels. Machinery. Household and +industrial robots. The prisoners piled out of the two scows and began +rummaging. Somebody found a case of cigarettes and smashed it open; in +a moment, cartons were being tossed around and opened, and everybody +was smoking. The pirates evidently hadn't issued any tobacco rations +to their prisoners.</p> + +<p>And they found arms and ammunition, began ripping open cases, handing +out rifles, pistols, submachine guns. The prisoners grabbed them even +more hungrily than the cigarettes. Sylvie Jacquemont took charge of +the ammunition; she had three men opening boxes for her, while she +passed out boxes of cartridges and made sure that everybody had +ammunition to fit their weapons. A ragged man who might have been a +farm-tramp or a rich planter before his capture had gotten a bale of +cloth open and was tossing rags around while the chief engineer +inspected weapons and showed people how to clean out the cosmoline and +fill their spare magazines.</p> + +<p>Conn collected a few of his own party.</p> + +<p>"Let's look these robots over," he said. "Find about half a dozen we +can load with blasting explosive and send ahead of us on +contragravity."</p> + +<p>They found several—an electric-light servicer, a couple of +wall-and-window washers, a serving-robot that looked as if it had come +from a restaurant, and an all-purpose robo-janitor. In the passage +outside, they began loading the lorries with bricks of ionite and +packages of cataclysmite, packing all the scrap-iron and other junk +around the explosives that they could. As soon as they had weapons, +the prisoners came swarming out, making more noise than was necessary +and a good deal more than was safe. Sylvie Jacquemont, with a +submachine gun slung from one shoulder and a canvas bag of spare +magazines from the other, came over to see what he was doing.</p> + +<p>"Well, look what you're doing to him!" she mock-reproached. "That's a +dirty trick to play on a little robot!"</p> + +<p>He grinned at her. "You and my mother would get along. She always +treats robots like people."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, they are, sort of. They aren't alive—at least, I don't think +they are—but they do what you tell them, and they learn tricks, and +they have personalities."</p> + +<p>That was true. He didn't think robots were alive, either, though +biophysics professors tended to become glibly evasive when pinned down +to defining life. Robots could learn, if you used the term loosely +enough. And any robot with more than five hundred hours service picked +up a definite and often exasperating personality.</p> + +<p>"I've been working with them, and tearing them down and fixing them, +ever since I was in pigtails," she added.</p> + +<p>The half-dozen natural leaders among the prisoners—Jacquemont and his +daughter, the two <i>Harriet Barne</i> officers, and a couple of +others—bent over the photoprinted plans Conn had, located their +position, and told him as much as they could about what lay ahead. +Sylvie Jacquemont could handle robots; she would ride in the front +seat of the jeep while he piloted. Vibart, the chief engineer, and +Yves Jacquemont would ride behind. Nichols would ride in the scow with +the fighting men. One lorry of his own party would follow the jeep; +the other would bring up the rear.</p> + +<p>He snapped on the screen and punched the ship combination. Stefan +Jorisson appeared in it.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Conn! You all right?" He raised his voice. "Conn's on-screen!"</p> + +<p>His father appeared at Jorisson's shoulder and, a moment later, Klem +Zareff.</p> + +<p>"Well, we're in, all right," he said. "We just picked up an army, +too." He swung the jeep to get the crowd in the pickup, explaining who +they were. "Did you hear from Anse?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he just screened in," Rodney Maxwell said. "He said a gunboat +can get in."</p> + +<p>"That's right; clear into the crater."</p> + +<p>"Well, we're going to put three of them inside," Zareff told him. +"<i>Werewolf</i>, <i>Zombi</i>, and <i>Dero</i>. And a troop carrier with fifty men; +flamethrowers, portable machine guns, bomb-launchers; regular +special-weapons section. What can you do where you are?"</p> + +<p>"Here? Nothing. We're going to work around to the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> side of the +crater, and then find a vertical shaft and go up topside and make as +much disturbance as we can."</p> + +<p>"That's it!" Zareff approved. "Pull them off balance; as soon as we +get in, we'll go straight to the top. Look for us in about an hour; +it's going to take time getting to the tunnel-mouth without being +spotted from above."</p> + +<p>He lifted the jeep and started off; the lorry, and the scows and the +other lorry, followed; the snooper and the bomb-robots went ahead like +a pack of hunting dogs. They went through great chambers, dark and +silent and bulking with dusty machines. Jacquemont explained that the +prisoners had never gotten into this section; the <i>Harriet Barne</i> was +a mile or so to their right. Conn turned left, when the noise of +firing from outside became plainer. A foundry. A machine-shop which +seemed to have been abandoned in the middle of some rush job that +hadn't really been necessary. They came to a place even the snooper +couldn't enter, choked to the ceiling with dead vegetation, hydroponic +seed-plants that had been left untended to grow wild and die. They +emerged into outside light, in vast caves a mile high and open onto +the crater, and looked across the floor that had been leveled and +vitrified to the other side, three and a half miles away.</p> + +<p>He didn't know whether to be more awed by the original eruption that +had formed the crater or by the engineering feat of carving these +docks and ship-berths, big enough for the hugest hyperspaceship, into +it.</p> + +<p>At first, he had been afraid of getting into position too soon before +the task force from outside could profit by the diversion. Then he +began to worry about the time it was taking to get halfway around the +crater. He could hear artillery thundering continuously above. Except +at the very beginning of the battle, there had been little gunfire. He +wondered if both sides were running out of lift-and-drive missiles, or +if the fighting had gotten too close for anybody to risk using nuclear +weapons.</p> + +<p>He was also worrying about the women and children among the released +prisoners.</p> + +<p>"Why did the pirates bother with them?" he asked Sylvie.</p> + +<p>"They used the women and some of the old men to do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> housekeeping +chores for them," she said. "Mostly, though, they were hostages; if +the men didn't work, Perales threatened to punish the women and +children. I wasn't doing any housework; I'm too good a mechanic. I was +helping on the ship."</p> + +<p>"Well, what'll I do with them when the fighting starts? I can't take +them into battle."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to; it'll be the safest place for them. You can't leave +them anywhere and risk having them recaptured."</p> + +<p>"That means we'll have to detach some men to cover them, and that'll +cut our striking force down." He whistled at the sound-pickup of his +screen and told his father about it. "What do I do with these people, +anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"You're the officer in command, Conn," his father told him. "Your +decision. How soon can you attack? We're almost through to the +crater."</p> + +<p>"There's a vertical shaft right above us, and a lot of noise at the +top. We'll send up a couple of bomb-robots to clear things at the +shaft-head and follow with everything we have."</p> + +<p>"Noncombatants and all?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "Only thing we can do." An old quotation occurred to him. +"'If you want to make an omelet, you have to break eggs.'"</p> + +<p>He wondered who'd said that in the first place. One of the old +Pre-Atomic conquerors; maybe Hitler. No, Hitler would have said, "If +you want to make sauerkraut, you have to chop cabbage." Maybe it was +Caesar.</p> + +<p>"We'd better send Gumshoe Gus up, first," Sylvie suggested.</p> + +<p>"You handle him. Take a quick look around, and then pull him back. +We'll need him later." It was the first time he'd ever caught himself +calling a robot "him," instead of "it." He thought for a second, and +added: "Give your father and Mr. Vibart the controls for the two +window-washers; you handle the snooper."</p> + +<p>He gave more instructions: Yves Jacquemont to turn his bomb-robot +right, Vibart to turn his left; the two lorries to follow the jeep up +the shaft, the scows to follow. Then he leaned back and looked at the +screens that had been rigged under the top of the jeep. A circle of +light appeared in one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> growing larger and brighter as the snooper +approached the top of the shaft; two more came on as the bomb-robots +followed.</p> + +<p>"All right; follow me," he said into the inter-vehicle radio, and +started the jeep slowly up the shaft.</p> + +<p>The snooper popped out of the shaft, onto a gallery that had been cut +into the solid rock, fifty feet high and a hundred and fifty across, +with a low parapet on the outside and the mile-deep crater beyond. +There were a few grounded aircars and lorries in sight, and a medium +airboat rested a hundred or so feet on the right of the shaft-opening. +Fifteen or twenty men were clustered around it, with a lifter loaded +with ammunition. They looked like any crowd of farm-tramps. Suddenly, +one of them saw the snooper, gave a yell, and fired at it with a +rifle. Sylvie pulled it back into the shaft; her father and the chief +engineer sent the two bomb-robots up onto the gallery. The right-hand +robot sped at the airboat; the last thing Conn saw in its screen was a +face, bearded and villainous and contorted with fright, looking out +the pilot's window of the airboat. Then it went dead, and there was a +roar from above. On the other side, several men were firing straight +at the pickup of the other robot; it went dead, too, and there was a +second explosion.</p> + +<p>In the communication screen, somebody was yelling, "Give them another +one for Milt Hennant!" and his father was urging him to get in fast, +before they recovered.</p> + +<p>In peace or war, screen communication was a wonderful thing. The only +trouble was that it let in too many kibitzers.</p> + +<p>The gallery, when the jeep emerged onto it, was empty except for +casualties, a few still alive. The side of the airboat was caved in; +the lifter-load of ammunition had gone up with the bomb. He moved the +jeep to the right of the shaft and waited for the vehicles behind him, +suffering a brief indecision.</p> + +<p class='poem'><i>Never divide your force in the presence of the enemy.</i></p> + +<p>There had been generals who had done that and gotten away with it, but +they'd had names like Foxx Travis and Robert E. Lee and +Napoleon—Napoleon; that was who'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> made that crack about omelets! +They'd known what they were doing. He was playing this battle by ear.</p> + +<p>There was a lot of shouting ahead to the right. That meant live +pirates, a deplorable situation which ought to be corrected at once. +The communication screen was noisy, now; his father had gotten to the +top gallery with the three gun cutters, and was meeting resistance. He +formed his column, his jeep and one of the lorries in front, the scows +next, and the second lorry behind, and started around the gallery +counterclockwise, the snoopers and the three remaining bomb-robots +ahead. They began running into resistance almost at once.</p> + +<p>Bullets spatted on the armor glass in front of him, spalling it and +blotching it with metal until he found that he could steer better by +the show-back of his view-pickup. He used that until the pickup was +shot out. Then his father began wanting to know, from the +communication screen, what was going on and where he was. A bomb or +something went off directly under the jeep, bouncing it almost to the +ceiling; he found that it was impossible to lift it again after it +settled to the floor of the gallery, and they all piled out to fight +on foot. Sommers and his gang from the number one lorry were also +afoot; their vehicle had been disabled. He saw them lifting wounded +into one of the scows.</p> + +<p>They blew up the light-service robot to clear a nest of pirates who +had taken cover ahead of them. They sent the robo-janitor up a side +passage and exploded it in a missile-launching position on the outside +of the mountain; that produced a tremendous explosion. They began +running out of cartridges, and had to stop and glean more from enemy +casualties. They expended their last bomb-robot, the restaurant +server, to break up another pirate resistance point.</p> + +<p>At length he found himself, with Sylvie and her father and one of the +Home Guardsmen from Sommers' lorry, lying behind an aircar somebody +had knocked out with a bazooka, with two dead pirates for company and +a dozen distressingly live ones ahead behind an improvised barricade. +Behind, there was frantic firing; the rear-guard seemed to have run +into trouble, probably from some gang that had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> come down from the +upper level. He wondered what his father was doing with the gunboats; +since abandoning the jeep, he had lost his only means of contact.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, the men in front jumped up from their barricade and came +running toward him. Been reinforced, now they're counterattacking. His +rifle was empty; he drew his pistol and shot one of them, and then he +saw that they were throwing up their hands and yelling for quarter. +This was something new.</p> + +<p>He looked around quickly, to make sure none of the liberated prisoners +except Jacquemont and his daughter were around, and then called to a +couple of his own men to come up and help him. While they were +relieving the pirates of their pistol belts and cartridge bandoliers, +more came up, their hands over their heads, herded by a combat car +from which Tom Brangwyn covered them with a pair of 12-mm machine +guns. Tom hadn't put in an appearance before he had taken his commando +force into the tunnel; he hadn't even known the chief of Company +Police was on Barathrum.</p> + +<p>"Well, nice seeing you," he greeted. "How did you get in?"</p> + +<p>"Over the top," Brangwyn told him. "Everything's caved in on the other +side. We have a quarter of the top gallery, and half of this one. Your +father's cleaning up above. Klem's got some men working along the +outside."</p> + +<p>Sylvie was tugging at his arm. "Hey, look! Look at that!" she was +clamoring. "Who's she belong to?"</p> + +<p>He looked; the <i>Lester Dawes</i> was coming over the edge of the crater.</p> + +<p>"She's ours," he said. "It's all over but the mopping up. And counting +the egg breakage."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<p>The shooting died down to occasional rattles of small arms, usually +followed by yells for quarter. An explosion thundered from across the +crater. The <i>Lester Dawes</i> fired her big guns a few times. A machine +gun stuttered. A pistol banged, far away. It took two hours before all +the pirates had been hunted out of hiding and captured, or killed if +found by their former captives, who were accepting no surrender +whatever.</p> + +<p>Blackie Perales had been one of the latter; he had been found, his +clothes in rags and covered with dirt and grease, hiding under a +machine in one of the shops back of the dock in which the <i>Harriet +Barne</i> was being rebuilt. He had tried to claim that he was one of the +pirates' prisoners who had eluded the roundup at the beginning of the +battle and had been hiding there since. As soon as the real prisoners +saw and recognized him, they had fallen upon him and clubbed, kicked +and stamped him out of any resemblance to humanity. At that, what he +got was probably only a fraction of what he deserved.</p> + +<p>The egg breakage had been heavy, and not at all confined to the bad +eggs. A third gunboat, the <i>Banshee</i>, had been destroyed with all +hands during the final attack from outside; in addition, a dozen men +had been killed during the fighting in the galleries. Everybody was +shocked, except Klem Zareff, who had been in battles before. He was +surprised that the casualties had been so light.</p> + +<p>At first glance, the spaceport looked like a handsome prize of +victory. The docks and workshops were all in good condition; at worst, +they only needed cleaning up. There was a collapsium plant, with its +own mass-energy converter. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> were foundries and machine-shops and +forging-shops and a rolling-mill, almost completely robotic. At first, +Conn thought that it might be possible to build a hyperdrive ship +here, without having to go to Koshchei at all.</p> + +<p>Closer examination disabused him of this hope. There was nothing of +which the framework of a ship could be built, and no way of producing +heavy structural steel. The rolling-mill was good enough to turn out +eighth-inch sheet material which when plated with a few micromicrons +of collapsium would be as good as a hundred feet of lead against +space-radiations, but that was the ship's skin. A ship needed a +skeleton, too. The only thing to do was go on with the <i>Harriet +Barne</i>.</p> + +<p>It was sunset before he finished his tour of inspection and let his +jeep down in a vehicle hall off the lower gallery outside what had +originally been the spaceport officers' club. It was crowded, and a +victory celebration seemed to be getting under way. He saw his father +with Yves Jacquemont, Sylvie, Tom Brangwyn, and Captain Nichols. +Nichols had gotten clean clothes from the pirates' store of loot, and +had bathed and shaved. So had Jacquemont, though he had contented +himself with trimming his beard. It took him a second or so to +recognize the young lady in feminine garb as his erstwhile battle +comrade, Sylvie.</p> + +<p>"Well, our pay goes on from the day we were captured," Nichols was +saying. "My instructions are to resume command of the ship. Tomorrow, +they're sending a party out to go over her."</p> + +<p>Conn stopped short. "What's this about the ship?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Nichols was in screen contact with his company's office in +Storisende," Rodney Maxwell said. "They're continuing him in command +of her."</p> + +<p>"But ... but we took that ship! We lost three gunboats and about +twenty-five men...."</p> + +<p>"She still belongs to Transcontinent & Overseas," his father said. +"That's been the law on stolen property as long as there's been any +law."</p> + +<p>Of course; he should have known that. Did know it; just didn't think.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We broke an awful lot of eggs for no omelet; fought a battle for +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course, I'm prejudiced," Sylvie said, "but I don't think +getting us out of the hands of that bloodthirsty maniac and his +cutthroats was nothing."</p> + +<p>"Wiping out the Perales gang wasn't nothing, Conn," Tom Brangwyn said. +"You got no idea at all how bad things were, the last couple of +years."</p> + +<p>"I know. I'm sorry." He was ashamed of himself. "But I needed a ship, +and now we have no ship at all."</p> + +<p>"A ship means something to you?" Yves Jacquemont asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes." He told him why. "If we could get to Koshchei, we could build a +hypership of our own, and get our brandy and things to markets where +we could get a decent price for them."</p> + +<p>"I know. I was in and out of Storisende on these owner-captain tramps +for a couple of years before I decided to retire and settle here," +Jacquemont said. "The profit on a cargo of Poictesme brandy on Terra +or Baldur is over a thousand percent."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't give up too soon," Nichols advised. "You can't keep the +<i>Harriet Barne</i>, of course, but you're entitled to prize-money on her, +and that ought to buy you something you could build a spaceship out +of."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Jacquemont said. "Everything else besides the frame +can be made here. Look, these pirates burned me out; except for the +money I have in the bank, I lost everything, home, business and all. +As soon as I can find a place for Sylvie to stay, I'll come back and +go to work for your company building a spaceship. And a lot of the men +who were working here are farm-tramps and drifters, one job's as good +as another as long as they get paid for it. And I know a few good men +in Storisende—engineers—who'd be glad for a job, too."</p> + +<p>"You think it would be all right with Mother and Flora if Sylvie +stayed with us?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course it would; they'd be glad to have her." Rodney Maxwell +turned to Yves Jacquemont. "Let's consider that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> fixed up. Now, +suppose you and I go into Storisende, and...."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The Transcontinent & Overseas people arrived at Barathrum Spaceport +the next morning; a rear-rank vice-president, a front-rank +legal-eagle, and three engineers. They were horrified at what they +saw. The <i>Harriet Barne</i> had been gutted. Bulkheads and decks had +been ripped out and relocated incomprehensibly; the bridge and the +control room under it were gone; she had been stripped to her framework, and +the whole underside was sheathed in shimmering collapsium.</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu!" the vice-president almost howled. "That isn't <i>our</i> +ship!"</p> + +<p>"That's the <i>Harriet Barne</i>," her captain said. "She looks a little +ragged now, but—"</p> + +<p>"You helped these pirates do this to her?"</p> + +<p>"If I hadn't, they'd have cut my throat and gotten somebody else to +help them. My throat's more valuable to me than the ship is to you; I +can't get anybody to build me a new one."</p> + +<p>"Well, understand," one of the engineers said, "they were converting +her into an interplanetary ship. It wouldn't cost much to finish the +job."</p> + +<p>"We need an interplanetary ship like we need a hole in the head!" The +vice-president turned to Rodney Maxwell. "Just how much prize-money do +you think you're entitled to for this wreck?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't know; that's up to Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong. Up to the +court, if we can settle it any other way."</p> + +<p>"You mean you'd litigate about this?" the lawyer demanded, and began +to laugh.</p> + +<p>"If we have to. Look, if you people don't want her, sign her over to +Litchfield Exploration & Salvage. But if you do want her, you'll have +to pay for her."</p> + +<p>"We'll give you twenty thousand sols," the lawyer said. "We don't want +to be tightfisted. After all, you fought a gang of pirates and lost +some men and a couple of boats; we have some moral obligation to you. +But you'll have to realize that this ship, in her present state, is +practically valueless."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The collapsium on her is worth twice that, and the engines are worth +even more," Jacquemont said. "I worked on them."</p> + +<p>The discussion ended there. By midafternoon, Luther Chen-Wong, the +junior partner of the law firm, arrived from Storisende with a couple +of engineers of his own. Reporters began arriving; both sides were +anxious to keep them away from the ship. Conn took care of them, +assisted by Sylvie, who had rummaged an even more attractive costume +out of what she called the loot-cellar. The reporters all used up a +lot of film footage on her. And the Fawzis' Office Gang arrived from +Force Command, bitterly critical of the value of the spaceport against +its cost in lives and equipment. Brangwyn and Zareff returned to Force +Command with them. A Planetary Air Patrol ship arrived and removed the +captured pirates. The liberated prisoners were airlifted to +Litchfield.</p> + +<p>The third day after the battle, Conn and his father and Sylvie and her +father flew to Litchfield. To Conn's surprise, Flora greeted him +cordially, and Wade Lucas, rather stiffly, congratulated him. Maybe it +was as Tom Brangwyn had said; he hadn't been on Poictesme in the last +four or five years and didn't know how bad things had gotten. His +mother seemed to think he had won the Battle of Barathrum +single-handed.</p> + +<p>He was even more surprised and gratified that Flora made friends with +Sylvie immediately. His mother, however, regarded the engineer's +daughter with badly concealed hostility, and seemed to doubt that +Sylvie was the kind of girl she wanted her son getting involved with. +Outwardly, of course, she was quite gracious.</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell and Yves Jacquemont flew to Storisende the next +morning, both more optimistic about finding a ship than Conn thought +the circumstances warranted. Conn stayed at home for the next few +days, luxuriating in idleness. He and Sylvie tore down his mother's +household robots and built sound-sensors into them, keying them to +respond to their names and to a few simple commands, and including +recorded-voice responses in a thick Sheshan accent. All the smart +people on Terra, he explained, had Sheshan humanoid servants.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>His mother was delighted. Robots that would answer when she spoke to +them were a lot more companionable. She didn't seem to think, however, +that Sylvie's mechanical skills were ladylike accomplishments. Nice +girls, Litchfield model, weren't quite so handy with a spot-welder. +That was what Conn liked about Sylvie; she was like the girls he'd +known at the University.</p> + +<p>They were strolling after dinner, down the Mall. The air was sharp and +warned that autumn had definitely arrived; the many brilliant stars, +almost as bright as the moon of Terra, were coming out in the dusk.</p> + +<p>"Conn, this thing about Merlin," she began. "Do you really believe in +it? Ever since Dad and I came to Poictesme, I've been hearing about +it, but it's just a story, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He was tempted to tell her the truth, and sternly put the temptation +behind him.</p> + +<p>"Of course there's a Merlin, Sylvie, and it's going to do wonderful +things when we find it."</p> + +<p>He looked down the starlit Mall ahead of him. Somebody, maybe Lester +Dawes and Morgan Gatworth and Lorenzo Menardes, had gotten things +finished and cleaned up. The pavement was smooth and unbroken; the +litter had vanished.</p> + +<p>"It's done wonderful things already, just because people started +looking for it," he said. "Some of these days, they're going to +realize that they had Merlin all along and didn't know it."</p> + +<p>There was a faint humming from somewhere ahead, and he was wondering +what it was. Then they came to the long escalators, and he saw that +they were running.</p> + +<p>"Why, look! They got them fixed! They're running!"</p> + +<p>Sylvie grinned at him and squeezed his arm.</p> + +<p>"I get you, chum," she said. "Of course there's a Merlin."</p> + +<p>Maybe he didn't have to tell her the truth.</p> + +<p>When they returned to the house, his mother greeted him:</p> + +<p>"Conn, your father's been trying to get you ever since you went out. +Call him, right away; Ritz-Gartner Hotel, in Storisende. It's +something about a ship."</p> + +<p>It look a little time to get his father on-screen. He was excited and +happy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hi, Conn; we have one," he said.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a ship?"</p> + +<p>"You know her. The <i>Harriet Barne</i>."</p> + +<p>That he hadn't expected. Something off Mothball Row that would have to +be flown to Barathrum and torn down and completely rebuilt, but not +the one that was there already, partly finished.</p> + +<p>"How the dickens did you wangle that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was Yves' idea, to start with. He knew about her; the T. & +O.'s been losing money on her for years. He said if they had to pay +prize-money on her and then either restore her to original condition +or finish the job and build a spaceship they didn't want, it would +almost bankrupt the company. They got up as high as fifty thousand +sols for prize-money and we just laughed at them. So we made a +proposition of our own.</p> + +<p>"We proposed organizing a new company, subsidiary to both L. E. & S. +and T. & O., to engage in interplanetary shipping; both companies to +assign their equity in the <i>Harriet Barne</i> to the new company, the +work of completing her to be done at our spaceport and the labor cost +to be shared. This would give us our spaceship, and get T. & O. off +the hook all around. Everybody was for it except the president of T. & +O. Know anything about him?"</p> + +<p>Conn shook his head. His father continued:</p> + +<p>"Name's Jethro Sastraman. He could play Scrooge in <i>Christmas Carol</i> +without any makeup at all. He hasn't had a new idea since he got out +of college, and that was while the War was still going on. +'Preposterous; utterly visionary and impractical,'" his father +mimicked. "Fortunately, a majority of the big stockholders didn't +agree; they finally bullied him into agreeing. We're calling the new +company Alpha-Interplanetary, we have an application for charter in, +and that'll go through almost automatically."</p> + +<p>"Who's going to be the president of this new company?"</p> + +<p>"You know him. Character named Rodney Maxwell. Yves is going to be +vice-president in charge of operations; he's flying to Barathrum +tomorrow or the next day with a gang of technicians we're recruiting. +T. & O. are giving us Clyde<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> Nichols and Mack Vibart, and a lot of men +from their shipyard. I'm staying here in Storisende; we're opening an +office here. By this time next week, we're all going to wish we'd been +born quintuplets."</p> + +<p>"And Conn Maxwell, I suppose, will be an influential +non-office-holding stockholder?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. Just like in L. E. & S."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<p>He found Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes and a score of workmen making a +survey and inventory of the spaceport. Captain Nichols and four of the +original crew of the <i>Harriet Barne</i>, who had shared his captivity +among the pirates, had stayed to take care of the ship. And Fred +Karski, with one gun-cutter and a couple of light airboats, was +keeping up a routine guard. All of them had heard about the formation +of Alpha-Interplanetary when Conn arrived.</p> + +<p>The next day, Yves Jacquemont arrived, accompanied by Mack Vibart, a +gang from the T. & O. shipyard, and a dozen engineers and construction +men whom he had recruited around Storisende. More workers arrived in +the next few days, including a number who had already worked on the +ship as slaves of the Perales gang.</p> + +<p>It didn't take Conn long to appreciate the problems involved in the +conversion. Built to operate only inside planetary atmosphere and +gravitation, the <i>Harriet Barne</i> was long and narrow, like an old +ocean ship; more than anything else, she had originally resembled a +huge submarine. Spaceships, either interplanetary or interstellar, +were always spherical with a pseudogravity system at the center. This, +of course, the <i>Harriet Barne</i> lacked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, are we going to make the whole trip in free fall?" he wanted to +know.</p> + +<p>"No, we'll use our acceleration for pseudograv halfway, and +deceleration the other half," Jacquemont told him. "We'll be in free +fall about ten or fifteen hours. What we're going to have to do will +be to lift off from Poictesme in the horizontal position the ship was +designed for, and then make a ninety-degree turn after we're +off-planet, with our lift and our drive working together, just like +one of the old rocket ships before the Abbott Drive was developed."</p> + +<p>That meant, of course, that the after bulkheads would become decks, +and explained a lot of the oddities he had noticed about the +conversion job. It meant that everything would have to be mounted on +gimbals, everything stowed so as to be secure in either position, and +nothing placed where it would be out of reach in either.</p> + +<p>Jacquemont and Nichols took charge of the work on the ship herself. +Chief Engineer Vibart, with a gang of half-taught, self-taught and +untaught helpers, went back to working the engines over, tearing out +all the safety devices that were intended to keep the ship inside +planetary atmosphere, and arranging the lift engines so that they +could be swung into line with the drive engines. There was a lot of +cybernetic and robotic equipment, and astrogational equipment, that +had to be made from scratch. Conn picked a couple of helpers and went +to work on that.</p> + +<p>From time to time, he was able to snatch a few minutes to read +teleprint papers or listen to audiovisual newscasts from Storisende. +He was always disappointed. There was much excitement about the new +interplanetary company, but the emphasis was all wrong. People weren't +interested in getting hyperships built, or opening the mines and +factories on Koshchei, or talking about all the things now in short +supply that could be produced there. They were talking about Merlin, +and they were all positive, now, that something found at Force Command +Duplicate had convinced Litchfield Exploration & Salvage that the +giant computer was somewhere off-planet.</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell flew in from Storisende; he was accompanied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> by Wade +Lucas, who shook hands cordially with Conn.</p> + +<p>"Can you spare us Jerry Rivas for a while?" Rodney Maxwell asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, ask Yves Jacquemont; he's vice-president in charge of +operations. As an influential non-office-holding stockholder, I'd +think so. He's only running around helping out here and there."</p> + +<p>"We want him to take charge of opening those hospitals you were +telling us about. Wade and I are forming a new company, Mainland +Medical Materials, Ltd. Going to act as broker for L. E. & S. in +getting rid of medical stores. Nobody in the company knows where to +sell that stuff or what we ought to get for it."</p> + +<p>Wade Lucas began to talk about how desperately some types of drug and +some varieties of diagnostic equipment were needed. Conn had it on the +tip of his tongue to ask Lucas whether he thought that was a racket, +too. Lucas must have read his mind.</p> + +<p>"I really didn't understand how much good this would do," he said. "I +wouldn't have spoken so forcefully against it if I had. I thought it +was nothing but this Merlin thing—"</p> + +<p>"Aaagh! Don't talk to me about Merlin!" Conn interrupted. "I have to +talk to Kurt Fawzi and that crowd about Merlin till I'm sick of the +whole subject."</p> + +<p>His father shot him a warning glance; Lucas was looking at him in +surprise. He hastened to change the subject:</p> + +<p>"I see Len made you a suit out of that material," he said to his +father. "And I see you're not bulging the coat out behind with a +hip-holster."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I stopped carrying a gun; I'm a city man, now. Nobody carries one +in Storisende. Won't even be necessary in Litchfield before long. Our +new marshal had a regular reign of terror in Tramptown for a few days, +and you wouldn't know the place. Wade, here, is acting mayor now."</p> + +<p>They went back to talking about the new company. "You're going to have +so many companies you won't be able to to keep track of them before +long," Conn said.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm doing something about that. A holding company;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> Trisystem +Investments, Ltd.; you're a non-office-holding stockholder in that, +too."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Merlin was now a political issue. A bill had been introduced in +Parliament to amend the Abandoned Property Act of 867 and nationalize +Merlin, when and if discovered and regardless by whom. The support +seemed to come from an extremist minority; everybody else, including +the Administration, was opposed to it. There was considerable +acrimony, however, on the propositions: 1) that Merlin was too +important to the prosperity of Poictesme to become a private monopoly; +and 2) that Merlin was too important, etc., to become a political +football and patronage plum.</p> + +<p>It was discovered, after they were half assembled, that the controls +for the <i>Harriet Barne</i> would only work while she was in a horizontal +position. The whole thing had to be torn out and rebuilt. There was +also trouble with the air-and-water recycling system. The <i>City of +Nefertiti</i> came in from Aton for Odin; Rodney Maxwell was almost +frantic because they hadn't gotten together a cargo of medical stores +from the first hospital to be opened.</p> + +<p>"There's all sorts of stuff," he was fuming, by screen. "Stuff that's +in short supply anywhere and that we could get good prices for +off-planet. Get Federation sols for it, too."</p> + +<p>"The <i>City of Asgard</i> will be along in six months," Conn said. "You +can have a real cargo assembled by then. You can make arrangements in +advance to dispose of it on Terra or Baldur or Marduk."</p> + +<p>"There are a couple of other companies interested in interplanetary +ships now," his father added. "One of them had gotten four old +freighters off Mothball Row, and they're tearing them down and +cannibalizing them into one spaceship. That work's being done here at +Storisende Spaceport. And another company has gotten title to a couple +of old office buildings and has a gang at work dismantling them for +the structural steel. I think they're going to build a real +spaceship."</p> + +<p>That wasn't anything to worry about either. The <i>Harriet Barne</i> was +better than half finished. There was a collapsium<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> plant at Storisende +Spaceport, but Yves Jacquemont said it was only half the size of the +one at Barathrum; it would be three months before it could produce +armor for one, let alone both, ships.</p> + +<p>The crackpots were getting into the act, now, too. A spirit medium on +the continent of Acaire, to the north, had produced a communication +purporting to originate with a deceased Third Force Staff officer, now +in the Spirit World. There was considerable detail, all ludicrous to +Conn's professional ear. And a fanatic in one of the small towns on +the west coast was quoting the Bible, the Koran, and the Bhagavadgita +to prove that if Merlin were ever found, Divine vengeance in a +spectacular form would fall not only on Poictesme but on the entire +Galaxy.</p> + +<p>The spaceship that was building at Storisende got into the news; +on-screen, it appeared that the work was progressing rapidly. So was +the work of demolishing a block of empty buildings to get girders for +the second ship, on which work had not yet been started. The one under +construction seemed to be of cruciform design, like an old-fashioned +pre-contragravity winged airplane. The design puzzled everybody at +Barathrum. Yves Jacquemont thought that perhaps there would be decks +in the cross-arm which would be used when the ship was running on +combined lift and drive.</p> + +<p>"Well, till we can get a shipyard going on Koshchei and build some +real spaceships, there are going to be some rare-looking objects +traveling around the Alpha System. I wonder what the next one's going +to look like—a flying sky-scraper?" Conn said.</p> + +<p>"What I wonder," Yves Jacquemont replied, "is where all the old +interplanetary ships got to. There must have been hundreds of them +running back and forth from here to Janicot and Koshchei and Jurgen +and Horvendile during the War. They must have gone somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't they all have been fitted with Dillingham hyperdrive +engines and used in the evacuation?"</p> + +<p>"Possible. But the average interplanetary ship isn't very big; five +hundred to seven-fifty feet in diameter. One of those things couldn't +carry more than a couple of hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> people, after you put in all the +supplies and the hydroponic tanks and carniculture vats and so on for +a four- to six-month voyage. I can't see the economy of altering +anything that small for interstellar work. Why, the smallest of these +tramp freighters that come in here will run about fifteen hundred +feet."</p> + +<p>They didn't just disintegrate when peace broke out, that was for sure. +And there certainly weren't any of them left on Poictesme. He puzzled +over it briefly, then shoved it aside. He had more important things to +think about.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>In his spare time he was studying, along with his other work, +everything he could find on Koshchei, with an intensity he had not +given to anything since cramming for examinations at the University. +There was a lot of it.</p> + +<p>The fourth planet of Alpha Gartner was older than Poictesme; +geologists claimed that it was the oldest thing, the sun excepted, in +the system, and astrophysicists were far from convinced that it hadn't +been captured from either Beta or Gamma when the three stars had been +much closer together. It had certainly been formed at a much higher +temperature than Janicot or Poictesme or Jurgen or Horvendile. For +better than a billion years, it had been molten-hot, and it had lost +most of its lighter elements in gaseous form along with its primary +atmosphere, leaving little to form a light-rock crust. All that had +remained had been a core of almost pure iron and a mantle that was +mostly high-grade iron ore.</p> + +<p>The same process had gone on, as it cooled, as on any Terra-size +planet. After the surface had started to congeal, gases, mostly carbon +dioxide and water vapor, had come up to form a secondary atmosphere, +the water vapor forming a cloud envelope, condensing, and sending down +rain that returned immediately as steam. Solar radiations and electric +discharges broke some of that into oxygen and hydrogen; most of the +hydrogen escaped into space. Finally, the surface cooled further and +the rain no longer steamed off.</p> + +<p>The whole planet started to rust. It had been rusting, slowly, for the +billion or so years that had followed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> almost all the free oxygen +had become locked in iron oxide. The air was almost pure carbon +dioxide. It would have been different if life had ever appeared on +Koshchei, but apparently the right amino acids never assembled. Some +attempts had been made to introduce vegetation after the colonization +of Poictesme, but they had all failed.</p> + +<p>Men went to Koshchei; they worked out of doors in oxygen helmets, and +lived in airtight domes and generated their own oxygen. There had been +mines, and smelters, and blast furnaces and steel mills. And there had +been shipyards, where hyperships up to three thousand feet had been +built. They had all been abandoned when the War had ended; they were +waiting there, on an empty, lifeless planet. Some of them had been +built by the Third Fleet-Army Force during the War; most of them dated +back almost a century before that, to the original industrial boom. +All of them could be claimed under the Abandoned Property Act of 867, +since all had been taken over by the Federation, and the original +owners, or their heirs, compensated.</p> + +<p>And there was the matter of selecting a crew. As an influential +non-office-holding stockholder in all the companies involved, Conn +Maxwell, of course, would represent them. He would also serve as +astrogator. Clyde Nichols would command the ship in atmosphere, and +act as first mate in space. Mack Vibart would be chief engineer at all +times. Yves Jacquemont would be first officer under Nichols, and +captain outside atmosphere. They had three real space crewmen, named +Roddell, Youtsko and O'Keefe, who had been in Storisende jail as a +result of a riotous binge when their ship had lifted out, six months +before. The rest of the company—Jerry Rivas, Anse Dawes, Charley +Gatworth, Mohammed Matsui, and four other engineers, Ludvyckson, +Gomez, Karanja and Retief—rated as ordinary spacemen for the trip, +and would do most of the exploration work after landing.</p> + +<p>They got the controls put up; they would work in either position. The +engines were lifted in and placed. Conn finished the robo-pilot and +the astrogational computers and saw them installed. The air-and-water +recycling system went in. The collapsium armor went on. In the +news-screen, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> saw the spaceship at Storisende still far from half +finished, with swarms of heavy-duty lifters and contragravity +machiners around it, and a set of landing-stands, on which the second +ship was to be built, in the process of construction.</p> + +<p>A tramp hyperspace freighter landed at Storisende, the <i>Andromeda</i>, +five months from Terra, with a cargo of general merchandise. Rodney +Maxwell and Wade Lucas had assembled a cargo of medicines and hospital +equipment which they thought could be sold profitably. They began +dickering with the owner-captain of the hypership.</p> + +<p>A farm-tramp down in the tobacco country to the south, evidently +ignorant that the former commander of the Third Force was still alive, +had proclaimed himself to be the reincarnation of Foxx Travis and was +forbidding everybody, on pain of court-martial and firing squad, from +meddling with Merlin. And an evangelist in the west was declaring that +Merlin was really Satan in mechanical shape.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The <i>Harriet Barne</i> was finished. The first test, lifting her to three +hundred miles, turning her bow-up, and taking her another thousand +miles, had been a success. They brought her back and set her down in +the middle of the crater, and began getting the supplies aboard. Kurt +Fawzi, Klem Zareff, Judge Ledue, Franz Veltrin and the others flew +over from Force Command. Sylvie Jacquemont came from Litchfield, and +so did Wade Lucas, Morgan Gatworth, Lester Dawes, Lorenzo Menardes and +a number of others. Neither Conn's mother nor sister came.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what's the matter with those two," Sylvie told him. +"They always seem to be scrapping with each other now, and the only +thing they can agree on is that you and your father ought to stop +whatever you're doing, right away. Your mother can't adjust to your +father being a big Storisende businessman, and she says he'll lose +every centisol he has and both of you will probably go to jail, and +then she's afraid you will find Merlin, and Flora's sure you and your +father are swindling everybody on the planet."</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, I had no idea things would be like that," he told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> her +contritely. "I wish I hadn't suggested that you stay there, now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't so bad, so far. Your mother and I get along all right +when Flora isn't there, and Flora and I get along when your mother +isn't around. Mealtimes aren't much fun, though."</p> + +<p>His father came out from Storisende, looked the ship over, and seemed +relieved.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're ready to get off," he said. "You know this hyperspace +freighter, the <i>Andromeda</i>? Some private group in Storisende has +chartered her. She's loading supplies now. I have a private detective +agency, Barton-Massarra, trying to find out where's she's going. I +think you'd better get this ship off, right away."</p> + +<p>"We have everything aboard, all the supplies and everything," +Jacquemont told him. "We can lift off tonight."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<p>The ship lurched slightly. In the outside screens, the lights around, +the crowd that was waving good-bye, and the floor of the crater began +receding. The sound pickups were full of cheering, and the boom of a +big gun at one of the top batteries, and the recorded and amplified +music of a band playing the traditional "Spacemen's Hymn."</p> + +<p>"It's been a long time since I heard that played in earnest," +Jacquemont said. "Well, we're off to see the Wizard."</p> + +<p>The lights dwindled and merged into a tiny circle in the darkness of +the crater. The music died away; the cannon shots became a faint +throbbing. Finally, there was silence, and only the stars above and +the dark land and the starlit sea below. After a long while a sunset +glow, six hours past on Barathrum, appeared in the west, behind the +now appreciable curvature of the planet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stand by for shift to vertical," Captain Nichols called, his voice +echoing from PA-outlets through the ship.</p> + +<p>"Ready for shift, Captain Nichols," Jacquemont reported from the +duplicate-control panel.</p> + +<p>Conn went to the after bulkhead, leaning his back against it. "Ready +here, Captain," he said.</p> + +<p>Other voices took it up. Lights winked on the control panels.</p> + +<p>"Shifting over," Nichols said. "Your ship now, Captain Jacquemont."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Nichols."</p> + +<p>The deck began to tilt, and then he was lying on his back, his feet +against the side of the control room, which had altered its shape and +dimensions. There was a jar as the drive went on in line with the new +direction of the lift and the ship began accelerating. He got to his +feet, and he and Charley Gatworth went to the astrogational computer +and began checking the data and setting the course for the point in +space at which Koshchei would be in a hundred and sixty hours.</p> + +<p>"Course set, Captain," he reported to Jacquemont, after a while.</p> + +<p>A couple of lights winked on the control panel. There was nothing more +to do but watch Poictesme dwindle behind, and listen to the newscasts, +and take turns talking to friends on the planet.</p> + +<p>They approached the halfway point; the acceleration rate decreased, +and the gravity indicator dropped, little by little. Everybody was +enjoying the new sense of lightness, romping and skylarking like newly +landed tourists on Luna. It was fun, as long as they landed on their +feet at each jump, and the food and liquids stayed on plates and in +glasses and cups. Yves Jacquemont began posting signs in conspicuous +places:</p> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></div> +<h4> +<span class="smcap">WEIGHT IS WHAT YOU LIFT, MASS IS WHAT HURTS<br /> +WHEN IT HITS YOU.<br /> +WEIGHT DEPENDS ON GRAVITY; MASS IS ALWAYS CONSTANT.</span></h4> + + +<p>His father came on-screen from his office in Storisende. By then, +there was a 30-second time lag in communication between the ship and +Poictesme.</p> + +<p>"My private detectives found out about the <i>Andromeda</i>," he said. +"She's going to Panurge, in the Gamma System. They have a couple of +computermen with them, one they hired from the Stock Exchange, and one +they practically shanghaied away from the Government. And some of the +people who chartered the ship are members of a family that were +interested in a positronic-equipment plant on Panurge at the time of +the War."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, then; we don't need to worry about that any more. +They're just hunting for Merlin."</p> + +<p>Some of his companions were looking at him curiously. A little later, +Piet Ludvyckson, the electromagnetics engineer, said: "I thought you +were looking for Merlin, Conn."</p> + +<p>"Not on Koschchei. We're looking for something to build a hypership +out of. If I had Merlin in my hip pocket right now, I'd trade it for +one good ship like the <i>City of Asgard</i> or the <i>City of Nefertiti</i>, +and give a keg of brandy and a box of cigars to boot. If we had a ship +of our own, we'd be selling lots of both, and not for Storisende +Spaceport prices, either."</p> + +<p>"But don't you think Merlin's important?" Charley Gatworth, who had +overheard him, asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure. If we find Merlin, we can run it for President. It would make a +better one than Jake Vyckhoven."</p> + +<p>He let it go at that. Plenty of opportunities later to expand the +theme.</p> + +<p>The gravitation gauge dropped to zero. Now they were in free fall, and +it lasted twice as long as Yves Jacquemont had predicted. There were a +few misadventures, none serious and most of them comic—For example, +when Jerry Rivas opened a bottle of beer, everybody was chasing the +amber globules and catching them in cups, and those who were splashed +were glad it hadn't been hot coffee.</p> + +<p>They made their second, 180-degree turnover while weightless. Then +they began decelerating and approached Koshchei stern-on, and the +gravity gauge began climbing slowly up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> again, and things began +staying put, and they were walking instead of floating. Koshchei grew +larger and larger ahead; the polar icecaps, and the faint dappling of +clouds, and the dark wiggling lines on the otherwise uniform red-brown +surface which were mountain ranges became visible. Finally they began +to see, first with the telescopic screens and then without +magnification, the little dots and specks that were cities and +industrial centers.</p> + +<p>Then they were in atmosphere, and Jacquemont made the final shift, to +horizontal position, and turned the ship over to Nichols.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>For a moment, the scout-boat tumbled away from the ship and Conn was +back in free fall. Then he got on the lift-and-drive and steadied it, +and pressed the trigger button, firing a green smoke bomb. Beside him, +Yves Jacquemont put on the radio and the screen pickups. He could see +the ship circling far above, and the manipulator-boat, with its +claw-arms and grapples, breaking away from it. Then he looked down on +the endless desert of iron oxide that stretched in all directions to +the horizon, until he saw a spot, optically the size of a +five-centisol piece, that was the shipbuilding city of Port Carpenter. +He turned the boat toward it, firing four more green smokes at +three-second intervals. The manipulator-boat started to follow, and +the <i>Harriet Barne</i>, now a distant speck in the sky, began coming +closer.</p> + +<p>Below, as he cut speed and altitude, he could see the pock-marks of +open-pit mines and the glint of sunlight on bright metal and +armor-glass roofs, the blunt conical stacks of nuclear furnaces and +the twisted slag-flows, like the ancient lava-flows of Barathrum. And, +he reflected, he was an influential non-office-holding stockholder in +every bit of it, as soon as they could screen Storisende and get +claims filed.</p> + +<p>A high tower rose out of the middle of Port Carpenter, with a +glass-domed mushroom top. That would be the telecast station; the +administrative buildings were directly below it and around its base. +He came in slowly over the city, above a spaceport with its empty +landing pits in a double<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> circle around a traffic-control building, +and airship docks and warehouses beyond. More steel mills. Factories, +either hemispherical domes or long buildings with rounded tops. +Ship-construction yards and docks; for the most part, these were +empty, but on some of them the landing-stands of spaceships, like +eight-and ten-legged spiders, waiting for forty years for hulls to be +built on them. A few spherical skeletons of ships, a few with some of +the outer skin on. It wasn't until he was passing close to them that +he realized how huge they were. And stacks of material—sheet steel, +deckplate, girders—and contragravity lifters and construction +machines, all left on jobs that were never finished, the bright +rustless metal dulled by forty years of rain and windblown red dust. +They must have been working here to the very last, and then, when the +evacuation elsewhere was completed, they had dropped whatever they +were doing, piled into such ships as were completed, and lifted away.</p> + +<p>The mushroom-topped tower rose from the middle of a circular building +piled level on level, almost half a mile across. He circled over it, +saw an airship dock, and called the <i>Harriet Barne</i> while Jacquemont +talked to Jerry Rivas, piloting the manipulator-boat. Rivas came in +and joined them in the air; they hovered over the dock and helped the +ship down when she came in, nudging her into place.</p> + +<p>By the time Conn and Jacquemont and Rivas and Anse Dawes and Roddell +and Youtsko and Karanja were out on the dock in oxygen helmets, the +ship's airlock was opening and Nichols and Vibart and the others were +coming out, towing a couple of small lifters loaded with equipment.</p> + +<p>The airlocked door into the building, at the end of the dock, was +closed; when somebody pulled the handle, it refused to open. That +meant it was powered from the central power plant, wherever that was. +There was a plug socket beside it, with the required voltage marked +over it. They used an extension line from a power unit on one of the +lifters to get it open, and did the same with the inner door; when it +was open, they passed into a dim room that stretched away ahead of +them and on either side.</p> + +<p>It looked like a freight-shipping room; there were a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> piles of +boxes and cases here and there, and a litter of packing material +everywhere. A long counter-desk, and a bank of robo-clerks behind it. +According to the air-analyzer, the oxygen content inside was safely +high. They all pulled off their fishbowl helmets and slung them.</p> + +<p>"Well, we can bunk inside here tonight," somebody said. "It won't be +so crowded here."</p> + +<p>"We'll bunk here after we find the power plant and get the ventilator +fans going," Jacquemont said.</p> + +<p>Anse Dawes held up the cigarette he had lighted; that was all the +air-analyzer he needed.</p> + +<p>"That looks like enough oxygen," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it makes its own ventilation; convection," Jacquemont said. "But +you go to sleep in here, and you'll smother in a big puddle of your +own exhaled CO<sub>2</sub>. Just watch what the smoke from that cigarette's +doing."</p> + +<p>The smoke was hanging motionless a few inches from the hot ash on the +end of the cigarette.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to find the power plant, then," Matsui, the power-engineer +said. "Down at the bottom and in the middle, I suppose, and anybody's +guess how deep this place goes."</p> + +<p>"We'll find plans of the building," Jerry Rivas said. "Any big dig +I've ever been on, you could always find plans. The troubleshooters +always had them; security officer, and maintenance engineer."</p> + +<p>There were inside-use vehicles in the big room; they loaded what they +had with them onto a couple of freight-skids and piled on, starting +down a passage toward the center of the building. The passageways were +well marked with direction-signs, and they found the administrative +area at the top and center, around the base of the telecast-tower. The +security offices, from which police, military guard, fire protection +and other emergency services were handled, had a fine set of plans and +maps, not only for the building itself but for everything else in Port +Carpenter. The power plant, as Matsui had surmised, was at the very +bottom, directly below.</p> + +<p>The only trouble, after they found it, was that it was completely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +dead. The reactors wouldn't react, the converters wouldn't convert, +and no matter how many switches they shoved in, there was no power +output. The inside telemetered equipment, of course, was self-powered. +Some of them were dead, too, but from those which still worked +Mohammed Matsui got a uniformly disheartening story.</p> + +<p>"You know what happened?" he said. "When this gang bugged out, back in +854, they left the power on. Now the conversion mass is all gone, and +the plutonium's all spent. We'll have to find more plutonium, and tear +this whole thing down and refuel it, and repack the mass-conversion +chambers—provided nothing's eaten holes in itself after the mass +inside was all converted."</p> + +<p>"How long will it take?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"If we can find plutonium, and if we can find robots to do the work +inside, and if there's been no structural damage, and if we keep at +it—a couple of days."</p> + +<p>"All right; let's get at it. I don't know where we'll find shipyards +like these anywhere else, and if we do, things'll probably be as bad +there. We came here to fix things up and start them, didn't we?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<p>It didn't take as long as Mohammed Matsui expected. They found the +fissionables magazine, and in it plenty of plutonium, each +subcritical slug in a five-hundred-pound collapsium canister. There +were repair-robots, and they only had to replace the cartridges in the +power units of three of them. They sent them inside the +collapsium-shielded death-to-people area—transmitter robots, to relay +what the others picked up through receptors wire-connected with the +outside; foremen-robots, globes a yard in diameter covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> with horns +and spikes like old-fashioned ocean-navy mines; worker-robots, in a +variety of shapes, but mostly looking like many-clawed crabs.</p> + +<p>Neither the converter nor the reactor had sustained any damage while +the fissionables were burning out. So the robots began tearing out +reactor-elements, and removing plutonium slugs no longer capable of +sustaining chain reaction but still dangerously radioactive. Nuclear +reactors had become simpler and easier to service since the First Day +of the Year Zero, when Enrico Fermi put the first one into operation, +but the principles remained the same. Work was less back-breaking and +muscle-straining, but it called for intense concentration on screens +and meters and buttons that was no less exhausting.</p> + +<p>The air around them began to grow foul. Finally, the air-analyzer +squawked and flashed red lights to signal that the oxygen had dropped +below the safety margin. They had no mobile fan equipment, or time to +hunt any; they put on their fishbowl helmets and went back to work. +After twelve hours, with a few short breaks, they had the reactors +going. Jerry Rivas and a couple of others took a heavy-duty lifter and +went looking for conversion mass; they brought back a couple of tons +of scrap-iron and fed it to the converters. A few seconds after it was +in, the pilot lights began coming on all over the panels. They took +two more hours to get the oxygen-separator and the ventilator fans +going, and for good measure they started the water pumps and the +heating system. Then they all went outside to the ship to sleep. The +sun was just coming up.</p> + +<p>It was sunset when they rose and returned to the building. The +airlocks opened at a touch on the operating handles. Inside, the air +was fresh and sweet, the temperature was a pleasantly uniform 75 +degrees Fahrenheit, the fans were humming softly, and there was +running hot and cold water everywhere.</p> + +<p>Jerry Rivas, Anse Dawes, and the three tramp freighter fo'c'sle hands +took lifters and equipment and went off foraging. The rest of them +went to the communications center to get the telecast station, the +radio beacon, and the inside-screen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> system into operation. There were +a good many things that had to be turned on manually, and more things +that had been left on, forty years ago, and now had to be repowered or +replaced. They worked at it most of the night; before morning, almost +everything was working, and they were sending a signal across +twenty-eight million miles to Storisende, on Poictesme.</p> + +<p>It was late evening, Storisende time, but Rodney Maxwell, who must +have been camping beside his own screen, came on at once, which is to +say five and a half minutes later.</p> + +<p>"Well, I see you got in somewhere. Where are you, and how is +everything?"</p> + +<p>Then he picked up a cigar out of an ashtray in front of him and lit +it, waiting.</p> + +<p>"Port Carpenter; we're in the main administration building," Conn told +him. He talked for a while about what they had found and done since +their arrival. "Have you an extra viewscreen, fitted for recording?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>Five and a half minutes later, his father nodded. "Yes, right here." +He leaned forward and away from the communication screen in front of +him. "I have it on." He gave the wave-length combination. "Ready to +receive."</p> + +<p>"This is about all we have, now. Views we took coming in, from the +ship and a scout-boat." He started transmitting them. "We haven't sent +in any claims yet. I wasn't sure whether I should make them for +Alpha-Interplanetary, or Litchfield Exploration & Salvage."</p> + +<p>"Don't bother sending in anything to the Claims Office," his father +said. "Send anything you want to claim in here to me, and I'll have +Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong file them. They'll be made for a new +company we're organizing."</p> + +<p>"What? Another one?"</p> + +<p>His father nodded, grinning. "Koshchei Exploitation & Development; +we've made application already. We can't claim exclusive rights to the +whole planet, like the old interstellar exploration companies did +before the War, but since you're the only people on the planet, we can +come pretty close to it by detail." He was looking to one side, at the +other screen. "Great Ghu, Conn! This place of yours all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> together +beats everything I ever dug, Force Command and Barathrum Spaceport +included. How big would you say it is? More than ten miles in radius?"</p> + +<p>"About five or six. Ten or twelve miles across."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, then. We'll just claim the building you're in, now, +and the usual ten-mile radius, the same as at Force Command. We'll +claim the place as soon as the company's chartered; in the meantime, +send in everything else you can get views of."</p> + +<p>They set up a regular radio-and-screen watch after that. Charley +Gatworth and Piet Ludvyckson, both of whom were studying astrogation +in hopes of qualifying as space officers after they had a real +spaceship, elected themselves to that duty; it gave them plenty of +time for study. Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes, with whomever they could +find to help them, were making a systematic search. They looked first +of all for foodstuffs, and found enough in the storerooms of three +restaurants on the executive level to feed their own party in gourmet +style for a year, and enough in the main storerooms to provision an +army. They even found refrigerators and freeze-bins full of meat and +vegetables fresh after forty years. That surprised everybody, for the +power units had gone dead long ago. Then it was noticed that they were +covered with collapsium. Anything that would stop cosmic rays was a +hundred percent efficient as a heat insulator.</p> + +<p>Coming in, the first day, Conn had seen an almost completed hypership +bulking above the domes and roofs of Port Carpenter in the distance. +He saw it again on screen from a pickup atop the central tower. As +soon as the party was comfortably settled in the executive apartments +on the upper levels, he and Yves Jacquemont and Mack Vibart and Schalk +Retief, the construction engineer, found an aircar in one of the +hangars and went to have a closer look at her.</p> + +<p>She had all her collapsium on, except for a hundred-foot circle at the +top and a number of rectangular openings around the sides. Yves +Jacquemont said that would be where the airlocks would go.</p> + +<p>"They always put them on last. But don't be surprised at anything you +find or don't find inside. As soon as the skeleton's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> up they put the +armor on, and then build the rest of the ship out from the middle. It +might be slower getting material in through the airlock openings, but +it holds things together while they're working."</p> + +<p>They put on the car's lights, lifted to the top, and let down through +the upper opening. It was like entering a huge globular spider's web, +globe within globe of interlaced girders and struts and braces, +extending from the center to the outer shell. Even the spider was +home—a three-hundred-foot ball of collapsium, looking tiny at the +very middle.</p> + +<p>"Why, this isn't a ship!" Vibart cried in disgust. "This is just the +outside of a ship. They haven't done a thing inside."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, they have," Jacquemont contradicted, aiming a spotlight +toward the shimmering ball in the middle. "They have all the engines +in—Abbott lift-and-drive, Dillingham hyperdrives, pseudograv, power +reactors, converters, everything. They wouldn't have put on the +shielding if they hadn't. They did that as soon as they had the +outside armor on."</p> + +<p>"Wonder why they didn't finish her, if they got that far," Retief +said.</p> + +<p>"They didn't need her. They'd had it; they wanted to go home."</p> + +<p>"Well, we're not going to finish her, not with any fifteen men," +Retief said. "One man has only two hands, two feet and one brain; he +can only handle so much robo-equipment at a time."</p> + +<p>"I never expected we'd build a ship ourselves," Conn said. "We came to +look the place over and get a few claims staked. When we've done that, +we'll go back and get a real gang together."</p> + +<p>"I don't know where you'll find them," Jacquemont commented. "We'll +need a couple of hundred, and they ought all to be graduate engineers. +We can't do this job with farm-tramps."</p> + +<p>"You made some good shipyard men out of farm-tramps on Barathrum."</p> + +<p>"And what'll you do for supervisors?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're one. General superintendent. Mack, you and Schalk are a couple +of others. You just keep a day ahead of your men in learning the job, +you'll do all right."</p> + +<p>Vibart turned to Jacquemont. "You know, Yves, he'll do it," he said. +"He doesn't know how impossible this is, and when we try to tell him, +he won't believe us. You can't stop a guy like that. All right, Conn; +deal me in."</p> + +<p>"I won't let anybody be any crazier than I am," Jacquemont declared, +and then looked around the vastness of the empty ship with its +lacework of steel. "All you need is about ten million square feet of +decks and bulkheads, an air-and-water system, hydroponic tanks and +carniculture vats, astrogation and robo-pilot equipment, about which I +know very little, a hyperspace pilot system, about which I know +nothing at all.... Conn, why don't you just build a new Merlin? It +would be simpler."</p> + +<p>"I don't want a new Merlin. I'm not even interested in the original +Merlin. This is what I want, right here."</p> + +<p>He told his father, by screen, about the ship. "I believe we can +finish her, but not with the gang that's here. We'll need a couple of +hundred men. Now, with the supplies we've found, we can stay here +indefinitely. Should we do more exploring and claim some more of these +places, or should we come home right away and start recruiting, and +then come back with a large party, start work on the ship, and explore +and make further claims as we have time?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Better come back as soon as possible. Just explore Port Carpenter, +find out what's going to be needed to finish the ship and what +facilities you have to produce it, and get things cleaned up a little +so that you can start work as soon as you have people to do it. I'm +organizing another company—don't laugh, now; I've only started +promotioneering—which I think we will call Trisystem & Interstellar +Spacelines. Get me all the views you can of the ship herself and of +the steel mills and that sort of thing that will produce material for +finishing her; I want to use them in promotion. By the way, has she a +name?"</p> + +<p>"Only a shipyard construction number."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then suppose you call her <i>Ouroboros</i>, after Genji Gartner's old +ship, the one that discovered the Trisystem."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ouroboros II</i>; that's fine. Will do."</p> + +<p>"Good. I'll have Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong make application for a +charter right away. We'll have to make Alpha-Interplanetary one of the +stockholding companies, and also Koschchei Exploitation & Development, +and, of course, Litchfield Exploration & Salvage...."</p> + +<p>It was a pity there really wasn't a Merlin. If this kept on nothing +else would be able to figure out who owned how much stock in what.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They found the on-the-job engineering office for the ship in a small +dome half a mile from the construction dock. Yves Jacquemont and Mack +Vibart and Schalk Retief moved in and buried themselves to the ears in +specifications and blueprints. The others formed into parties of three +or four, and began looking about production facilities for material. +There was a steel mill a mile from the construction site; it was +almost fully robotic. Iron ore went in at one end, and finished sheet +steel and girders and deck plates came out at the other, and a dozen +men could handle the whole thing. There was a collapsium plant; there +were machine-shops and forging-shops. Every time they finished +inspecting one, Yves Jacquemont would have a list of half a dozen more +plants that he wanted found and examined yesterday morning at the +latest.</p> + +<p>Some of them were in a frightful mess; work had been suspended and +everybody had gone away leaving everything as it was. Some were in +perfect order, ready to go into operation again as soon as power was +put on. It had depended, apparently, upon the personal character of +whoever had been in charge in the end. The nuclear-electric power unit +plant was in the latter class. The man in charge of it evidently +hadn't believed in leaving messes behind, even if he didn't expect to +come back.</p> + +<p>It was built in the shape of a T. One side of the cross-stroke +contained the cartridge-case plant, where presses formed sheet-steel +cylinders, some as small as a round of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> pistol ammunition and some the +size of ten-gallon kegs. They moved toward the center on a production +line, finally reaching a matter-collapser where they were plated with +collapsium. From the other side, radioactive isotopes, mostly +reactor-waste, came in through evacuated and collapsium-shielded +chambers, were sorted, and finally, where the cross-arm of the T +joined the downstroke, packed in the collapsium cases. The production +line continued at right angles down the long building in which the +apparatus which converted nuclear energy to electric current was +assembled and packed; at the end, the finished power cartridges came +off, big ones for heavy machines and tiny ones for things like hand +tools and pocket lighters and razors. There were stacks of them, in +all sizes, loaded on skids and ready to move out. Except for the +minute and unavoidable leakage of current, they were as good as the +day they were assembled, and would be for another century.</p> + +<p>Like almost everything else, the power-cartridge plant was airtight +and had its own oxygen-generator. The air-analyzer reported the oxygen +insufficient to support life. That was understandable; there were a +lot of furnaces which had evidently been hot when the power was cut +off; they had burned up the oxygen before cooling. They put on their +oxygen equipment when they got out of the car.</p> + +<p>"I'll go back and have a look at the power plant," Matsui said. "If +it's like the rest of this place, it'll be ready to go as soon as the +reactors are started. I wish everybody here had left things like +this."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll have to check everything to make sure nothing was left on +when the main power was cut," Conn said. "Don't do anything back there +till we give you the go-ahead."</p> + +<p>Matsui nodded and set off on foot along the broad aisle in the middle. +Conn looked around in the dim light that filtered through the dusty +glass overhead. On either side of the central aisle were two +production lines; between each pair, at intervals, stood massive +machines which evidently fabricated parts for the power cartridges. +Over them, and over the machines directly involved in production, +were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> receptor aerials, all oriented toward a stubby tower, twenty +feet thick and fifty in height, topped by a hemispherical dome.</p> + +<p>"That'll be the control tower for all the machinery in here," he +decided. "Anse, suppose you and I go take a look at it."</p> + +<p>"We'll take a look at the machines," Rivas said. "Clyde, you and I can +work back on the right and then come down on the other side. You know +anything about this stuff?"</p> + +<p>"Me? Nifflheim, no," Nichols said. "I know a robo-control when I see +one, and I know whether it's set to receive or not."</p> + +<p>There was a self-powered lift inside the control tower. Conn and Anse +rode it to the top and got out, Anse snapping on his flashlight. It +was dark in the dome at the top; instead of windows there were +viewscreens all around it. Five men had worked here; at least, there +were four chairs at four intricate control panels, one for each of the +four production lines, and a fifth chair in front of a number of +communication screens. There was a heavy-duty power unit, turned off. +Conn threw the switch. Lights came on inside, and the outside +viewscreens lit.</p> + +<p>They were examining the control-panels when Conn's belt radio buzzed. +He plugged it in on his helmet. It was Mohammed Matsui.</p> + +<p>"There's one big power plant back here," the engineer said. "Right in +the middle. It only powers what's in front of it. There must be +another one in either wing, for the isotope plant and the +cartridge-case plant. I'll go look at them. But the power's been cut +off from the machines in the main building. There's four big switches, +one for each production line—"</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by a shout, almost a shriek, from somewhere. It +sounded like Jerry Rivas. A moment later, Rivas was clamoring:</p> + +<p>"Conn! What did you turn on? Turn it off, right away!"</p> + +<p>Anse jumped to the switch, pulling it with one hand and getting on his +flashlight with the other. The lights went out and the screens went +dark.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's off."</p> + +<p>"The dickens it is!" Rivas disputed. "There are a couple of big +supervisor-robots circling around, and a flock of workers...."</p> + +<p>At the same time, Clyde Nichols began cursing. Or maybe he was +praying; it was hard to be certain.</p> + +<p>"But we pulled the switch. It was only the lights and viewscreens in +here, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"It didn't do any good. Pull another one."</p> + +<p>Matsui, back at the power plant, was wanting to know what was wrong. +Captain Nichols stopped cursing—or praying?—and said, "Mutiny, +that's what! The robots have turned on us!"</p> + +<p>He knew what had happened, or was almost sure he did. A radio impulse +had gone out, somehow, from the control tower. Something they hadn't +checked, that had been left on. There was just enough current-leakage +from the units in the robots to keep the receptors active for forty +years. The supervisor-robots had gone active, and they had activated +the rest. Once on, cutting the current from the control tower wouldn't +turn them off again.</p> + +<p>"Put the switch in again, Anse; the damage is done and you won't make +it any worse."</p> + +<p>When the screens came on, he looked around from one to another. The +two supervisors, big ovoid things like the small round ones they had +used in repairing the power reactors the first day, were circling +aimlessly near the roof, one clockwise and the other counterclockwise, +dodging obstructions and getting politely out of each other's way. At +lower altitude, a dozen assorted worker-robots were moving about, and +more were emerging from cells at the end of the building. Sweepers, +with rotary brooms and rakes, crablike all-purpose handling robots, a +couple of vacuum-cleaning robots, each with a flexible funnel-tipped +proboscis and a bulging dust-sack. One tiling, a sort of special job +designed to get into otherwise inaccessible places, had a twenty-foot, +many-jointed, claw-tipped arm in front. It passed by and slightly over +the tower, saw Clyde Nichols, and swooped toward him. With a howl, +Nichols dived under one of the large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> machines between two production +lines. A pistol went off a couple of times. That would be Jerry Rivas. +Nobody else bothered with a gun on Koshchei, but he carried one as +some people carry umbrellas, whether he expected to need it or not and +because he would feel lost without it.</p> + +<p>That he took in at one glance. Then he was looking at the control +panels. The switches and buttons were all marked for machine-control +in different steps of power-unit production. That was all for the big +stuff, powered centrally. There weren't any controls for lifters or +conveyers or other mobile equipment. Evidently they were handled out +in the shop, from mobile control-vehicles. He did find, on the +communication-screen panel, a lot of things that had been left on. He +snapped them off, one after another, snapping them on when a screen +went dark. There were fifteen or twenty robots, some rather large, in +the air or moving on the floor by now.</p> + +<p>"We can't do anything here," he told Anse. "These are the +shop-cleaning robots. They were the last things used here when the +place closed down, and the two supervisors were probably controlled +from a vehicle, and it's anybody's guess where that is now. When you +threw that switch, it sent out an impulse that activated them. They're +running their instruction-tapes, and putting the others through all +their tricks."</p> + +<p>Three more shots went off. Jerry Rivas was shouting: "Hey, whattaya +know! I killed one of the buggers!"</p> + +<p>There were any number of ways in which a work-robot could be shot out +of commission with a pistol. All of them would be by the purest of +pure luck. The next time we go into a place like this, Conn thought, +we take a couple of bazookas along.</p> + +<p>"Turn everything off and let's go. See what we can do outside."</p> + +<p>Anse put on his flashlight and pulled the switch. They got into the +lift and rode down, going outside. As soon as they emerged, they saw a +rectangular object fifteen feet long settle over their aircar, let +down half a dozen clawed arms, and pick it up, flying away with it. It +had taped instructions to remove anything that didn't belong in the +aisleway; it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> probably asked the supervisor about the aircar, and the +supervisor didn't return an inhibitory signal, so it went ahead. Conn +and Anse both shouted at it, knowing perfectly well that shouting was +futile. Then they were running for their lives with one of the +crablike all-purpose jobs after them. They dived under the slightly +raised bed of a long belt-conveyer and crawled. Jerry Rivas fired +another shot, somewhere.</p> + +<p>The robots themselves were having troubles. They had done all the work +they were supposed to do; now the supervisors were insisting that they +do it over again. Uncomplainingly, they swept and raked and +vacuum-cleaned where they had vacuum-cleaned and raked and swept forty +years ago. The scrap-pickers, having picked all the scrap, were going +over the same places and finding nothing, and then getting deflected +and gathering a lot of things not definable as scrap, and then +circling around, darting away from one another in obedience to their +radar-operated evasion-systems, and trying to get to the outside scrap +pile, and finding that the doors wouldn't open because the door +openers weren't turned on, and finally dumping what they were carrying +when the supervisors gave them no instructions.</p> + +<p>One of them seemed to have dumped something close to where Clyde +Nichols was hiding; if his language had been a little stronger, it +would have burned out Conn's radio. Their own immediate vicinity being +for the moment clear of flying robots, Conn and Anse rolled from under +the conveyer and legged it between the two production lines. +Immediately, three of the crablike all-purpose handling-robots saw +them, if that was the word for it, and came dashing for them, followed +by a thing that was mostly dump-lifter; it was banging its bin-lid up +and down angrily. About fifty yards ahead, Jerry Rivas stepped from +behind a machine and fired; one of the handling-robots flashed green +from underneath, went off contragravity, and came down with a crash. +Immediately, like wolves on a wounded companion, the other two pounced +upon it, dragging and pulling against each other. That was a hunk of +junk; their orders were to remove it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>The mobile trash-bin went zooming up to the ceiling, reversed within +twenty feet of it and came circling back to the ground, to go zooming +up again. It had gone crazy, literally. It had been getting too many +contradictory orders from its supervisor, and its circuits were +overloaded and its relays jammed. Rats in mazes and human-type people +in financial difficulties go psychotic in very much the same way.</p> + +<p>The two surviving all-purpose robots were also headed for a padded +repair shop. They had come close enough to each other to activate +their anticollision safeties. Immediately, they flew apart. Then their +order to pick up that big piece of junk took over, and they started +forward again, to be bounced apart as soon as they were within five +feet of one another. If left alone, their power units would run down +in a year or so; until then, they would keep on trying.</p> + +<p>Soulless intelligences, indeed! Then it occurred to him that for the +past however-long-it-had-been he hadn't heard from Mohammed Matsui. He +jiggled his radio.</p> + +<p>"Ham, where are you? Are you still alive?"</p> + +<p>"I'm back at the power plant," Matsui said exasperatedly. "There's a +big thing circling around here; every time I stick my head out, he +makes a dive at me. I didn't know robots would attack people."</p> + +<p>"They don't. He just thinks you're some more trash he's been told to +gather up."</p> + +<p>Matsui was indignant. Conn laughed.</p> + +<p>"On the level, Ham. He has photoelectric vision, and a picture of what +that aisle is supposed to look like. When you get out in it, he knows +you don't belong there and tries to grab you."</p> + +<p>"Hey, there's a lot of junk in here in a couple of baskets at the +converter. Say I chuck one out to him; what would he do?"</p> + +<p>"Grab it and take it away, like he's taped to do."</p> + +<p>"Okay; wait a minute."</p> + +<p>They couldn't see the archway to the power plant, or even the robot +that had Matsui penned up, but after a few minutes they saw it soaring +away, clutching a big wire basket full of broken boxes and other +rubbish. It headed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> for the mutually repelling swarm of robots around +the door that wouldn't open for them. Conn and Anse and Jerry ran +toward the rear, joined by Clyde Nichols, who popped up from behind a +pile of spools of electric wire. They made it just before the +coffin-shaped thing that had carried off the aircar came over to +investigate.</p> + +<p>"You want to be careful back there," Matsui told them, as they started +toward the temporary safety of the power plant. "All the +reactor-repair robots are there; don't get <i>them</i> on the warpath +next."</p> + +<p>Of course! There were always repair-robots at a power plant, to go +into places no human could enter and live. Behind the collapsium +shielding, they wouldn't have been activated.</p> + +<p>"Let's have a look at them. What kind?"</p> + +<p>"Standard reactor-servicers; the same we used at the administration +center."</p> + +<p>Matsui opened the door, and they went into the power plant. Conn and +Matsui put on the service-power and activated the two supervisors; +they, in turn, activated their workers. It was tricky work getting +them all outside the collapsium-walled power-plant area; each worker +had to be passed through by the supervisor inside, under Matsui's +control. Because of the close quarters at which they worked inside the +reactor and the converter, they weren't fitted with anticollision +repulsors, and, working under close human supervision, they all had +audiovisual pickups. It took some time to get adequate screens set up +outside the collapsium.</p> + +<p>Finally, they were ready. Their two supervisors went up to the +ceiling, one controlled by Conn and the other by Matsui. The larger, +egg-shaped shop-labor supervisors were still moving in irregular +orbits; those of the workers still able to receive commands were +trying to obey them, and the rest were jammed in a swarm at the other +end.</p> + +<p>First one, and then the other of the labor-boss robots were captured. +They were by now at the end of what might, loosely, be called their +wits. They weren't used to operating without orders, and had been +sending out commands largely at random. Now they came to a stop, and +then began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> moving in tight, guided circles; one by one, the worker +robots still able to heed them were brought to ground and turned off. +That left the swarm at the door. The worker-robots under direct +control of the power-plant supervisors went after them, grappling them +and hauling them down to where Anse and Jerry Rivas and Captain +Nichols could turn them off manually.</p> + +<p>The aircar was a hopeless wreck, but its radio was still functioning. +Conn called Charley Gatworth, who called a gang under Gomez, working +not far away; they came with another car.</p> + +<p>It took all the next day for a gang of six of them to get the place +straightened up. Neither Conn nor Gomez, who was a roboticist himself, +would trust any of the workers or the two supervisors; their +experiences out of control had rendered them unreliable. They took out +their power units and left them to be torn down and repaired later. +Other robots were brought in to replace them. When they were through, +the power-unit cartridge plant was ready for operation.</p> + +<p>Jerry Rivas wanted to start production immediately.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to go back to Poictesme pretty soon," he said. "We don't +want to go back empty. Well, I know that no matter what we dug up, and +what we could sell or couldn't sell, there's always a market for +power-unit cartridges. Electric-light units, household-appliance +units, aircar and airboat units, any size at all. We run that plant at +full capacity for a few days and we can load the <i>Harriett Barne</i> +full, and I'll bet the whole cargo will be sold in a week after we get +in."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + + +<p>The <i>Harriet Barne</i> settled comfortably at the dock, the +bunting-swathed tugs lifting away from her. They had the outside sound +pickups turned as low as possible, and still the noise was deafening. +The spaceport was jammed, people on the ground and contragravity +vehicles swarming above, with police cars vainly trying to keep them +in order. All the bands in Storisende seemed to have been combined; +they were blaring the "Planetary Hymn";</p> + + +<p> +<span class='poem'><i>Genji Gartner's body lies a-moldering in the tomb,</i></span> +<br/> +<span class='poem'><i>But his soul goes marching on!</i> +<br /> +</span> +</p> + +<p>When they opened the airlock, there was a hastily improvised +ceremonial barge, actually a farm-scow completely draped in red and +white, the Planetary colors. They all stopped, briefly, as they came +out, to enjoy the novelty of outdoor air which could actually be +breathed. Conn saw his father in the scow, and beside him Sylvie +Jacquemont, trying, almost successfully, to keep from jumping up and +down in excitement. Morgan Gatworth to meet his son, and Lester Dawes +to meet his. Kurt Fawzi, Dolf Kellton, Colonel Zareff, Tom Brangwyn. +He didn't see his mother, or his sister. Flora he had hardly counted +on, but he was disappointed that his mother wasn't there to meet him.</p> + +<p>Sylvie was embracing her father as he shook hands with his; then she +threw her arms around his neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Conn, I'm so happy! I was watching everything I could on-screen, +everything you saw, and all the places you were, and everything you +were doing...."</p> + +<p>The scow—pardon, ceremonial barge—gave a slight lurch,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> throwing +them together. Over her shoulder, he saw his father and Yves +Jacquemont exchanging grins. Then they had to break it up while he +shook hands with Fawzi and Judge Ledue and the others, and by the time +that was over, the barge was letting down in front of the stand at the +end of the dock, and the band was still deafening Heaven with "Genji +Gartner's Body," and they all started up the stairs to be greeted by +Planetary President Vyckhoven; he looked like an elderly bear who has +been too well fed for too long in a zoo. And by Minister-General +Murchison, who represented the Terran Federation on Poictesme. He was +thin and balding, and he looked as though he had just mistaken the +vinegar cruet for the wine decanter. Genji Gartner's soul stopped +marching on, but the speeches started, and that was worse. And after +the speeches, there was the parade, everybody riding in +transparent-bodied aircars, and the <i>Lester Dawes</i> and the two ships +of the new Planetary Air Navy and a swarm of gunboats in column five +hundred feet above, all firing salutes.</p> + +<p>In spite of what wasn't, but might just as well have been, a concerted +conspiracy to keep them apart, he managed to get a few words privately +with Sylvie.</p> + +<p>"My mother; she didn't get here. Is anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Is anything anything else? I've been in the middle of it ever since +you went away. Your mother's still moaning about all these companies +your father's promoting—he never used to do anything like that, and +it's all too big, and it's going to end in a big smash. And then she +gets onto Merlin. You know, she won't say Merlin, she always calls it, +'that thing.'"</p> + +<p>"I've noticed that."</p> + +<p>"Then she begins talking about all the horrible things that'll happen +when it's found, and that sets Flora off. Flora says Merlin's a big +fake, and you and your father are using it to rob thousands of widows +and orphans of their life savings, and that sets your mother off +again. Self-sustaining cyclic reaction, like the Bethe solar-phoenix. +And every time I try to pour a little oil on the troubled waters, I +find I've gotten it on the fire instead. And then, Flora had this +fight with Wade Lucas, and of course, she blames you for that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good heavens, why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she couldn't blame it on herself, could she? Oh, you mean why +the fight? Lucas is in business with your father now, and she can't +convince him that you and your father are a pair of quadruple-dyed +villains, I suppose. Anyhow, the engagement is <i>phttt</i>! Conn, is my +father going back to Koshchei?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as we can round up some people to help us on the ship."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm going along. I've had it, Conn. I'm a combat-fatigue case."</p> + +<p>"But, Sylvie; that isn't any place for a girl."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poo! This is Sylvie. We're old war buddies. We soldiered together +on Barathrum; remember?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd be the only girl, and...."</p> + +<p>"That's what you think. If you expect to get any kind of a gang +together, at least a third of them will be girls. A lot of technicians +are girls, and when work gets slack, they're always the first ones to +get shoved out of jobs. I'll bet there are a thousand girl technicians +out of work here—any line of work you want to name. I know what I'll +do; I'll make a telecast appearance. I still have some news value, +from the Barathrum business. Want to bet that I won't be the working +girl's Joan of Arc by this time next week?"</p> + +<p>That cheered him. A girl can punch any kind of a button a man can, and +a lot of them knew what buttons to punch, and why. Say she could find +fifty girls....</p> + +<p>He had a slightly better chance to talk to his father before the +banquet at the Executive Palace that evening. They shared the same +suite at the Ritz-Gartner, and even welcoming committees seldom chase +their victims from bedroom to bath.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know all about it," Rodney Maxwell said bitterly. "I was home, +a couple of weeks ago. Flora simply will not speak to me, and your +mother begged me, in tears, to quit everything we're doing here. I +tried to give her some idea of what would happen if I dropped this, +even supposing I could; she wouldn't listen to me." He finished +putting the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> studs in his shirt. "You still think this is worth what +it's costing us?"</p> + +<p>"You saw the views we sent back. There's work on Koshchei for a +million people, at least. Why, even these two makeshift ships they're +putting together here at Storisende are giving work, one way or +another, to almost a thousand. Think what things will be like a year +from now, if this keeps on."</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell gave a wry laugh. "Didn't know I had a real Simon-pure +altruist for a son."</p> + +<p>"Pardner, when you call me that, smile."</p> + +<p>"I am smiling. With some slight difficulty."</p> + +<p>He didn't think well of the banquet. Back in Litchfield, Senta would +have fired half her human help and taken a sledgehammer to her +robo-chef for a meal like that. Even his father's camp cook would have +been ashamed of it. And there were more speeches.</p> + +<p>President Vyckhoven managed to get hold of him and Yves Jacquemont +afterward, and steered them into his private study.</p> + +<p>"Have you any real reason for thinking that Merlin might be on +Koshchei?" the Planetary President asked.</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu, no! We weren't looking for Merlin, Mr. President. We were +looking for a hypership. We have one, too. Calling her <i>Ouroboros II</i>. +Twenty-five-hundred-footer. We expect to have her to space in a few +months. I surely don't need to tell you what that will do toward +restoring planetary prosperity."</p> + +<p>"No, of course not; a hypership of our own. But...." He looked from +one to the other of them. "But I understood.... That is, Mr. Kurt +Fawzi was saying...."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fawzi is looking for Merlin here on Poictesme. If anybody finds +it, that's where it'll be found. I'm interested in getting business +started again. If Merlin is found, it would help, of course." He +shrugged.</p> + +<p>"Don't look at me," Jacquemont said. "Mr. Maxwell—both of them, +father and son—want some spaceships. They hired me to help build +them. That's all I have in it." Then he relit the cigar the President +had given him and leaned back in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> his chair, staring at the stuffed +alcesoid head with the seven-foot hornspread above the fireplace.</p> + +<p>Conn described the interview to his father after they were back at the +hotel.</p> + +<p>"I hope you convinced him. You know, he's afraid of Merlin. A lot of +people have been saying that if Merlin's found, it should be used to +determine Government policy. A few extremists are beginning to say +that Merlin ought to <i>be</i> the Government, and Jake Vyckhoven and his +cronies ought to be dumped. Into the handiest mass-energy converter, +preferably. You know, if anybody found Merlin and started it auditing +the Planetary Treasury, Jake Vyckhoven'd be the one who'd be wanting a +hypership."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Tom Brangwyn ran him down the next morning in the dining room.</p> + +<p>"Conn, I wish you'd come along with me," he said. "Some of us are up +in Kurt's suite; we'd all like to talk to you."</p> + +<p>Somehow, he was acting as though he were making an arrest. That might +have been nothing but professional habit. Conn went up to Fawzi's +suite, and found Fawzi and Judge Ledue and Dolf Kellton and close to a +dozen others there.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you could come, Conn," the Judge greeted him. Now that the +defendant had arrived, the trial could begin. "I wish your father +could have gotten here. I asked him to come, but he had a prior +engagement. A meeting with some of the financial people here, about +some company he's interested in."</p> + +<p>"That's right; Trisystem & Interstellar Spacelines."</p> + +<p>"Interstellar!" Kurt Fawzi almost howled. "Great Ghu! Now it isn't +enough to go out to Koshchei; he wants to go clear out of the +Trisystem. That's what we wanted to talk about; all this nonsense you +and your father are in. Merlin's right here on Poictesme. It's right +at Force Command, and if your father hadn't robbed us of all our best +men, like Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes, we'd have found it by now. I +don't think you and your father care a hoot if we ever find Merlin or +not!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Kurt, that's a dreadful thing to say," Dolf Kellton objected in a +shocked voice.</p> + +<p>"It's a dreadful thing to have to say," Fawzi replied, "but you tell +me what Conn Maxwell or Rodney Maxwell are doing to help find it."</p> + +<p>"Who showed you where Force Command was?" Klem Zareff asked.</p> + +<p>Nobody could think of any good quick comeback to that.</p> + +<p>Conn took advantage of the pause to ask, "Why do you want to find +Merlin?"</p> + +<p>"Why do we ..." Fawzi spluttered indignantly. "If you don't know...."</p> + +<p>"I know why I do. I want to see if you do. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"Merlin would answer so many questions," Dolf Kellton told him gently. +"Questions I can't answer for myself."</p> + +<p>"With Merlin, we could set up a legal code and a system of +jurisprudence that would give everybody absolute justice," Judge Ledue +said.</p> + +<p>As if absolute justice wasn't the last thing anybody in his right +senses would want; a robot-judge would have the whole planet in jail +inside a month.</p> + +<p>"We have a man who joined us after you went off to Koshchei, Conn," +Franz Veltrin said. "A Mr. Carl Leibert. He's some kind of a +clergyman, from over Morven way. He says that Merlin could formulate +an entirely new religion, which would regenerate humanity."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't have any such lofty ideas," Fawzi said. "I just want +Merlin to show us how to get some prosperity here; bring things back +to what they were before Poictesme went broke."</p> + +<p>"And that's what Father and I are trying to do. You're going into the +woods with a book on how to chop down a tree, and no ax." Fawzi looked +at him in surprise, started to say something, and thought better of +it. "If we want prosperity, we need tools. Our problem is loss of +markets. If we find Merlin, and tape it with everything that's +happened in the forty years since it was shut down, Merlin will tell +us where to find new markets. But the markets won't come to us. We'll +have to do our own exporting, and we'll need<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> ships. Now, you men have +been studying about Merlin, and hunting for Merlin, all your lives. I +can't add anything to what you know, and neither can my father. You +find Merlin, and we'll have the ships ready when you do find it."</p> + +<p>"Kurt, I think he has a point," somebody said.</p> + +<p>"You're blasted well right he has," Klem Zareff put in. "If it wasn't +for Conn Maxwell, you know where we'd be? Back in Litchfield, sitting +around in Kurt's office, talking about how wonderful things'll be when +we find Merlin, and doing nothing to find it."</p> + +<p>"Kurt, I believe Conn is entitled to an apology," Judge Ledue ruled. +"How close we are to finding Merlin I don't know, but it is due to him +that we have any hope of finding it at all."</p> + +<p>"Conn, I'm sorry," Fawzi said. "I oughtn't to have said some of the +things I did. But we're all on edge; we've been having so much +trouble.... Conn, it's right there at Force Command; I know it is. +We've been all over the place. We have shafts sunk at each of the +corners; we've used scanners, and put off echo shots. Nothing. We +looked for additional passages out of the headquarters; there aren't +any. But it has to be somewhere around. It just <i>has</i> to be!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe if I go out to Force Command with you, I might see something +you've overlooked. And if I can't, I'll try to scrape up some stuff on +Koshchei for you. Deep-vein scanners, that sort of thing, from the +mines."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They took the <i>Lester Dawes</i> out at a little past noon and turned +south and east. Everybody aboard was happy—except Conn Maxwell. He +was thinking of the years and years ahead of these trusting, hopeful +old men, each year the grave of another expectation. Two hundred miles +from Force Command, the <i>Goblin</i> met them, her sides still spalled and +dented from the hits she had taken in Barathrum Spaceport. When they +came in sight of it, the mesa-top was deserted. Fawzi began wondering +where in Nifflheim all the drilling rigs, and the seismo-trucks, were. +Somebody with a pair of binoculars called attention to activity on the +side of the high<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> butte on top of which the relay station was located. +Fawzi began swearing exasperatedly.</p> + +<p>"Might be something Mr. Leibert thought of," Franz Veltrin suggested.</p> + +<p>"Then why in blazes didn't he screen us about it?"</p> + +<p>"Who is this Leibert?" Conn asked. "Somebody mentioned him this +morning, I think."</p> + +<p>"He joined us after you left, Conn," Dolf Kellton said. "He's a +clergyman from Morven. No regular denomination; he has a sect of his +own."</p> + +<p>"Yah, he would!" Klem Zareff rumbled. "Pious fraud!"</p> + +<p>"He's really a good man, Conn; Klem's prejudiced. He says we ought to +use Merlin to show us the true nature of God, and how to live in +accordance with the Divine Will. He says Merlin can teach us a new +religion."</p> + +<p>A new religion, based on Merlin; that would be good. And then the +fanatics who thought Merlin was the Devil would start a holy war to +wipe out the servants of Satan, and with all the combat equipment that +was lying around on this planet.... For the first time since this +business started, he began to feel really frightened.</p> + +<p>An aircar came bulleting away from the butte and landed on the mesa as +the <i>Lester Dawes</i> set down. The man who met them at the head of the +vertical shaft wore Federation fatigues—baggy trousers, ankle boots +and long smock, dyed black. He was bareheaded, and his white hair was +almost shoulder-long. He had a white beard.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Brothers," he greeted, a hand raised in benediction. "And +who is this with you?"</p> + +<p>His voice was high and quavery; not a good pulpit voice, Conn thought.</p> + +<p>Kurt Fawzi introduced Conn, and Leibert grasped his hand with a grip +that was considerably stronger than his voice.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, young man! It is to you alone that we owe our thanks that +we are about to find the Great Computer. Every sapient being in the +Galaxy will honor your name for a thousand years."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hadn't counted on quite that much, Mr. Leibert.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> If it'll only +help a few of these people to make a decent living I'll be satisfied."</p> + +<p>Leibert shook his head sadly. "You think entirely in material terms, +young man," he reproved. "Forget these things; acquire the higher +spiritual values. The Great Computer must not be degraded to such +uses; we should let it show us how to lift ourselves to a high +spiritual plane...."</p> + +<p>It went on like that, after they went down to Foxx Travis's—now +Fawzi's—office, where there were silver-stoppered decanters instead +of the old green-glass pitcher, and gold-plated ashtrays, and thick +carpets on the floor. The man was a lunatic; he made Fawzi's office +gang look frigidly sane. Furthermore, he was an ignoramus. He had no +idea what a computer could or couldn't do. Anybody who could build a +computer of the sort he thought Merlin was wouldn't need it, he +<i>would</i> be God.</p> + +<p>As he talked, Conn began to be nagged by an odd sense of recognition. +He'd seen this Carl Leibert before, somewhere, and somehow he was sure +that the long white hair and the untrimmed beard weren't part of the +picture. That puzzled him. He doubted if he'd have remembered Leibert +from six years ago, almost seven, now, though a lot of itinerant +evangelists showed up in Litchfield. That might have been it.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, the Great Computer is there, in the heart of the butte," +Leibert was insisting, now. "It has been revealed to me in a dream. It +is completely buried. After it was made, no human touched it. The men +who were here and used it in the War communicated with it only by +radio."</p> + +<p>That could be so. There were fully robotic computers, intended for use +in places where no human could go and live. There was a big one on +Nifflheim, armored against the fluorine atmosphere and the +hydrofluoric-acid rains. But there was no point in that here, the +things were enormously complicated, and military engineering of any +sort emphasized simplicity—<i>Aaaagh!</i> Was he beginning to believe this +balderdash himself?</p> + +<p>Klem Zareff fell in with him as they were going to dinner. "Revealed +in a dream!" the old Rebel snorted. "One thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> you can always get +away with lying about is what you dream."</p> + +<p>"You think he's lying? I think he's just crazy."</p> + +<p>"That's what he wants you to think. Look, Conn, he knows Merlin is +here; he's trying to keep us from it. That's why he shifted all that +equipment over on the butte. He's working for Sam Murchison."</p> + +<p>"I thought your theory was that the Federation had lost Merlin."</p> + +<p>"It was, at first. It doesn't look that way to me now. It's right here +at Force Command, somewhere. They don't want it found, and they're +going to do everything they can to stop us. I oughtn't to have left +this fellow Leibert here alone; well, I won't do that again. Get Tom +Brangwyn to help me."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + + +<p>The voyage back to Koshchei had been a week-long nightmare. When she +had been the pride and budget-wrecker of Transcontinent & Overseas +Airline, the <i>Harriet Barne</i> had accommodated two hundred first-class +and five hundred lower-deck passengers, but the conversion to a +spaceship had drastically reduced her capacity. The three hundred men +and women who had been recruited for the Koshchei colony had been +crammed into her with brutal disregard for comfort, privacy or +anything else except the ability of the air-recyclers to keep them +breathing. When Captain Nichols set her down at the administration +building at Port Carpenter, a few had had to be carried off, but they +were all alive, which made the trip an unqualified success.</p> + +<p>The dozen leaders of the expedition were congratulating themselves on +that in one of the executive offices after the first dinner at Port +Carpenter. Rodney Maxwell, in Storisende,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> had joined them in +screen-image; he was mostly listening, and sometimes contributing a +remark apropos of something the rest of them had said five minutes +ago.</p> + +<p>"Our hypership," Conn was saying, "is going to have to be item +two on the agenda. The first thing we need is a ship for the +Poictesme-Koshchei run. By this time next year, we ought to have a +thousand to fifteen hundred people here at the least. We can't haul +them all on that flying sardine can."</p> + +<p>"We'll need supplies, too. What was left here won't last forever," +Nichols added.</p> + +<p>"And you're going to have to run this at a profit," Luther Chen-Wong, +who had come along for first hand experience and to help with +administrative work, added. "You have a big payroll to meet, and +you'll have to keep the stockholders happy. People like Jethro +Sastraman and some of these Storisende bankers aren't going to be +satisfied with promises and long-term prospects; they'll want +dividends."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to get claims staked on something besides Port Carpenter, +too. Those ships that are building at Storisende will be finished +before long," Jerry Rivas said. "If we don't get some more things +claimed, the first thing you know, we'll own Port Carpenter and +nothing else."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's see what we can find in the way of a big airboat, or a +small ship," Conn said. "Jerry, you can pick a party for exploring. +Just zigzag around the planet and transmit in locations and views of +whatever you find, and we'll send it on to Storisende."</p> + +<p>"And don't pick anybody for your exploring party that can't be spared +from anything here," Jacquemont added. "We don't want to have to chase +you halfway around the world to bring back the only specialist in +something yesterday at the latest."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to come along, Conn?" Rivas asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, no! I'm going to be doing fifteen things at once here."</p> + +<p>All the computer work. Finding materials to make astrogational +equipment and robo-pilots. Studying hyperspace theory—fortunately, +there was an excellent library here—and setting up classes, and +teaching school. And keeping in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> touch with his father, on Poictesme. +It was making him nervous not to know what sort of foolishness the +older and wiser heads might be getting into.</p> + +<p>The next morning, they began organizing work-gangs and setting up +committees. Three men, two girls and about twenty robots got an +open-pit iron mine started; as soon as the steel mill was ready, ore +started coming in. Anse Dawes had a gang looking for something they +could build a 350-foot interplanetary ship out of; Jacquemont and Mack +Vibart were getting plans and specifications and making lists of +needed materials. Conn gathered a dozen men and women and started +classes in computer theory and practice; at the same time, he and +Charley Gatworth were teaching themselves and each other hyperspatial +astrogation, which was the art of tossing a ship into some +everythingless noplace outside normal space-time, and then pulling her +out again by her bootstraps at some other place in the normal +continuum, light-years away.</p> + +<p>Roughly, it compared to shooting hummingbirds on the wing, +blindfolded, with a not particularly accurate pistol, from a +mile-a-minute merry-go-round.</p> + +<p>That was something you could only do with a computer. A human, with a +slide rule, a pencil and pad, could figure it out, of course—if he +had fifty-odd thousand years to do it. A good computer did it in +thirty seconds. That was one difference between people and computers. +The other difference was that the desirability of making a hyperspace +jump would never occur to a computer, unless somebody pushed a button +and taped in instructions.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They found a three-hundred-foot globular skeleton, probably the +nucleus of a big hyperspace ship, and decided that was big enough for +what they wanted. The entire colony got to work on it. Photoprinted +plans and specifications poured out as Jacquemont and a couple of +draftsmen got them up. Steel came out of the steel mill at one end +while ore came in at the other. A swarm of big contragravity machines, +some robotic and some human-operated, clustered around the skeletal +hull like hornets building a nest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>Trisystem & Interstellar Spacelines was chartered; the lawyers +reported having to overcome a little more resistance than usual from +the Government about that. And the bill to nationalize Merlin, which +had died in committee, was resuscitated and was being debated hotly on +the floor of Parliament. The Administration was now supporting it.</p> + +<p>"Are they completely crazy?" Conn wanted to know, when he heard about +that. "They pass that bill and nobody's going to look for Merlin if +they know the Government will snatch it as soon as they find it."</p> + +<p>"That is precisely Jake Vyckhoven's idea," his father replied. "I told +you he was afraid of Merlin. He's getting more afraid of it every +day."</p> + +<p>He had reason to. There was a growing sentiment in favor of turning +the entire Government over to the computer as soon as it was found. To +his horror, Conn heard himself named as chairman of a committee that +should be set up to operate it. The moderates, who had merely wanted +Merlin used in an advisory capacity, were dropping out; the agitation +was coming from extremists who wanted Merlin to be the whole +Government, and now the extremists were developing an extreme wing of +their own, who called themselves Cybernarchists and started wearing +colored-shirt uniforms and greeting each other with an archaic +stiff-arm salute, and the words, "Hail Merlin!"</p> + +<p>And the followers of the gospel-shouter on the west coast were now +cropping up all over the mainland, and on the continent of Acaire to +the north, and another cult, non-religious, was convinced that Merlin +was a living machine, with conscious intelligence of its own and +awesome psi-powers, a sort of super-Golem, which, if found and +awakened, would enslave the whole Galaxy. Fortunately, these two hated +each other as venomously as both did the Cybernarchists, and spent +most of their energies attacking each other's meetings. The +news-services were beginning to publish casualty lists, some heavy +enough for outpost fighting between a couple of regular armies.</p> + +<p>One thing, it helped the employment situation. Everybody was hiring +mercenaries.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what," Conn asked, "are the sane people doing?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to know," his father told him. "I suspect that you have all +of them on Koshchei now."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The sane people, if that was what they were, were being busy. They +were putting a set of Abbott lift-and-drive engines together, and +Conn's computer class was estimating the mass of the finished ship and +the amount of energy needed to overcome gravitation and give it +constant acceleration from Koshchei to Poictesme. They were learning, +by trial and error, largely error, how to build a set of pseudograv +engines. And they were putting together a hundred and one other +things, all of which was good training for the time they'd be ready to +start work on <i>Ouroboros II</i>.</p> + +<p>Jerry Rivas had found a contragravity craft which seemed to have been +used by some top official for business and inspection trips, had +gathered a crew of non-specialists who weren't urgently needed at Port +Carpenter, and set out to circumnavigate the planet. It worked just +the reverse of expectation. He found a big uranium mine, with an +isotope-separation plant and a battery of plutonium-breeders; that +meant that Mohammed Matsui and half a dozen other nuclear-power people +had to get into another boat and speed after him to see what he had +really found. As soon as they landed, Rivas took off again to discover +a copper mine and a complex of smelters and processing plants. That +took a few more experts, or reasonable facsimiles, away from Port +Carpenter. And then he found a whole city that manufactured nothing +but computers and robo-controls and things like that.</p> + +<p>Conn loaded his whole computer-theory class onto a freight-scow and +took them there. By the time he landed, his father was screening him +from Storisende.</p> + +<p>"When are you going to get the ship finished?" he was asking. "Kurt +Fawzi's pestering the daylights out of me. He wants that equipment you +promised him."</p> + +<p>"We're working on it. What's happened, has Carl Leibert had another +revelation?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that. Kurt's sure Merlin is directly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> under Force +Command. And speaking about Leibert, Klem Zareff's been after me about +him. You know I've contracted for the full-time and exclusive services +of this Barton-Massarra detective agency. Well, Klem wants me to put +them to work investigating Leibert."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know; Leibert's a Terran Federation spy. Why do you need the +full-time services of the biggest private detective agency on +Poictesme?"</p> + +<p>"There have been some odd things happening. People have been trying to +bribe and intimidate some of my office help. I have found microphones +and screen-pickups planted around. I caught one of our clerks trying +to make copies of voice-tapes. I think it's some of these other +Merlin-chasing companies, trying to find out how close we are to it. +Klem Zareff is recruiting more guards. But how soon are you going to +get that ship built?"</p> + +<p>"We're working on it. That's all I know, now."</p> + +<p>He went back to work getting a classroom ready for his students. If +he'd accepted that instructorship at Montevideo, he wouldn't be a full +professor now, but none of the rest of this would be happening, +either.</p> + +<p>That night, he had the dream about starting the big machine and not +being able to stop it again.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There was street-fighting in Storisende between the Cybernarchists and +Government troops. There was a pitched battle in the west between the +Armageddonists (Merlin-is-Satan) and the Human Supremacy League +(Merlin-is-the-Golem), with heavy losses and claims of victory on both +sides. President Vyckhoven proclaimed planet-wide martial law, and +then discovered that he had nothing to enforce it with.</p> + +<p>Luther Chen-Wong screened him from Port Carpenter. His voice was +almost inaudibly low at first.</p> + +<p>"Conn, I just had a call from Jerry and Clyde. I think we can knock +off work on that ship we're building now. We won't need it."</p> + +<p>"Have they found a ship?" If they had, it would be the first one +anybody had found. "Where?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They haven't found <i>a</i> ship, Conn; they've found all of them. All the +ships in the Alpha System except the <i>Harriet Barne</i> and the two +they're building at Storisende. The place is marked on the map as +Sickle Mountain Naval Observatory. It's just a bitty little dot, but +the map was made before the evacuation started. It's where most of the +troops in the system were embarked on hyperships, I think. Wait till I +show you the views."</p> + +<p>Conn put on another screen; the first view was from an altitude of +five miles. He didn't need Luther's voice to identify Sickle Mountain; +a long curve, with a spur at right angles to one end, the name must +have suggested itself to whoever saw it first. The observatory had +been built where the handle of the sickle joined the blade; as the +ship from which the view had been taken had approached, the details +grew plainer. At the same time, it became evident that the plain +inside the curve of the sickle was powdered with tiny sparkles, like +tinsel dust on red-brown velvet.</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu, are those all ships?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. Look at this one, now."</p> + +<p>The view changed. The aircraft was down, now, below the crest of the +mountain, circling slowly above the plain. Hundreds, no, over a +thousand, of them; two- and three-and five-hundred-footers, and here +and there a thousand-footer that could have been converted into a +hypership if anybody had wanted to take the trouble. The view changed +again; this time from an aircar dropped from the ship, he supposed; it +was down almost to the tops of the ships, and he could read names and +home ports: <i>Pixie</i>, Chloris; <i>Helen O'Loy</i>, Anaïtis. They were from +Jurgen. <i>Sky-Rover</i>, Port Saunders; she was from Horvendile. Ships +from Storisende, and Yellowmarsh on Janicot, and....</p> + +<p>"Now we know where they all went."</p> + +<p>It was logical, of course. Most of the hyperships used in the +evacuation had been built here. It had been less trouble to lead the +troops and the civilian workers from Poictesme and the other planets +onto small normal-space ships and bring them here than to take the big +ships away on short interplanetary runs to the other planets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you screened my father yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. This is going to knock the bottom out of the companies that are +building those ships at Storisende, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Their tough luck."</p> + +<p>"It could be everybody's tough luck. Both those companies have been +issuing stock, and there's been a lot of speculation in it. This +market's so inflated now that a puncture at one place might blow the +whole thing out."</p> + +<p>He knew that. He shrugged. "Father will have to think of something. +Tell him I'll screen him from Sickle Mountain."</p> + +<p>Then he went back to his classroom.</p> + +<p>"All right, class dismissed," he said. "You have twenty minutes to get +your bags packed. We're going to work for real, now."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Airboats and airships flocked to Sickle Mountain; some of them +hastened back to Port Carpenter for loads of food, for there was none +in the storehouses at the embarkation camp. They inspected ship after +ship, and chose two three-hundred-footers. They sent airships and +freight-scows to the dozen-odd cities and industrial centers that had +been already explored, to gather cargo, as far as possible the items +in shortest supply on Poictesme.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about a market smash," his father told him. "We have that +taken care of. Trisystem Investments has just bought up a lot of stock +in both of those companies, and we've set up agreements with +them—informally, of course; we'll have to get them voted on by our +own companies—to sell them ships from Koshchei. In return, the +company that's building the ship out of four air-freighters will go to +Janicot, and the company that's building a ship out of the old +Leitzenring Building will go to Jurgen, and they'll both stay off +Koshchei. Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong will probably be defending +antitrust suits till the end of time. The Planetary Government has +stopped liking us, you know."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll have to get one that will like us. There'll be an election +about this time next year, won't there?"</p> + +<p>His father nodded. "To use one of your expressions, we're working on +it. How soon can you get your ships in?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well be loaded and ready to lift off in a week. Another week for the +trip."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't forget that equipment you promised Kurt Fawzi."</p> + +<p>"We'll have that on. Jerry Rivas is gathering it up now."</p> + +<p>"How are you fixed for arms on Koshchei?"</p> + +<p>"Arms? Why, there are some. There was a pretty big force of Space +Marines on duty here, and they left everything they couldn't carry in +their hands. Why? The Armageddonists and the Cybernarchists and Human +Supremacy bought all you had on hand?"</p> + +<p>"They're buying, but I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking that +your crews might need something to argue their way off the ships at +Storisende with. Things are getting just slightly rugged here, now."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + + +<p>There were no bands or speeches when they came in this time. A lot of +contragravity vehicles circled widely around the spaceport, but except +for a few news-service cars, the police were keeping them back of a +two-mile radius around the landing-pits. A couple of gunboats were +making tight circles above, and on the dock were more vehicles and a +horde of police and guards.</p> + +<p>When Rodney Maxwell came across the bridge from the dock after they +opened the airlocks, he was followed by a dozen Barton-Massarra +private police, as villainous-looking a collection of ruffians as Conn +had ever seen. He was wearing a new suit, with a waist-length jacket +instead of the long coat he usually wore, and there was a holstered +automatic on each hip. In Litchfield, he never carried more than one +pistol, and Storisende was supposed to be an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> orderly place where +nobody needed to go armed. More than anything else, that told Conn +approximately what had been going on while he had been on Koshchei.</p> + +<p>"Ship-guard," his father told Yves Jacquemont. "All your crew can come +off; they'll take care of things. Get your people in that troop +carrier over there. Everybody will stay at Interplanetary Building. +None of the hotels are safe, not even the Ritz-Gartner. And be sure +everybody's well armed when they come off the ship."</p> + +<p>Jacquemont nodded. "I know the drill; I've been in Port Oberth on +Venus and Skorvann on Loki. Any law we want, we make for ourselves."</p> + +<p>"That's about it. I'll see you there. Conn, I wish you'd come with me. +Somebody here wants to talk to you."</p> + +<p>He wondered if his mother, or Flora, had come to Storisende. When he +asked his father as they crossed onto the dock, there was a brief +twinge of pain in Rodney Maxwell's face.</p> + +<p>"No, they're not having anything to do—<i>Duck; quick!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then his father was diving under a lifter-truck that stood empty on +the dock. The private police were scattering for cover, and an +auto-cannon began pom-pomming. Conn took one quick look in the +direction in which it was firing, saw an aircar that had broken +through the police line and was rushing toward them, and dived under +the lifter after his father. As he did, he saw a missile flash out +from one of the gunboats like a thrown knife. Then he huddled beside +his father and put his arms over his head.</p> + +<p>He felt the heat and shock of the explosion and, an instant later, +heard the roar. When nothing immediately disastrous happened after he +had counted fifteen seconds, he stuck his head out and looked up. The +gunboat was struggling to regain her equilibrium, and the aircar had +vanished in a fireball. They both emerged, straightening. His father +was brushing himself with his hands and saying something about always +having to duck under something when he had a new suit on.</p> + +<p>"Robot control, probably; could have been launched from anywhere in +town. Why, no; your mother and Flora aren't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> speaking to either of us, +any more. Pity, of course, but I'm glad they're in Litchfield. It's a +little healthier there."</p> + +<p>They walked to the slim recon-car and climbed in, pulling the door +shut after them. Wade Lucas was waiting for them at the controls.</p> + +<p>"There, you see!" he began, as soon as he had the car lifting. "What +I've been telling you. We'll have to stop this."</p> + +<p>"Conn, meet our new partner. I told him everything you told me, out on +the Mall, the day you came home. I had to," his father hastened to +add. "He'd figured most of it out for himself. The only thing to do +was admit him to the lodge and give him the oath."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know about General Travis; I didn't even know he was still +alive," Lucas said. "But the rest of it was pretty obvious, once I +stopped jumping to conclusions and did a little thinking. You know, +ever since I came here I've been preaching to these people to stop +looking for Merlin and do something to help themselves. You're smarter +than I am, Conn; instead of opposing them, you're guiding them."</p> + +<p>"Did you tell Flora?"</p> + +<p>Lucas shook his head. "I tried to explain what you're trying to do, +but she wouldn't listen. She just told me I'd gotten to be as big a +crook as you two." He had the car up to fifty thousand; putting it +into a wide circle around the city, he locked the controls and got out +his cigarettes. "Rod, we've got to stop this. You were just lucky this +time. Some of these days your luck's going to run out."</p> + +<p>"How can we stop?" Conn demanded. "Tell them the truth? They'd lynch +us, and then go on hunting for Merlin."</p> + +<p>"Worse than that; it'd be a smash worse than the one when the War +ended. I was only ten then, but I can remember that very plainly. We +can't stop it, and we wouldn't dare stop it if we could."</p> + +<p>"What's been going on here in the last month?" Conn asked. "I've been +too busy to keep in touch. I know there's been rioting, and these +crackpot sects, but...."</p> + +<p>"I think this is personal to us. There have been some ugly things +happening. There were four attempts to burglarize our offices. I told +you about some of the other stuff, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> microphones we found, and so +on. The worst thing was Lucy Nocero, my secretary. She just vanished, +a couple of weeks ago. Three days later, the police found her +wandering in a park, a complete imbecile. Somebody who either didn't +know how to use one or didn't care what happened had used a mind-probe +on her. It's twenty to one she'll never recover."</p> + +<p>"It's this Storisende financial crowd," Wade Lucas said. "They had +things all their own way till Alpha-Interplanetary was organized. Now +they're getting shoved into the background, and they don't like it."</p> + +<p>"They're making more money than they ever did, and they just love it," +Rodney Maxwell said. "I'd think it was either Jake Vyckhoven or Sam +Murchison."</p> + +<p>"Murchison!" Lucas hooted. "Why, he's nobody! Federation +Minister-General; all the authority of the Terran Federation, and +nothing to enforce it with. He doesn't have a position, here; he has a +disease. Sleeping sickness."</p> + +<p>"He certainly doesn't believe there is a Merlin, does he?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what he believes, but he's getting to be Klem Zareff's +opposite number. He thinks this whole thing's a plot against the +Federation. It's a good thing Klem didn't get around to repainting his +combat vehicles black and green, the way he did the Home Guard stuff +at Litchfield."</p> + +<p>"I'd be more likely to think it was Vyckhoven."</p> + +<p>"Could be. Or it could be the Armageddonists, or Human Supremacy; I am +ashamed to say that this heil-Merlin Cybernarchist gang are friendly +to us. Or it could be some of the banking crowd, or some of these +rival space-companies. Barton-Massarra is trying to find out. Well, we +have some of Wade's pet suspects at Interplanetary Building now. +There's been a meeting going for the last week to partition the Alpha +Gartner System."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The Interplanetary Building had been a medium-class residence hotel at +the time of the War. Junior staff officers and civilian technicians +and their families had lived there. It had been vacant ever since the +disastrous outbreak of peace. Now it had a big new fluorolite sign, +and housed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> offices of all the Maxwell companies. There was a +truculent display of anti-vehicle weapons on the top landing stage, +and more Barton-Massarra private police. They looked even more +villainous then the ones at the spaceport. Conn recalled having heard +that most of the Blackie Perales gang had been discharged for lack of +evidence; he wondered how many of them had hired with Barton-Massarra.</p> + +<p>The meeting was in a big conference room six floors down; it had been +going on uninterrupted for days, with all the interested companies' +representatives standing watch-and-watch around the clock. Lester +Dawes and Morgan Gatworth and Lorenzo Menardes were there for L. E. & +S.; Transcontinent & Overseas was represented; there were people from +Alpha-Interplanetary, and bankers and financiers, and people from the +companies building the two ships at the spaceport. And J. Fitzwilliam +Sterber, the lawyer.</p> + +<p>And reporters, phoning stories in and getting audiovisual interviews +of anybody who would hold still long enough. They converged in a rush +as Conn and his father and Lucas came in.</p> + +<p>"No statement, gentlemen!" Rodney Maxwell shouted, above the babble of +their questions. "When we have anything to release, it will be +released to all of you."</p> + +<p>Jacquemont and Nichols had already arrived; Lucas went to them and +began talking about stevedores and lifters to get off the cargoes from +the ships. Conn hastened to join them.</p> + +<p>"The scanning and mining equipment aboard the <i>Helen O'Loy</i>," he said. +"That shouldn't be unloaded here; we'll take the ship out to Force +Command and unload it there."</p> + +<p>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw, a lurking reporter snatch the +handphone off his radio and begin talking; it would be stated +authoritatively that Merlin was at Force Command and would be +uncovered as soon as special equipment from Koshchei arrived.</p> + +<p>Everybody at the long table was shouting at everybody else. The Jurgen +and Janicot Companies wanted to buy ships from Koshchei Exploitation & +Development. The Alpha-Interplanetary director, who was also a +vice-president<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> of Transcontinent & Overseas, opposed that; another +director of A-I, who was also board chairman of Koshchei Exploitation +& Development, wanted to sell ships to anybody who had the price, the +Transcontinent & Overseas man was calling him a traitor to the +company, and one of the stockbrokers, who was also a vice-president of +Trisystem Investments and a director of Trisystem & Interstellar +Spacelines, was wanting to know which company. And a banker who was +stockholder in all the companies was shouting that they were all a +gang of crooks, and J. Fitzwilliam Sterber was declaring that anybody +who called him a crook could continue the discussion through seconds.</p> + +<p>Conn suddenly realized that dueling had never been illegal on +Poictesme. He wondered how many duels this meeting was going to hatch.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next afternoon the <i>Helen O'Loy</i> was unloaded, all but the mining +equipment; Conn and Yves Jacquemont and Charley Gatworth and a few +others took her out to Force Command. They were met by Klem Zareff's +armed airboats two hundred and fifty miles from the mesa, and they +found the place in more of a state of siege than when the Badlands had +been full of outlaws. A lot of heavy armament seemed to have been +moved in from Barathrum Spaceport, and Zareff had more men and +firepower than he had ever commanded during the System States War. If +Minister-General Murchison was convinced that the Merlin excitement +was a cover for some seditious plot against the Federation, this ought +to give him food for thought.</p> + +<p>There was still work, mostly boring lateral shafts for echo shots, +going on at the butte, under the relay station. That was Leibert, who +was still insisting that that was where Merlin was buried. There was +also some work on top of the mesa, by those who were convinced that +that was where Merlin was to be found. Kurt Fawzi was taking the lead +in that. Franz Veltrin and Dolf Kellton sided with Leibert, and +Fawzi's office clique had split into two factions. Judge Ledue was +maintaining strict impartiality, as befitted his judicial position.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why hasn't your father gotten those detectives of his to work on this +fake preacher?" Zareff wanted to know, when he and Tom Brangwyn were +able to talk to Conn alone.</p> + +<p>"Well, they've been busy," Conn said. "Trying to keep him alive, for +one thing. You heard about the robo-bomb somebody launched at us the +day we brought the ships in, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we heard about the Nocero girl, too," Brangwyn said. "But +hasn't it ever occurred to you or your dad that this fellow that calls +himself Leibert might be mixed up with the gang that did that?"</p> + +<p>"You suspect him, too?"</p> + +<p>Brangwyn nodded. "I took a few audiovisuals of him, when he didn't +know it; I sent them to some different law-enforcement people over in +Morven, where he says he comes from. They never saw him before, and +couldn't find anybody who did."</p> + +<p>"Well? He just doesn't have a police record, then."</p> + +<p>"He says he's a preacher. Preachers don't go off in the woods by +themselves to preach; they get up in pulpits, in front of a lot of +people. Those towns over in Morven are small enough for everybody to +have known something about him. He's a fake, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"Let me have copies of those audiovisuals, Tom. I'll see what can be +found out about him. I'm beginning to wonder about him myself. I'm +sure I've seen him, somewhere...."</p> + +<p>When he got back to Storisende, he found that the marathon conference +on the sixth floor down at the Interplanetary Building had finally +come to an end. Everybody seemed satisfied, and apparently nobody was +going to have pistols and coffee with anybody else about it.</p> + +<p>"We have things fixed up," his father told him. "The gang who are +building the ship out of four air-freighters are chartered as Janicot +Industries, Ltd.; they're going to specialize in chemical products. +The other company has a charter now, too. They're going to operate on +Jurgen and Horvendile. We'll sell them ships, and Alpha-Interplanetary +will put on scheduled trips to all three planets and also Koshchei. +We're getting along very nicely with them, except<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> that everybody's +competing for technicians and skilled labor. We have two hundred more +people signed up for Koshchei. What you want to do is train as many of +them as you can for ship-operation. Alpha-Interplanetary is going to +start a training program here at Storisende; you'd better leave one of +your ships for them to work on, and send back as many ships as you can +find officers and crews for."</p> + +<p>"We're getting things really started."</p> + +<p>"Yes. The only trouble is...." His father frowned. "I don't understand +these people, Conn. Everybody ought to be making millions out of this +by this time next year, but all any of them, even these Storisende +bankers, can talk about is how soon we're going to find Merlin."</p> + +<p>"I wish we could stop that, somehow. Listen; I have it. Merlin never +was on Poictesme; Merlin was a space-station a few thousand miles +off-planet; there was a crew of operators aboard, and they +communicated with Force Command by radio. When the War ended, they +took it outside the system and shot off a planetbuster inside her. No +more Merlin. How would that be?"</p> + +<p>His father shook his head. "Wouldn't do. If anybody believed it, which +I doubt, they'd just quit. The market would collapse, everybody would +be broke, it would just be the end of the War all over again. Conn, we +can't let it stop now. We're going too fast to stop; if we tried it, +we'd smash up and break our necks."</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + + +<p>Jerry Rivas, Mack Vibart and Luther Chen-Wong had been keeping things +running on Koshchei. Work on the interplanetary ship at Port +Carpenter had stopped when the Sickle Mountain ships had been found; +it had never been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> resumed. When Conn returned, he found work started +on the <i>Ouroboros II</i>. Some of the two hundred newcomers who came in +on the <i>Helen O'Loy</i> had special skills needed on the hypership; most +of them went with Clyde Nichols and Charley Gatworth to Sickle +Mountain to train as normal-space officers and crewmen. Some of them, +it was hoped, would later qualify for hyperspace work. Sylvie, who had +been one of the star pupils in the computer class, was now helping him +with the long lists of needed materials, some of which had to be +brought from other places as much as a thousand miles away. Jerry +Rivas went back to exploring; Nichols had to drop his space-training +work temporarily to organize a fleet of air-freighters; usually, the +men best able to operate them were urgently needed on some job at the +construction dock.</p> + +<p>Ships lifted out almost daily from Sickle Mountain. They tried to get +some kind of salable cargo for each one, without depriving themselves +of what they needed for themselves. Some of the ships came back loaded +with provisions and bringing new recruits—for instance, the teaching +of physics and mathematics almost stopped at Storisende College +because the professors had been virtually shanghaied.</p> + +<p>Conn found himself losing touch with affairs on Poictesme. Ships had +landed on both Janicot and Horvendile and were sending back claims to +abandoned factories. By that time they had all the decks into the +<i>Ouroboros II</i>, and he was working aboard, getting the astrogational +and hyperspace instruments put in place. The hypership <i>Andromeda</i> was +back from the Gamma System; there was close secrecy about what the +expedition had found, but the newscasts were full of conjectures about +Merlin, and the market went into another dizzy upward spiral. +Litchfield Exploration & Salvage opened a huge munitions depot, and +combat equipment, once almost unsalable, was selling as fast as it +came out. The Government was buying some, but by no means all of it.</p> + +<p>"Conn, can you come back here to Poictesme for a while?" his father +asked. "Things have turned serious. I don't like to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> talk about it by +screen—too many people know our scrambler combinations. But I wish +you were here."</p> + +<p>He started to object; there were millions, well, a couple of hundred, +things he had to attend to. The look on his father's face stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Ship leaving Sickle Mountain tomorrow morning," he said. "I'll be +aboard."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The voyage back to Poictesme was a needed rest. He felt refreshed when +he got off at Storisende Spaceport and was met by his father and Wade +Lucas in one of the slim recon-cars. They greeted him briefly and took +the car up and away from the city, where it was safe to talk.</p> + +<p>"Conn, I'm scared," his father said. "I'm beginning to think there +really is a Merlin, after all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come off it! I know it's contagious, but I thought you'd been +vaccinated."</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to think so, too," Lucas said. "I don't like it at +all."</p> + +<p>"You know what that gang who took the <i>Andromeda</i> to Panurge found?"</p> + +<p>"They were looking for the plant that fabricated the elements for +Merlin, weren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They found it. My Barton-Massarra operatives got to some of the +crew. This place had been turning out material for a computer of +absolutely unconventional design; the two computermen they had with +them couldn't make head or tail of half of it. And every blueprint, +every diagram, every scrap of writing or recording, had been +destroyed. But they found one thing, a big empty fiber folder that had +fallen under something and been overlooked. It was marked: <span class="smcap">TOP +SECRET. PROJECT MERLIN.</span>"</p> + +<p>"Project Merlin could have been anything," Conn started to say. No. +Project Merlin was something they made computer parts for.</p> + +<p>"Dolf Kellton's research crew, at the Library here, came across some +references to Project Merlin, too. For instance, there was a routine +division court-martial, a couple of second lieutenants, on a very +trivial charge. Force Command<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> ordered the court-martial stopped, and +the two officers simply dropped out of the Third Force records, it was +stated that they were engaged in work connected with Project Merlin. +That's an example; there were half a dozen things like that."</p> + +<p>"Tell him what Kurt Fawzi and his crew found," Wade Lucas said.</p> + +<p>"Yes. They have a fifty-foot shaft down from the top of the mesa +almost to the top of the underground headquarters. They found +something on top of the headquarters; a disc-shaped mass, fifty feet +thick and a hundred across, armored in collapsium. It's directly over +what used to be Foxx Travis's office."</p> + +<p>"That's not a tenth big enough for anything that could even resemble +Merlin."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's something. I was out there day before yesterday. They're +down to the collapsium on top of this thing; I rode down the shaft in +a jeep and looked at it. Look, Conn, we don't know what this Project +Merlin was; all this lore about Merlin that's grown up since the War +is pure supposition."</p> + +<p>"But Foxx Travis told me, categorically, that there was no Merlin +Project," Conn said. "The War's been over forty years; it's not a +military secret any longer. Why would he lie to me?"</p> + +<p>"Why did you lie to Kurt Fawzi and the others and tell them there was +a Merlin? You lied because telling the truth would hurt them. Maybe +Travis had the same reason for lying to you. Maybe Merlin's too +dangerous for anybody to be allowed to find."</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu, are you beginning to think Merlin is the Devil, or +Frankenstein's Monster?"</p> + +<p>"It might be something just as bad. Maybe worse. I don't think a man +like Foxx Travis would lie if he didn't have some overriding moral +obligation to."</p> + +<p>"And we know who's been making most of the trouble for us, too," Lucas +added.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Rodney Maxwell said, "we do. And sometime I'm going to invite +Klem Zareff to kick my pants-seat. Sam Murchison, the Terran +Federation Minister-General."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How'd you get that?"</p> + +<p>"Barton-Massarra got some of it; they have an operative planted in +Murchison's office. And some of our banking friends got the rest. This +Human Supremacy League is being financed by somebody. Every so often, +their treasurer makes a big deposit at one of the banks here, all +Federation currency, big denomination notes. When I asked them to, +they started keeping a record of the serial numbers and checking +withdrawals. The money was paid out, at the First Planetary Bank, to +Mr. Samuel S. Murchison, in person. The Armegeddonists are getting +money, too, but they're too foxy to put theirs through the banks. I +believe they're the ones who mind-probed Lucy Nocero. Barton-Massarra +believe, but they can't prove, that Human Supremacy launched that +robo-bomb at us, that time at the spaceport."</p> + +<p>"Have you done anything with those audiovisuals of Leibert?"</p> + +<p>"Gave them to Barton-Massarra. They haven't gotten anything, yet."</p> + +<p>"So we have to admit that Klem wasn't crazy after all. What do you +want me to do?"</p> + +<p>"Go out to Force Command and take charge. We have to assume that there +may be a Merlin, we have to assume that it may be dangerous, and we +have to assume that Kurt Fawzi and his covey of Merlinolators are just +before digging it up. Your job is to see that whatever it is doesn't +get loose."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The trouble was, if he started giving orders around Force Command he'd +stop being a brilliant young man and become a half-baked kid, and one +word from him and the older and wiser heads would do just what they +pleased. He wondered if the pro-Leibert and anti-Leibert factions were +still squabbling; maybe if he went out of his way to antagonize one +side, he'd make allies of the other. He took the precaution of +screening in, first; Kurt Fawzi, with whom he talked, was almost +incoherent with excitement. At least, he was reasonably sure that none +of Klem Zareff's trigger-happy mercenaries would shoot him down coming +in.</p> + +<p>The well, fifty feet in diameter, went straight down from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> the top of +the mesa; as the headquarters had been buried under loose rubble, +they'd had to vitrify the sides going down. He let down into the hole +in a jeep, and stood on the collapsium roof of whatever it was they +had found. It wasn't the top of the headquarters itself; the microray +scannings showed that. It was a drum-shaped superstructure, a sort of +underground penthouse. And there they were stopped. You didn't cut +collapsium with a cold chisel, or even an atomic torch. He began to +see how he was going to be able to take charge here.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"You haven't found any passage leading into it?" he asked, when they +were gathered in Fawzi's—formerly Foxx Travis's—office.</p> + +<p>"Nifflheim, no! If we had, we'd be inside now." Tom Brangwyn swore. +"And we've been all over the ceiling in here, and we can't find +anything but vitrified rock and then the collapsium shielding."</p> + +<p>"Sure. There are collapsium-cutters, at Port Carpenter, on Koshchei. +They do it with cosmic rays."</p> + +<p>"But collapsium will stop cosmic rays," Zareff objected.</p> + +<p>"Stop them from penetrating, yes. A collapsium-cutter doesn't +penetrate; it abrades. Throws out a rotary beam and works like a +grinding-wheel, or a buzz-saw."</p> + +<p>"Well, could you get one down that hole?" Judge Ledue asked.</p> + +<p>He laughed. "No. The thing is rather too large. In the first place, +there's a full-sized power-reactor, and a mass-energy converter. With +them, you produce negamatter—atoms with negatively charged protons +and positive electrons, positrons. Then, you have to bring them into +contact with normal positive-matter—That's done in a chamber the size +of a fifty-gallon barrel, made of collapsium and weighing about a +hundred tons. Then you have to have a pseudograv field to impart +rotary motion to your cosmic-ray beam, and the generator door that +would lift ten ships the size of the <i>Lester Dawes</i>. Then you need +another fifty to a hundred tons of collapsium to shield your +cutting-head. The cutting-head alone weighs three tons. The rotary +beam that does<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> the cutting," he mentioned as an afterthought, "is +about the size of a silver five-centisol piece."</p> + +<p>Nobody said anything for a few seconds. Carl Leibert stated that +Divine Power would aid them. Nobody paid much attention; Leibert's +stock seemed to have gone bearish since he had found nothing in the +butte and Fawzi had found that whatever-it-was on top of Force +Command.</p> + +<p>"Means we're going to dig the whole blasted top off, clear down to +where that thing is," Zareff said. "That'll take a year."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Maybe a couple of weeks, after we get started," Conn told +them. "It'll take longer to get the stuff loaded on a ship and hauled +here than it will to get that thing uncovered and opened."</p> + +<p>He told them about the machines they used in the iron mines on +Koshchei, and as he talked, he stopped worrying about how he was going +to take charge here. He had just been unanimously elected +Indispensable Man.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, young man!" Carl Leibert cried. "At last, the Great +Computer! Those who come after will reckon this the Year Zero of the +Age of Regeneration. I will go to my chamber and return thanks in +prayer."</p> + +<p>"He's been doing a lot of praying lately," Tom Brangwyn remarked, +after Leibert had gone out. "He's moved into the chaplain's quarters, +back of the pandenominational chapel on the fourth level down. Always +keeps his door locked, too."</p> + +<p>"Well, if he wants privacy for his devotions, that's his business. +Maybe we could all do with a little prayer," Veltrin said.</p> + +<p>"Probably praying to Sam Murchison by radio," Klem Zareff retorted. +"I'd like to see inside those rooms of his."</p> + +<p>He called Yves Jacquemont at Port Carpenter after dinner. When he told +Jacquemont what he wanted and why, the engineer remarked that it was a +pity screens couldn't be fitted with olfactory sensors, so that he +could smell Conn's breath.</p> + +<p>"I am not drunk. I am not crazy. And I am not exercising my sense of +humor. I don't know what Fawzi and his gang have here, but if it isn't +Merlin it's something just as hot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> We want at it, soonest, and we'll +have to dig a couple of hundred feet of rock off it and open a +collapsium can."</p> + +<p>"How are we going to get that stuff on a ship?"</p> + +<p>"Anything been done to that normal-space job we started since I saw it +last? Can you find engines for it? And is there anything about those +mining machines or the cutter that would be damaged by space-radiation +or re-entry heat?"</p> + +<p>Yves Jacquemont was silent for a good deal longer than the +interplanetary time-lag warranted. Finally he nodded.</p> + +<p>"I get it, Conn. We won't put the things in a ship; we'll build a ship +around them. No; that stuff can all be hauled open to space. They use +things like that at space stations and on asteroids and all sorts of +places. We'll have to stop work on <i>Ouroboros</i>, though."</p> + +<p>"Let <i>Ouroboros</i> wait. We are going to dig up Merlin, and then +everybody is going to be rich and happy, and live happily forever +after."</p> + +<p>Jacquemont looked at him, silent again for longer than the usual five +and a half minutes.</p> + +<p>"You almost said that with a straight face." After all, Jacquemont +hadn't been cleared yet for the Awful Truth About Merlin, but, like +his daughter, he'd been doing some guessing. "I wish I knew how much +of this Merlin stuff you believe."</p> + +<p>"So do I, Yves. Maybe after we get this thing open, I'll know."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>To give himself a margin of safety, Jacquemont had estimated the +arrival of the equipment at three weeks. A week later, he was +on-screen to report that the skeleton ship—they had christened her +<i>The Thing</i>, and when Conn saw screen views of her he understood +why—was finished and the collapsium-cutter and two big mining +machines were aboard. Evidently nobody on Koshchei had done a stroke +of work on anything else.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie's coming along with her; so are Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes and +Ham Matsui and Gomez and Karanja and four or five others. They'll be +ready to go to work as soon as she lands and unloads," Jacquemont +added.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>That was good; they were all his own people, unconnected with any of +the Merlin-hunting factions at Force Command. In case trouble started, +he could rely on them.</p> + +<p>"Well, dig out some shootin'-irons for them," he advised. "They may +need them here."</p> + +<p>Depending, of course, on what they found when they opened that +collapsium can on top of Force Command, and how the people there +reacted to it.</p> + +<p><i>The Thing</i> took a hundred and seventy hours to make the trip; +conditions in the small shielded living quarters and control cabin +were apparently worse than on the <i>Harriet Barne</i> on her second trip +to Koschchei. Everybody at Force Command was anxious and excited. Carl +Leibert kept to his quarters most of the time, as though he had to +pray the ship across space.</p> + +<p>At the same time, reports of the near completion of <i>Ouroboros II</i> +were monopolizing the newscasts, to distract public attention from +what was happening at Force Command. Cargo was being collected for +her; instead of washing their feet in brandy, next year people would +be drinking water. Lorenzo Menardes had emptied his warehouses of +everything over a year old; so had most of the other distillers up and +down the Gordon Valley. Melon and tobacco planters were talking about +breaking new ground and increasing their cultivated acreage for the +next year. Agricultural machinery was in demand and bringing high +prices. So were stills, and tobacco-factory machinery. It began to +look as though the Maxwell Plan was really getting started.</p> + +<p>It was decided to send the hypership to Baldur on her first voyage; +that was Wade Lucas's suggestion. He was going with her himself, to +recruit scientific and technical graduates from his alma mater, the +University of Paris-on-Baldur, and from the other schools there. Conn +was enthusiastic about that, remembering the so-called engineers on +Koshchei, running around with a monkey-wrench in one hand and a +textbook in the other, trying to find out what they were supposed to +do while they were doing it. Poictesme had been living for too long on +the leavings of wartime<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> production; too few people had bothered +learning how to produce anything.</p> + +<p><i>The Thing</i> finally settled onto the mesa-top. It looked like +something from an old picture of the construction work on one of the +Terran space-stations in the First Century. Immediately, every piece +of contragravity equipment in the place converged on her; men dangled +on safety lines hundreds of feet above the ground, cutting away beams +and braces with torches. The two giant mining machines, one after the +other, floated free on their own contragravity and settled into place. +<i>The Thing</i> lifted, still carrying the collapsium-cutting equipment, +and came to rest on the brush-grown flat beyond, out of the way.</p> + +<p>If Yves Jacquemont had overestimated the time required to get the +equipment loaded and lifted off from Koshchei, Conn had been +overoptimistic about the speed with which the top of the mesa could be +stripped off. Digging away the rubble with which the pit had been +filled, and even the solid rock around it, was easier than getting the +stuff out of the way. Farm-scows came in from all over, as fast as +they and pilots for them could be found; the rush to get brandy and +tobacco to Storisende had caused an acute shortage of vehicles.</p> + +<p>One by one, the members of the old Fawzi's Office gang came drifting +in—Lorenzo Menardes, Morgan Gatworth, Lester Dawes. None of them had +any skills to contribute, but they brought plenty of enthusiasm. +Rodney Maxwell came whizzing out from Storisende now and then to watch +the progress of the work. Of all the crowd, he and Conn watched the +two steel giants strip away the tableland with apprehension instead of +hope. No, there was a third. Carl Leibert had stopped secluding +himself in his quarters; he still talked rapturously about the +miracles Merlin would work, but now and then Conn saw him when he +thought he was unobserved. His face was the face of a condemned man.</p> + +<p>The <i>Ouroboros II</i> was finished. The whole planet saw, by +screen, the ship lift out; watched from the ship the dwindling away +of Koshchei and saw Poictesme grow ahead of her. Twelve hours before +she landed, work at Force Command<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> stopped. Everybody was going to +Storisende—Sylvie, whose father would command her on her voyage to +Baldur, Morgan Gatworth, whose son would be first officer and +astrogator, everybody. Except Carl Leibert.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm not going either," Klem Zareff decided. "Somebody's got to +stay here and keep an eye on that snake."</p> + +<p>"No, nor me," Tom Brangwyn said. "And if he starts praying again, I'm +going to go and pray along with him."</p> + +<p>Conn stayed, too, and so did Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes. They watched +the newscast of the lift-out, a week later. It was peaceful and +harmonious; everybody, regardless of their attitudes on Merlin, seemed +agreed that this was the beginning of a new prosperity for the planet. +There were speeches. The bands played "Genji Gartner's Body," and the +"Spaceman's Hymn."</p> + +<p>And, at the last, when the officers and crew were going aboard, Conn +saw his sister Flora clinging to Wade Lucas's arm. She was one of the +small party who went aboard for a final farewell. When she came off, +along with Sylvie, she was wiping her eyes, and Sylvie was comforting +her. Seeing that made Conn feel better even than watching the ship +itself lift away from Storisende.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + + +<p>When Sylvie returned from Storisende, she had Flora with her. Conn's +sister greeted him embarrassedly; Sylvie led both of them out of the +crowd and over to the edge of the excavation.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Flora," she urged. "Make up with Conn. It won't be any +harder than making up with Wade was."</p> + +<p>"How did that happen, by the way?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"Your girlfriend," Flora said. "She came to the house and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> practically +forced me into a car and flew me into Storisende, and then made me +keep quiet and listen while Wade told me the truth."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't completely sure what the truth was myself till Wade opened +up," Sylvie admitted. "I had a pretty good idea, though."</p> + +<p>"I always hated that Merlin thing," Flora burst out. "All those old +men in Fawzi's office, dreaming about the wonderful things Merlin was +going to do, with everything crumbling around them and everybody +getting poorer every year, and doing nothing, nothing! And when you +were coming home, I was expecting you to tell them there was no Merlin +and to go to work and do something for themselves. But you didn't, and +I couldn't see what you were trying to do. And then when Wade joined +you and Father, I thought he was either helping you put over some kind +of a swindle or else he'd started believing in Merlin himself. I +should have seen what you were trying to do from the beginning. At +least, from when you talked them into cleaning the town up and fixing +the escalators and getting the fountains going again."</p> + +<p>So the fountains weren't dusty any more.</p> + +<p>"How's Mother taking things now?"</p> + +<p>Flora looked distressed. "She goes around wringing her hands. +Honestly. I never saw anybody doing that outside a soap opera. Half +the time she thinks you and Father are a pair of unprincipled +scoundrels, and the other half she thinks you're going to let Merlin +destroy the world."</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to be afraid of something like that myself."</p> + +<p>"Huh? But Merlin's just a big fake, isn't it? You're using it to make +these people do something they wouldn't do for themselves, aren't +you?"</p> + +<p>"It started that way. What do you think all this is about?" he asked, +gesturing toward the excavation and the two giant mining machines +digging and blasting and pounding away at the rock.</p> + +<p>"Well, to keep Kurt Fawzi and that crowd happy, I suppose. It seems +like an awful waste of time, though."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it isn't. I'm afraid Merlin, or something just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> as bad, is +down there. That's why I'm here, instead of on Koshchei. I want to +keep people like Fawzi from doing anything foolish with it when they +find it."</p> + +<p>"But there <i>can't</i> be a Merlin!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid there is. Not the sort of a Merlin Fawzi expects to find; +that thing's too small for that. But there's something down there...."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The question of size bothered him. That drum-shaped superstructure +couldn't even hold the personnel-record machine they had found here, +or the computers at the Storisende Stock Exchange. It could have been +an intelligence-evaluator, or an enemy-intentions predictor, but it +seemed small even for that. It would be something <i>like</i> a computer; +that was as far as he was able to go. And it could be something +completely outside the reach of his imagination.</p> + +<p>At the back of his mind, the suspicion grew that Carl Leibert knew +exactly what it was. And he became more and more convinced that he had +seen the self-styled preacher before.</p> + +<p>Finally, the whole top of the hundred-foot collapsium-covered +structure was uncovered, and the excavation had been leveled out wide +enough to accommodate all the massive paraphernalia of the +collapsium-cutter. They put <i>The Thing</i> onto contragravity again, and +brought her down in place; the work of lifting off the reactor and the +converter and the rest of it, piece by piece, began. Finally, +everything was set up.</p> + +<p>A dozen and a half of them were gathered in the room that had become +their meeting-place, after dinner. They were all too tired to start +the cutting that night, and at the same time excited and anxious. They +talked in disconnected snatches, and then somebody put on one of the +telecast screens. A music program was just ending; there was a brief +silence, and then a commentator appeared, identifying his +news-service. He spoke rapidly and breathlessly, his professional +gravity cracking all over.</p> + +<p>"The hypership <i>City of Asgard</i>, from Aton, has just come into +telecast range," he began. "We have received an exclusive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> Interworld +News Service story, recently brought to Aton on the Pan-Federation +Spacelines ship <i>Magellanic</i>, from Terra.</p> + +<p>"News of revived interest in the Third Force computer, Merlin, having +reached Terra by way of Odin, representatives of Interworld News, to +which this service subscribes, interviewed retired Force-General Foxx +Travis, now living, at the advanced age of a hundred and fourteen, on +Luna. General Travis, who commanded the Third Fleet-Army Force here +during the War, categorically denied that there had ever existed any +super-computer of the sort.</p> + +<p>"We bring you, now, a recorded interview with General Travis, made on +Luna...."</p> + +<p>For an instant, Conn felt the room around him whirling dizzily, and +then he caught hold of himself. Everybody else was shouting in sudden +consternation, and then everybody was hushing everybody else and +making twice as much noise. The screen flickered; the commentator +vanished, and instead, seated in the deep-cushioned chair, was the +thin and frail old man with whom Conn had talked two years before, and +through an open segment of the dome-roof behind him the full Earth +shone, the continents of the Western Hemisphere plainly +distinguishable. A young woman in starchy nurse's white bent forward +solicitously from beside the chair, handing him a small beaker from +which he sipped some stimulant. He looked much as he had when Conn had +talked to him. But there was something missing....</p> + +<p>Oh, yes. The comparative youngster of seventy-some—"Mike Shanlee ... +my <i>aide-de-camp</i> on Poictesme ... now he thinks he's my keeper...." +He wasn't in evidence, and he should be. Then Conn knew where and when +he had seen the man who claimed to be a preacher named Carl Leibert.</p> + +<p>"There is absolutely no truth in it, gentlemen," Travis was saying. +"There never was any such computer. I only wish there had been; it +would have shortened the War by years. We did, of course, use +computers of all sorts, but they were all the conventional types used +by business organizations...."</p> + +<p>The rest was lost in a new outburst of shouting: General Travis, in +the screen, continued in dumb-show. The only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> thing Conn could +distinguish was Leibert's—Shanlee's—voice, screaming: "Can it be a +lie? Is there no Great Computer?" Then Kurt Fawzi was pounding on the +top of the desk and bellowing, "Shut up! Listen!"</p> + +<p>"Frankly, I'm surprised," Travis was continuing. "Young Maxwell talked +to me, here in this room, a couple of years ago; I told him then that +nothing of the sort existed. If he's back on Poictesme telling people +there is, he's lying to them and taking advantage of their credulity. +There never was anything called Project Merlin...."</p> + +<p>"Hah, who's a liar now?" Klem Zareff shouted. "Dolf, what did your +people find in the Library?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's right!" Professor Kellton exclaimed. "My students did +find a dozen references to Project Merlin. He couldn't be ignorant of +anything like that."</p> + +<p>"This youth has been lying to us all along!" the old man with the +beard cried, pointing an accusing finger at Conn. "He has created +false hopes; he has given us faith in a delusion. Why, he is the +wickedest monster in human history!"</p> + +<p>"Well, thank you, General Travis," another voice, from the +screen-speaker, was saying. The only calm voice in the room. "That was +a most excellent statement, sir. It should...."</p> + +<p>"Conn, you didn't tell us you'd talked to General Travis," Morgan +Gatworth was saying. "Why didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Because I never believed anything he told me. You were in Kurt +Fawzi's office the day I came home; you know how shocked everybody was +when I told you I hadn't been able to learn anything positive. Why +should I repeat his lies and discourage everybody that much more? Why, +he'd deny there was a Merlin if he was sitting on top of it," Conn +declared. "He wants the credit for winning the War, not for letting +Merlin win it for him."</p> + +<p>"I don't blame Conn," Klem Zareff said. "If he'd told us that then, +some of us might have believed it."</p> + +<p>"And look what we found," Kurt Fawzi added, pointing at the ceiling. +"Is that Merlin up there, or isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"That little thing!" Shanlee cried scornfully. "How could that be +Merlin? I am going to my chamber, to pray for forgiveness for this +wretch."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>He turned and started for the door.</p> + +<p>"Stop him, Tom!" Conn said, and Tom Brangwyn put himself in front of +the older man, gripping his right arm. Shanlee tried, briefly, to +resist.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me you lost faith in Merlin awfully quick," the former town +marshal of Litchfield said. "You knew there was a Merlin all along, +and you never wanted us to find it."</p> + +<p>Franz Veltrin, who had been "Leibert's" most enthusiastic adherent, +had also lost faith suddenly; he was shouting vituperation at the +Prophet of Merlin.</p> + +<p>"Knock it off, Franz; he was only doing his duty," Conn said. "Weren't +you, General Shanlee?"</p> + +<p>It took almost a minute before they stopped yelling for an explanation +and allowed him to make one. He caught Klem Zareff's comment: "Must be +pretty hot, if they have to send a general to handle it."</p> + +<p>"I talked to Travis, yes. He gave me the same story he just repeated +on that interview," Conn said, picking his way carefully between fact +and fiction. "After I went back to Montevideo, he and this aide of his +must have been afraid I didn't believe it, which I didn't. When I was +ready to graduate, I got this offer of an instructorship; that was a +bribe to keep me on Terra and off Poictesme. When I turned it down and +took the <i>Mizar</i> home, Travis sent Shanlee after me. He must have +grown that beard and that pageboy bob on the way out. I suppose he +contacted Murchison as soon as he landed. Wait a minute."</p> + +<p>He went to the communication screen and punched out a combination. A +girl appeared and singsonged: "Barton-Massarra, Investigation and +Protection."</p> + +<p>"Conn Maxwell here. We gave you some audiovisuals of a man with a +white beard, alias Carl Leibert," he began.</p> + +<p>"Just a sec, Mr. Maxwell." She spoke quickly into a handphone. The +screen flickered, and she was replaced by a hard-faced young man in +dark clothes.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Mr. Maxwell; Joe Massarra. We haven't anything on Leibert +yet."</p> + +<p>"Are any of the officers of the <i>Andromeda</i> where you can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> contact +them? Let them see those audiovisual. I'll bet that beard was grown +aboard ship coming out from Terra."</p> + +<p>Bedlam broke out suddenly. Shanlee, who had been standing passively, +his right arm loosely grasped by Tom Brangwyn, came down on Brangwyn's +instep with the heel of his left foot and hit Brangwyn under the chin +with the heel of his left palm. Wrenching his arm free, he started for +the door. Sylvie Jacquemont snatched a chair and threw it along the +floor; it hit the fleeing man's ankles and brought him down. Half a +dozen men piled on top of him, and Brangwyn was yelling to them not to +choke him to death till he could answer some questions.</p> + +<p>"Hey, what's going on?" the detective-agency man in the screen was +asking. "Need help? We'll start a car right away."</p> + +<p>"Everything's under control, thank you."</p> + +<p>Massarra hesitated for a moment. "What's the dope on this statement +that was on telecast a few minutes ago?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Travis doesn't want us to find Merlin. What you just heard was one of +his people, planted here at Force Command. We're going to question him +when we have time. But there isn't a word of truth in that statement +you just heard on the <i>Herald-Guardian</i> newscast. Merlin exists, and +we've found it. We'll have it opened inside of thirty hours at most."</p> + +<p>That was the line he was going to take with everybody. As soon as he +had Massarra off the screen, he was punching the combination of his +father's private screen at Interplanetary Building. It took five +interminable minutes before Rodney Maxwell came on. He could hear Klem +Zareff shouting orders into one of the inside communication +screens—general turnout, everything on combat-ready; guards to come +at once to the office.</p> + +<p>"How close are you to digging that thing out?" his father asked as +soon as he appeared.</p> + +<p>"We're down to it; we can start cutting the collapsium any time now."</p> + +<p>"Start cutting it ten minutes ago," his father told him. "And don't +leave Force Command till you have it open. How many men and vehicles +does Klem have for defense?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> You'll need all of them in a couple of +hours. Everybody here is stunned, now; they'll come out of it inside +an hour, and they'll come out fighting."</p> + +<p>"You'd better come out here." He turned, saw Jerry Rivas helping hold +Shanlee in a chair, and shouted to him: "Jerry! Turn out the workmen. +Start cutting the can open right away." He turned back to his father. +"Klem's just ordered all his force out. Are you coming here?"</p> + +<p>"I can't. In about an hour, everything's going up with a bang. I have +to be here to grab a few of the pieces."</p> + +<p>"You'll do a lot of good in jail, or on the end of a rope."</p> + +<p>"Chance I have to take," his father replied. "I think I'll have a +couple of hours. If anybody from the press calls you, what are you +going to tell them?"</p> + +<p>Conn repeated the line he had taken already. His father nodded.</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll call you later. If I can. Just keep things going at +your end."</p> + +<p>A dozen of Klem Zareff's men were crowding into the room.</p> + +<p>"This man's under close arrest," the old soldier was telling them. "He +is very important and very dangerous. Take him out somewhere, search +him to the skin, take his clothes away from him and give him a robe. +He's to be watched every second; make sure he hasn't poison or other +suicide means. He's to be questioned later."</p> + +<p>As soon as Rodney Maxwell was off the screen, there was a call-signal. +It was one of the news-services, wanting a statement.</p> + +<p>"I'll take it," Gatworth said, and then began talking:</p> + +<p>"This statement of General Travis's is completely false. There is a +Merlin, and we've found it...."</p> + +<p>They found something that might be good-enough Merlin for the next +thirty hours. That superstructure was just big enough for the manually +operated parts of a computer like Merlin; the input and output, and +the programming machines.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + + +<p>Klem Zareff's guardsmen were mercenaries. A little over a year ago +they had, at best, been homeless drifters, and not a few had been +outlaws. Now they were soldiers, well fed, clothed, quartered and +equipped, and well and regularly paid. They had a good thing; they +were willing to fight to keep it, Merlin or no Merlin. Conn left them +to their commander. He did gather the workmen for a short harangue, +but that wasn't really necessary. They had a good thing, too, and most +of them realized that they were working toward a better thing. They +could be depended upon, too.</p> + +<p>They came crowding out and manned lifters; they got the heavy +collapsium-cutter maneuvered into place and the shielding down around +the cutting-head. After that, there were only four men who could work, +each in his own heavily shielded cabin. In spite of the shielding that +covered the actual work, there was an awesome display of multicolored +light; it was like being in the middle of an aurora borealis. What was +going on where that tiny rotating beam of cosmic rays was grinding at +the collapsium simply couldn't have been imagined.</p> + +<p>Conn would have liked to stay outside; he could not. Too many things +were happening in too many places, and it was all coming in by screen. +Rioting had broken out in Storisende and in a dozen other places. He +saw, on a news-screen, a mob raging in front of the Executive Palace; +yellow-shirted Cybernarchists were battling with city police and +Planetary troops, Armageddonists and Human Supremacy Leaguers were +fighting both and one another. Above all the confused noise of +shouting and shooting, an amplifier was braying: "<i>It's a lie! It's a +lie! Merlin has been found!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> Newsmen began arriving—Zareff's men +had orders to pass them through the cordon that had been put up around +Force Command—and they took up his time. It was worth it, though. +They could tell him what was going on.</p> + +<p>J. Fitzwilliam Sterber called. Rodney Maxwell had been arrested, on a +farrago of fraud charges—"I don't know who he's supposed to have +defrauded; the Planetary Government is the sole complainant"—and bail +was being illegally denied. Sterber's lawyerly soul was outraged, but +he was grimly elated. "You wait till things quiet down a little. We're +going to start a false-arrest suit—"</p> + +<p>"If you're alive to." Apparently Sterber hadn't thought of that. "What +do you think's going to happen when the Stock Exchange opens?"</p> + +<p>"It's going to be bad. But don't worry; your father must have foreseen +something like this. He gave me instructions, and instructed a few +more people." He named some of the Trisystem Investments people and +some of the bankers. "We're going to try to brace the market as long +as we can. Nobody who keeps his head is going to lose anything in the +long run."</p> + +<p>Luther Chen-Wong called from Port Carpenter, on Koshchei. He and Clyde +Nichols and a young mathematics professor named Simon Macquarte had +been running the colony, in Conn's absence and since Yves Jacquemont +had gone to space in the <i>Ouroboros II</i>.</p> + +<p>"Well, they caught up with you," he said. Evidently he had figured out +what the search for Merlin was all about, too. "What do we do about +it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we are just before finding Merlin, here. I hope we find it +before things get too bad." He told Luther the situation of the +moment. "Have you people started on another hypership yet?"</p> + +<p>"We're getting organized to. I don't suppose it's advisable to send +any more ships in to Storisende for a while? And are you sure this +thing you've found is Merlin?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what it is. It's only big enough for the apparatus +they'd need to operate a thing like Merlin—Yes, Luther. I am sure we +have found Merlin."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>Chen-Wong looked at him curiously. "I hope so. I can't think of +anything else that can stop this business."</p> + +<p>Tom Brangwyn was in the room when he turned from the screen.</p> + +<p>"We searched Leibert's—Shanlee's—rooms," he said. "We found a bomb."</p> + +<p>"What kind of a bomb?"</p> + +<p>"Vest-pocket thermonuclear. He seems to have gotten the fissionables +by taking apart a couple of light tactical missiles; the whole thing's +packed inside a hundred-pound power-cartridge case. It was in a +traveling-bag under his bed. And you know how it was to be fired? With +a regular 40-mm flare-pistol, welded into the end of the bomb. The +flare-powder had been taken out of the cartridge, and it had been +reloaded with a big charge of rifle-powder. I suppose it would blow +one subcritical mass into another. But the only way he could have +fired the bomb would have been by pulling the trigger."</p> + +<p>And blowing himself up along with it. He must have wanted Merlin +destroyed pretty badly.</p> + +<p>"Have you questioned him yet?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I wanted to tell you about it first."</p> + +<p>He looked at his watch. Only four hours had passed since the newscast; +why, that seemed like months, ago, now.</p> + +<p>"All right, Tom; we'll go talk to him. Where's the Colonel?"</p> + +<p>Zareff was surrounded by a dozen screens, keeping in touch with the +<i>Lester Dawes</i> and the gunboats and combat cars, and the gun positions +with which he had ringed Force Command. It was only a little army, +maybe, but he was a busy commander-in-chief.</p> + +<p>"You take care of it. Tell me what you get from him. I can't leave +now. There's a report of a number of aircraft approaching from the +west now...."</p> + +<p>They found Judge Ledue, and Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton, who were just +sitting around wishing there was something to do to help. They gave +Franz Veltrin and Sylvie Jacquemont the job of keeping the +representatives of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> press amused. Then they went down to the room +in which General Mike Shanlee was held under guard.</p> + +<p>Shanlee, wearing a bathrobe and nothing else, was lying on a cot, +sleeping peacefully; three of Zareff's men were sitting on chairs, +watching him narrowly.</p> + +<p>"All right; you can go," Conn told them. "We'll take care of him."</p> + +<p>Shanlee woke instantly; he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of +the cot.</p> + +<p>"You have my name and rank," he said, and his voice no longer +quavered. "My serial number is—" He recited a string of figures. "And +that's all you're getting out of me."</p> + +<p>"We'll get anything we want out of you," Conn told him. "You know what +a mind-probe is? You should; your accomplices used one on my father's +secretary. She's a hopeless imbecile now. You'll be, too, when we're +through with you. But before then, you'll have given us everything you +know."</p> + +<p>Kellton began to protest. "Conn, you can't do a thing like that!"</p> + +<p>"A mind-probe is utterly illegal; why, it's a capital offense!" Ledue +exclaimed. "Conn I forbid you...."</p> + +<p>"Judge, don't make me call those guards and have you removed," Conn +said.</p> + +<p>"You can stop bluffing," Shanlee told him. "Where would you get a +mind-probe?"</p> + +<p>"Out of the Chief of Intelligence's office, here in his headquarters. +I should imagine it was to be used in interrogating Alliance +prisoners, during the War. I think Colonel Zareff would enjoy helping +to use it on you. He used to be an Alliance officer."</p> + +<p>Shanlee was silent. Conn sat down in one of the chairs, at the small +table.</p> + +<p>"General Shanlee, would you describe General Foxx Travis as a man of +honor and integrity? And would you so describe yourself?" Shanlee said +nothing. "Yet both of you have lied, deliberately and repeatedly, to +conceal the existence of Merlin. And we found that bomb in your room. +You were willing to blow up this headquarters and everybody, yourself +included, in it, to keep us from getting at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> Merlin. Well, you know +that we can make you tell us the truth, maybe when it's too late, and +you know that we are going to get Merlin. We're cutting the collapsium +off that thing above now."</p> + +<p>Shanlee laughed. "You're supposed to be a computerman. You think that +little thing could be Merlin?"</p> + +<p>"The controls and programming machine for Merlin." He turned to Kurt +Fawzi. "You always claimed that Merlin was here in Force Command. You +had it backward. Force Command is inside Merlin."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Conn?"</p> + +<p>"The walls; the fifty-foot walls, shielded inside and out. Merlin—the +circuitry, the memory-bank, the relays, everything—was installed +inside them. What's up above is only what was needed to operate the +computer. Isn't that true, General?"</p> + +<p>Shanlee had stopped his derisive laughter. He sat on the edge of the +cot, tensing as though for a leap at Conn's throat.</p> + +<p>"That won't help, either. If you try it, we won't shoot you. We'll +just overpower you and start mind-probing right away. Now; you feel +that suppressing Merlin was worth any sacrifice. We're not +unreasonable. If you can convince us that Merlin ought not to be +brought to light.... Well, you can't do any harm by talking, and you +may do some good. You may even accomplish your mission."</p> + +<p>"He can't talk us out of it," Kurt Fawzi seemed determined to spoil +things by saying. "Conn, I'm coming around to Klem's way of thinking. +They just don't want anybody else to have it."</p> + +<p>"No, we don't," Shanlee said. "We don't want the whole Federation +breaking up into bloody anarchy, and that's what'll happen if you dig +that thing up and put it into operation."</p> + +<p>Nobody said anything except Fawzi, who began an indignant +contradiction and then subsided. Tom Brangwyn lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind letting me have one of those?" Shanlee said. "I +haven't had a smoke since I came here. It wouldn't have been in +character."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Brangwyn took one out of the pack, lit it at the tip of his own, and +gave it to Shanlee with his left hand, his right ready to strike. +Shanlee laughed in real amusement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Brother!" he reproved, in his former pious tones. "You distrust +your fellow man; that is a sin."</p> + +<p>He rose slowly, the bathrobe flapping at his bare shins, and sat down +across the table from Conn.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said. "I'll tell you about it. I'll tell you the +truth, which will be something of a novelty all around."</p> + +<p>Shanlee puffed for a moment at the cigarette; it must really have +tasted good after his long abstinence.</p> + +<p>"You know, we were really caught off balance when the War ended. It +even caught Merlin short; information lag, of course. The whole +Alliance caved in all at once. Well, we fed Merlin all the data +available, and analyzed the situation. Then we did something we really +weren't called upon to do, because that was policy-planning and wasn't +our province, but we were going to move an occupation army into System +States planets, and we didn't want to do anything that would embarrass +the Federation Government later. We fed Merlin every scrap of +available information on political and economic conditions everywhere +in the Federation, and set up a long-term computation of the general +effects of the War.</p> + +<p>"The extrapolation was supposed to run five hundred years in the +future. It didn't. It stopped, at a point a trifle over two hundred +years from now, with a statement that no computation could be made +further because at that point the Terran Federation would no longer +exist."</p> + +<p>The others, who had taken chairs facing him, looked at him blankly.</p> + +<p>"No more Federation?" Judge Ledue asked incredulously. "Why, the +Federation, the Federation...."</p> + +<p>The Federation would last forever. Anybody knew that. There just +couldn't be no more Federation.</p> + +<p>"That's right," Shanlee said. "We had trouble believing it, too. +Remember, we were Federation officers. The Federation was our +religion. Just like patriotism used to be, back in the days of +nationalism. We checked for error. We made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> detail analyses. We ran it +all over again. It was no use.</p> + +<p>"In two hundred years, there won't be any Terran Federation. The +Government will collapse, slowly. The Space Navy will disintegrate. +Planets and systems will lose touch with Terra and with one another. +You know what it was like here, just before the War? It will be like +that on every planet, even on Terra. Just a slow crumbling, till +everything is gone; then every planet will start sliding back, in +isolation, into barbarism."</p> + +<p>"Merlin predicted that?" Kurt Fawzi asked, shocked.</p> + +<p>If Merlin said so, it had to be true.</p> + +<p>Shanlee nodded. "So we ran another computation; we added the data of +publication of this prognosis. You know, Merlin can't predict what you +or I would do under given circumstances, but Merlin can handle +large-group behavior with absolute accuracy. If we made public +Merlin's prognosis, the end would come, not in two centuries but in +less than one, and it wouldn't be a slow, peaceful decay; it would be +a bomb-type reaction. Rebellions. Overthrow of Federation authority, +and then revolt and counterrevolt against planetary authority. +Division along sectional or class lines on individual planets. +Interplanetary wars; what we fought the Alliance to prevent. Left in +ignorance of the future, people would go on trying to make do with +what they had. But if they found out that the Federation was doomed, +everybody would be trying to snatch what they could, and end by +smashing everything. Left in ignorance, there might be a planet here +and there that would keep enough of the old civilization to serve, in +five or so centuries, as a nucleus for a new one. Informed in advance +of the doom of the Federation, they would all go down together in the +same bloody shambles, and there would be a Galactic night of barbarism +for no one knows how many thousand years."</p> + +<p>"We don't want anything like that to happen!" Tom Brangwyn said, in a +frightened voice.</p> + +<p>"Then pull everybody out of here and blow the place up, Merlin along +with it," Shanlee said.</p> + +<p>"No! We'll not do that!" Fawzi shouted. "I'll shoot the man dead who +tries it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why didn't you people blow Merlin up?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"We'd built it; we'd worked with it. It was part of us, and we were +part of it. We couldn't. Besides, there was a chance that it might +survive the Federation; when a new civilization arose, it would be +useful. We just sealed it. There were fewer than a hundred of us who +knew about it. We all took an oath of secrecy. We spent the rest of +our lives trying to suppress any mention of Merlin or the Merlin +Project. You have no idea how shocked both General Travis and I were +when you told us that the story was still current here on Poictesme. +And when we found that you'd been getting into the records of the +Third Force, I took the next ship I could, a miserable little +freighter, and when I landed and found out what was happening, I +contacted Murchison and scared the life out of him with stories about +a secessionist conspiracy. All this Armageddonist, Human Supremacy, +Merlin-is-the-Devil, stuff that's been going on was started by +Murchison. And he succeeded in scaring Vyckhoven with the +Cybernarchists, too."</p> + +<p>"This computation on the future of the Federation is still in the +back-work file?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>Shanlee nodded. "We were criminally reckless; I can see that, now. Let +me beg, again, that you destroy the whole thing."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to talk it over among ourselves," Judge Ledue said. "The +five of us, here, cannot presume to speak for everybody. We will, of +course, have to keep you confined; I hope you will understand that we +cannot accept your parole."</p> + +<p>"Is there anything you want in the meantime?" Conn asked.</p> + +<p>"I would like something to smoke, and some clothes," General Shanlee +said. "And a shave and a haircut."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + + +<p>All through the night, a shifting blaze of many-colored light rose and +dimmed the stars above the mesa. They stared in awe, marveling at the +energy that was pouring out of the converters into a tiny spot that +inched its way around the collapsium shielding. It must have been +visible for hundreds of miles; it was, for there was a new flood of +rumors circulating in Storisende and repeated and denied by the +newscasts, now running continuously. Merlin had been found. Merlin had +been blown up by Government troops. Merlin was being transported to +Storisende to be installed as arbiter of the Government. Merlin the +Monster was destroying the planet. Merlin the Devil was unchained.</p> + +<p>Conn and Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton and Judge Ledue and Tom Brangwyn +clustered together, talking in whispers. They had told nobody, yet, of +the interview with Shanlee.</p> + +<p>"You think it would make all that trouble?" Kellton was asking +anxiously, hoping that the others would convince him that it wouldn't.</p> + +<p>"Maybe we had better destroy it," Judge Ledue faltered. "You see what +it's done already; the whole planet's in anarchy. If we let this go +on...."</p> + +<p>"We can't decide anything like that, just the five of us," Brangwyn +was insisting. "We'll have to get the others together and see what +they think. We have no right to make any decision like this for them."</p> + +<p>"They're no more able to make the decision than we are," Conn said.</p> + +<p>"But we've got to; they have a right to know...."</p> + +<p>"If you decide to destroy Merlin, you'll have to decide to kill me, +first," Kurt Fawzi said, his voice deadly calm. "You won't do it while +I'm alive."</p> + +<p>"But, Kurt," Ledue expostulated. "You know why these people here at +Storisende are rioting? It's because they've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> lost hope, because +they're afraid and desperate. The Terran Federation is something +everybody feels they have to have, for peace and order and welfare. If +people thought it was breaking up, they'd be desperate, too. They'd do +the same insane things these people here on this planet are doing. +General Shanlee was right. Don't destroy the hope that keeps them +sane."</p> + +<p>"We don't need to do that," Kurt Fawzi argued. "We can use Merlin to +solve our own problems; we don't need to tell the whole Federation +what's going to happen in two hundred years."</p> + +<p>"It would get out; it couldn't help getting out," Ledue said.</p> + +<p>"Let's not try to decide it ourselves," Conn said. "Let's get Merlin +into operation, and run a computation on it."</p> + +<p>"You mean, ask Merlin to tell us whether it ought to be destroyed or +not?" Ledue asked incredulously. "Let Merlin put itself on trial, and +sentence itself to destruction?"</p> + +<p>"Merlin is a computer; computers deal only in facts. Computers are +machines; they have no sense of self-preservation. If Merlin ought to +be destroyed, Merlin will tell us so."</p> + +<p>"You willing to leave it up to Merlin, Kurt?" Tom Brangwyn asked.</p> + +<p>Fawzi gulped. "Yes. If Merlin says we ought to, we'll have to do it."</p> + +<p>Toward noon, a telecast went out from Koshchei, on a dozen different +wave-lengths. Conn, half asleep in a chair in the commander-in-chief's +office, saw Simon Macquarte, the young mathematics professor from +Storisende College who had become one of the leaders of the colony, +appear in the screen. The next moment, he was fully awake, shocked by +Macquarte's words:</p> + +<p>"This is not a threat; this is a solemn, even a prayerful, warning. We +do not want to use genocidal weapons of mass destruction against the +world of our birth. But whether we do or not rests solely with you.</p> + +<p>"We came here with a dream of a better world, a world of happiness and +plenty for all. We have been working, on Koshchei, to build such a +world on Poictesme. Now you are smashing that dream. When it is gone, +we will have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> nothing to live for—except revenge. And we will take +that revenge, make no mistake.</p> + +<p>"We have the weapons with which to take it. Remember, this was a +Federation naval base and naval arsenal during the War. Here the +Federation Navy built their super-missiles, the missiles which +devastated Ashmodai, and Belphegor, and Baphomet, and hundreds of +these weapons are here. We have them, ready for launching. Once they +are launched, with the robo-pilots set for targets on Poictesme, you +will have a hundred and sixty hours, at the most, to live.</p> + +<p>"We will launch them immediately if there is another attack made upon +Force Command Duplicate HQ, or upon Interplanetary Building in +Storisende, or if Rodney Maxwell is killed, no matter by whom or under +what circumstances.</p> + +<p>"We beg you, earnestly and prayerfully, not to force us to do this +dreadful thing. We speak to each one of you, for each one of you holds +the fate of the planet in his own hands."</p> + +<p>The image faded from the screen. As it did, Conn was looking from one +to another of the people in the room with him. All were dumbfounded, +most of them frightened.</p> + +<p>"They wouldn't do it, would they?" Lorenzo Menardes was asking. "Conn, +you know those people. They wouldn't really?"</p> + +<p>"Don't depend on it, Lorenzo," Klem Zareff said. "It's hard for a lot +of people to shoot somebody ten feet away with a pistol. But just +sending off a missile; that's nothing but setting a lot of dials and +then pushing a button."</p> + +<p>"I'm not worrying about whether they'd do it or not," Conn said. "What +I'm worrying about is how many people will believe they will."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Apparently a good many people did. Zareff's combat vehicles began +reporting a cessation of fighting. The newscasts, repeating the +ultimatum from Koshchei, told of fewer and fewer disorders in the city +or elsewhere; by midafternoon, the rioting had stopped.</p> + +<p>By that time, too, Rodney Maxwell was on-screen. He was, Conn noticed, +wearing his pistols again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What happened?" he asked. "They let you out on bail?"</p> + +<p>Maxwell shook his head. "Charges dismissed; they didn't have anything +to charge me with in the first place. But they haven't let me out +yet."</p> + +<p>"You're wearing your guns."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but they still have me penned up here at the Executive Palace; +they're practically keeping me in the safe. I wish our people on +Koshchei hadn't mentioned me in their ultimatum; Jake Vyckhoven's +afraid to let me run around loose for fear some lunatic shoots me and +starts the planetbusters coming in. Jake did one good thing, though. +He ordered the Stock Exchange closed, and declared a five-day bank +holiday. By that time, you ought to have Merlin opened and working, +and then the market'll be safe."</p> + +<p>Conn simply replied, "I hope so." There was no telling what kind of +taps there might be on the screen his father was using; he couldn't +risk telling him about Shanlee, or about the last computation which +Merlin had made. "If we send the <i>Lester Dawes</i> in, do you think you +might talk them into letting you come out here?"</p> + +<p>"I can try."</p> + +<p>Flora arrived at Force Command that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"I would have come sooner," she said, "but Mother's had a complete +collapse. It happened last evening; she's in the hospital. I was with +her until just an hour and a half ago. She's still unconscious."</p> + +<p>"You mean she's in danger?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. They think she's all right, except for the shock. It +was the Travis statement that did it."</p> + +<p>"Think I ought to go to her?"</p> + +<p>Flora shook her head. "Just keep on with what you're doing here. There +isn't anything you can do for her now."</p> + +<p>"The best thing you can do for her, Conn, is prove that you weren't +lying about Merlin," Sylvie told him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The <i>Lester Dawes</i> didn't make it from Force Command to Storisende and +back until after dark, and the green and white and red and orange +lights were rising in folds and waves. Rodney Maxwell had heard about +his wife's condition;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> it was the first thing he spoke of when Conn +and Flora and Sylvie met him as he got off the ship.</p> + +<p>"There isn't anything we can do, Father," Flora said. "They'll call us +when there's any change."</p> + +<p>He said the same thing Sylvie had said. "The only thing we can do is +get that infernal thing uncovered. Once we do this, everything'll be +all right. We'll show your mother that it isn't a fake and it isn't +anything dangerous; we'll put a stop to all these horror-stories about +mechanical devils and living machines...."</p> + +<p>Conn drew his father off where the girls couldn't overhear.</p> + +<p>"This is something worse," he said. "This is a bomb that could blow up +the whole Federation."</p> + +<p>"Are you going nuts, too?" his father demanded.</p> + +<p>Conn told him about Shanlee; he repeated, almost word for word, the +story Shanlee had told.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe that?" his father asked.</p> + +<p>"Don't you? You were in Storisende when the Travis statement came out; +you saw how people acted. If this story gets out, people will be +acting the same way on every planet in the Federation. Not just places +like Poictesme; planets like Terra and Baldur and Marduk and Odin and +Osiris. It would be the end of everything civilized, everywhere."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't they use Merlin to save the Federation?"</p> + +<p>"It's past saving. It's been past saving since before the War. The War +was what gave it the final shove. If they could have used Merlin to +reverse the process, they wouldn't have sealed it away."</p> + +<p>"But you know, Conn, we can't destroy Merlin. If we did, the same +people who went crazy over the Travis statement would go crazy all +over again, worse than ever. We'd be destroying everything we planned +for, and we'd be destroying ourselves. That bluff young Macquarte and +Luther Chen-Wong and Bill Nichols made wouldn't work twice. And if +they weren't bluffing...."</p> + +<p>His father shuddered.</p> + +<p>"And if we don't, how long do you think civilization will last here, +if it blows up all over the rest of the Federation?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p>The big machine cut on, a little spot of raw energy grinding away the +collapsium, inch by inch; the undulating curtains of colored light +illuminated the Badlands for miles around. Then, when the first hint +of dawn came into the east, they went out. The steady roar of the +generators that had battered every ear for over twenty-four hours +stopped. There was unbelieving silence, and then shouts.</p> + +<p>The workmen swarmed out to man lifters. Slowly the heavy +apparatus—the reactor and the converters, the cutting machine, and +the shielding around it—was lifted away. Finally, a lone lifter came +in and men in radiation-suits went down to hook on grapples, and it +lifted away, carrying with it a ten-foot-square sheet of thin steel +that weighed almost thirty tons.</p> + +<p>When they had battered a hole in the vitrified rock underneath, guards +brought up General Shanlee. Somebody almost up to professional +standards had given him a haircut; the beard was gone, too. A +Federation Army officer's uniform had been found reasonably close to +his size, and somebody had even provided him with the four stars of +his retirement rank. He was, again, the man Conn had seen in the +dome-house on Luna.</p> + +<p>"Well, you got it open," he said, climbing down from the airjeep that +had brought him. "Now, what are you going to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"We can't make up our minds," Conn said. "We're going to let the +computer tell us what to do with it."</p> + +<p>Shanlee looked at him, startled. "You mean, you're going to have +Merlin judge itself and decide its own fate?" he asked. "You'll get +the same result we did."</p> + +<p>They let a ladder down the hole and descended—Conn and his father, +Kurt Fawzi, Jerry Rivas, then Shanlee and his two guards, then +others—until a score of them were crowded in the room at the bottom, +their flashlights illuminating the circular chamber, revealing +ceiling-high metal cabinets, banks of button- and dial-studded control +panels, big keyboards. It was Shanlee who found the lights and put +them on.</p> + +<p>"Powered from the central plant, down below," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> "The main +cables are disguised as the grounding-outlet. If this thing had been +on when you put on the power, you'd have had an awful lot of power +going nowhere, apparently."</p> + +<p>Rodney Maxwell was disappointed. "I know this stuff looks awfully +complex, but I'd have expected there to be more of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you about that. This is only the +operating end," Conn said, and then asked Shanlee if there were +inspection-screens. When Shanlee indicated them, he began putting them +on. "This is the real computer."</p> + +<p>They all gave the same view, with minor differences—long corridors, +ten feet wide, between solid banks of steel cabinets on either side. +Conn explained where they were, and added:</p> + +<p>"Kurt and the rest of them were sitting here, all this time, wondering +where Merlin was; it was all around them."</p> + +<p>"Well, how did you get up here?" Fawzi asked. "We couldn't find +anything from below."</p> + +<p>"No, you couldn't." Shanlee was amused. "Watch this."</p> + +<p>It was so simple that nobody had ever guessed it. Below, back of the +Commander-in-chief's office, there was a closet, fifteen feet by +twenty. They had found it empty except for some bits of discarded +office-gear, and had used it as a catch-all for everything they wanted +out of the way. Shanlee went to where four thick steel columns rose +from floor to ceiling in a rectangle around a heavy-duty lifter, +pressing a button on a control-box on one of them. The lifter, and the +floor under it, rose, with a thick mass of vitrified rock underneath. +The closet, full of the junk that had been thrown into it, followed.</p> + +<p>"That's it," he said. "We just tore out the controls inside that and +patched it up a little. There's a sheet of collapsium-plate under the +floor. Your scanners simply couldn't detect anything from below."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Confident that Merlin would decree its own destruction, Shanlee gave +his parole; the others accepted it. The newsmen were admitted to the +circular operating room and encouraged to send out views and +descriptions of everything. Then the lift controls were reinstalled, +the lid was put back on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> top, and the only access to the room was +through the office below. The entrance to this was always guarded by +Zarel's soldiers or Brangwyn's police.</p> + +<p>There were only a score of them who could be let in on the actual +facts. For the most part, they were the same men who had been in +Fawzi's office on the afternoon of Conn's return, a year and a half +ago. A few others—Anse Dawes, Jerry Rivas, and five computermen Conn +had trained on Koshchei—had to be trusted. Conn insisted on letting +Sylvie Jacquemont in on the revised Awful Truth About Merlin. They +spent a lot of their time together, in Travis's office, for the most +part sunk in dejection.</p> + +<p>They had finally found Merlin; now they must lose it. They were trying +to reconcile themselves and take comfort from the achievement, empty +as it was. They could see no way out. If Merlin said that Merlin had +to be destroyed, that was it. Merlin was infallible. Conn hated the +thought of destroying that machine with his whole being, not because +it was an infallible oracle, but because it was the climactic +masterpiece of the science he had spent years studying. To destroy it +was an even worse sacrilege to him than it was to the Merlinolators. +And Rodney Maxwell was thinking of the public effects. What the Travis +statement had started would be nothing by comparison.</p> + +<p>"You know, we can keep the destruction of Merlin a secret," Conn said. +"It'll take some work down at the power plant, but we can overload all +the circuits and burn everything out at once." He turned to Shanlee. +"I don't know why you people didn't think of that."</p> + +<p>Shanlee looked at him in surprise. "Why, now that you mention it, +neither do I," he admitted. "We just didn't."</p> + +<p>"Then," Conn continued, "we can tinker up something in the operating +room that'll turn out what will look like computation results. As far +as anybody outside ourselves will know, Merlin will still be solving +everybody's problems. We'll do like any fortuneteller; tell the +customer what he wants to believe and keep him happy."</p> + +<p>More lies; lies without end. And now he'd have a machine to do his +lying for him, a dummy computer that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> wouldn't compute anything. And +all he'd wanted, to begin with, had been a ship to haul some brandy to +where they could get a fair price for it.</p> + +<p>Peace had returned. At first, it had been a frightened and uneasy +peace. The bluff—he hoped that was what it had been—by the Koshchei +colonists had shocked everybody into momentary inaction. In the +twenty-four hours that had followed, the forces of sanity and order +had gotten control again. Merlin existed and had been found. As for +Travis's statement, the old general had been bound by a wartime oath +of secrecy to deny Merlin's existence. The majority relaxed, ashamed +of their hysterical reaction. As for the Cybernarchists and +Armageddonists and Human Supremacy Leaguers, government and private +police, vastly augmented by volunteers, speedily rounded up the +leaders; their followers dispersed, realizing that Merlin was nothing +but a lot of dials and buttons, and interestedly watching the +broadcast views of it.</p> + +<p>The banks were still closed, but discreet back-door withdrawals were +permitted to keep business going; so was the Stock Exchange, but word +was going around the brokerage offices that Trisystem Investments was +in the market for a long list of securities. Nobody was willing to do +anything that might upset the precarious balance; everybody was +talking about the bright future, when Merlin would guide Poictesme to +ever greater and more splendid prosperity.</p> + +<p>Conn's father and sister flew to Litchfield; Flora stayed with her +mother, and Rodney Maxwell returned to Force Command, shaking his head +gravely.</p> + +<p>"She's still unconscious, Conn," he said. "She just lies there, barely +breathing. The doctors don't know.... I wish Wade hadn't gone on the +ship."</p> + +<p>The price of what he had wanted to do was becoming unendurably high +for Conn.</p> + +<p>They ran off the computations Merlin had made forty years before, and +rechecked them. There had been no error. The Terran Federation, +overextended, had been cracking for a century before the War; the +strain of that conflict had started an irreversible breakup. Two +centuries for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> Federation as such; at most, another century of +irregular trade and occasional war between independent planets, Galaxy +full of human-populated planets as poor as Poictesme at its worst. Or, +aware of the future, sudden outbursts of desperate violence, then +anarchy and barbarism.</p> + +<p>It took a long time to set up the new computation. Forty years +of history for almost five hundred planets had to be abstracted +and summarized and translated from verbal symbols to the +electro-mathematical language of computers and fed in. Conn and Sylvie +and General Shanlee and the three men and two women Conn had taught on +Koshchei worked and rested briefly and worked again. Finally, it was +finished.</p> + +<p>"General; you're the oldest Merlin hand," Conn said, gesturing to the +red button at the main control panel, "You do it."</p> + +<p>"You do it, Conn. None of us would be here except for you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, General."</p> + +<p>He pressed the button. They all stood silently watching the output +slot.</p> + +<p>Even a positronic computer does not work instantaneously. Nothing +does. Conn took his eyes from the slot from which the tape would come, +and watched the second-hand of the clock above it. The wait didn't +seem like hours to him; it only seemed like seventy-five seconds, that +way. Then the bell rang, and the tape began coming out.</p> + +<p>It took another hour and a half of button-punching; the Braille-like +symbols on the tape had to be retranslated, and even Merlin couldn't +do that for itself. Merlin didn't think in human terms.</p> + +<p>It was the same as before. In ignorance, the peoples of the Federation +worlds would go on, striving to keep things running until they wore +out, and then sinking into apathetic acceptance. Deprived of hope, +they would turn to frantic violence and smash everything they most +wanted to preserve. Conn pushed another button.</p> + +<p>The second information-request went in: <i>What is the best course to be +followed under these conditions by the people of Poictesme?</i> It had +taken some time to phrase that in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> symbols a computer would find +comprehensible; the answer, at great length, emerged in two minutes +eight seconds. Retranslating it took five hours.</p> + +<p>In the beginning and for the first ten years, it was, almost item for +item, the Maxwell Plan. Export trade, specialized in luxury goods. +Brandies and wines, tobacco; a long list of other exportable +commodities, and optimum markets. Reopening of industrial plants; +establishment of new industries. Attainment of economic +self-sufficiency. Cultural self-sufficiency; establishment of +universities, institutes of technology, research laboratories. Then +the Maxwell Plan became the Merlin Plan; the breakup of the Federation +was a fact that entered into the computation. Build-up of military +strength to resist aggression by other planetary governments. Defense +of the Gartner Trisystem. Lists of possible aggressor planets. Revival +of interstellar communications and trade; expeditions, conquest and +re-education of natives....</p> + +<p>"We can't begin to handle this without Merlin," Conn said. "If that +means blowing up the Federation, let it blow. We'll start a new one +here."</p> + +<p>"No; if there's a general, violent collapse of the Federation, it'll +spread to Poictesme," Shanlee told him. "Let's ask Merlin the big +question."</p> + +<p>Merlin took a good five minutes to work that one out. The question had +to include a full description of Merlin, and a statement of the +information which must be kept secret. The answer was even more +lengthy, but it was summed up in the first word: <i>Falsification</i>.</p> + +<p>"So Merlin's got to be a liar, too, along with the rest of us!" Sylvie +cried. "Conn, you've corrupted his morals!"</p> + +<p>The rest of it was false data which must be taped in, and lists of +corrections which must be made in evaluating any computation into +which such data might enter. There was also a statement that, after +fifty years, suppression of the truth and circulation of falsely +optimistic statements about the Federation would no longer have any +importance.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's it," Conn said. "Merlin thought himself out of a death +sentence."</p> + +<p>They crowded into the lift and went down to the office<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> below. +Everybody who knew what had been going on upstairs was there. Most of +them were nursing drinks; almost everybody was smoking. All of them +were silent, until Judge Ledue took his cigar from his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Has the jury reached a verdict?" he asked, clinging with courtroom +formality to his self-control.</p> + +<p>"Yes, your Honor. We find the defendant, Merlin, not guilty as +charged."</p> + +<p>In the uproar his words released, Rodney Maxwell got to his feet and +came quickly to Conn.</p> + +<p>"Flora called just a while ago. Your mother is conscious; she's asking +for us. Flora says she seems perfectly normal."</p> + +<p>"We'll go right away; take a recon-car. General, will you explain +things till I get back? Sylvie, do you want to come with us?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + + +<p>It was autumn again, the second autumn since he had landed from the +<i>City of Asgard</i> at Storisende and taken the <i>Countess Dorothy</i> home +to Litchfield. Again the fields were bare and brown; all up and down +the Gordon Valley the melons were harvested, and the wine-pressing was +ready to start.</p> + +<p>The house was crowded today. All top-level Litchfield seemed to have +turned out, and there were guests from Storisende, and even a few who +had made the trip from Koshchei to be there, Simon Macquarte, the +president of Koshchei Tech; Conn would always remember him in the +screen threatening a whole planet with devastation. Luther Chen-Wong, +the chief executive of Koshchei Colony. Clyde Nichols, the president +of Koshchei Airlines.</p> + +<p>He almost bumped into Yves Jacquemont, coming in from the hall. +Jacquemont's beard had been trimmed down to a small imperial, and he +was wearing the uniform of Trisystem & Interstellar Spacelines, +nothing at all like a Federation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> Space Navy uniform. He was laughing +about something; he threw an arm over Conn's shoulder, and they went +into the front parlor together.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gehenna of a big crop!" he heard Klem Zareff's voice, chuckling +happily, above the babble in the room. "You wouldn't believe it. Why, +we had to build six new vats...."</p> + +<p>The thin-faced, white-haired man in the chair beside him said +something. Mike Shanlee and Klem Zareff, old enemies, were now fast +friends. Shanlee had come in from Force Command with Conn that +morning. He had stayed on Poictesme as nominal head of Project Merlin, +and intended to remain there for the rest of his life.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there aren't any more farm-tramps," Zareff replied. "Everybody's +getting factory jobs off-planet. I have an awful time getting help, +and what I can get won't work for less than ten sols a day. Why, +they're even organizing a union...."</p> + +<p>There were feminine shrieks from across the room, and a stampede. The +housecleaning-robot had come in, running its vacuum-cleaning hose +around and brandishing its mops. He saw his mother break away from a +group of older ladies and shout:</p> + +<p>"<i>Oscar!</i>"</p> + +<p>The robot stopped dead. "Yash'm?" a voice came out of it, +Sheshan-accented.</p> + +<p>"Go out!" his mother commanded. "Go to kitchen. Stay there."</p> + +<p>"Yash'm." The robot floated out the door to the hall.</p> + +<p>His mother rejoined her friends. Probably telling them, for the +thousandth time, that her boy Conn fixed up the sound receptors and +voice for Oscar. Or harping on how Conn had been telling everybody the +truth, all along, and people wouldn't believe him.</p> + +<p>Sylvie came up to him and caught his arm. "Come on, Conn; they're +going to start the rehearsal," she said.</p> + +<p>"They've been going to start it for an hour," her father told her.</p> + +<p>"Well, they're really going to start it now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right. You two run along," Yves Jacquemont said. "And you'd +better start rehearsing for your own wedding before long. The <i>Genji</i> +will be ready to hyper out in another month, and I don't want to be at +space when my only daughter gets married."</p> + +<p>They pushed through the crowd, dragging Conn's mother with them toward +the big living room beyond. On the way, Mrs. Maxwell stopped to try to +drag Judge Ledue out of a chair.</p> + +<p>"Judge, the rehearsal is starting; they can't do it without you."</p> + +<p>Ledue clung to his chair. "They daren't do it with me, Mrs. Maxwell. +If I get into it, it won't be a rehearsal; they'll be really married, +and then there won't be any point in having a wedding tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morgan!" Conn called across the room to Gatworth. "You've just +been appointed temporary judge for the wedding rehearsal!"</p> + +<p>There was a big crowd around Wade Lucas, in the next room; he was +telling them about the voyage to Baldur, from which he had returned, +and the one to Irminsul, with a cargo of arms, machine tools and +contragravity vehicles, on which he and his bride would go for their +honeymoon. There was another crowd around Flora; she was telling them +about the new fashions on Baldur, which had been brought back on the +<i>Ouroboros II</i>.</p> + +<p>"Where's your father?" his mother was asking him. "He has to rehearse +giving the bride away."</p> + +<p>"Probably in his office. I'll go get him."</p> + +<p>"You'll get into an argument with somebody and forget to come back," +his mother said. "Sylvie, you go with him, and bring both of them +back."</p> + +<p>"When'll we have our wedding, Sylvie?" he asked as they went off +together.</p> + +<p>"Well, before Dad goes to Aditya with the <i>Genji</i>. That'll have to be +in a month."</p> + +<p>"Two weeks? That ought to be plenty of time to get ready, and let +people recover from this one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Everybody's here now. Let's make it a double wedding tomorrow," she +suggested.</p> + +<p>He hadn't been prepared for that. "Well, I hadn't expected.... Sure! +Good idea!" he agreed.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd in Rodney Maxwell's little office—Fawzi and some +others, and some Storisende people. One of the latter was +vociferating:</p> + +<p>"Jake Vyckhoven's no good, and he never was any good!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you have to admit, if he hadn't ordered the banks and the Stock +Exchange closed that time, we'd have had a horrible panic—"</p> + +<p>"Admit nothing of the kind! Jethro, you were there, you'll bear me +out. About a dozen of us were at Executive Palace for hours, bullying +him into that. Why, we almost had to twist one of his arms while he +was signing the order with the other. And now he has the gall to run +for re-election on the strength of his heroic actions at the time of +the Travis Hoax!"</p> + +<p>"I know who we want for President!" another Storisende man exclaimed. +"He's right here in this room!"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Rodney Maxwell almost bellowed, before the other man could say +anything else. "Here he is!" He grabbed Kurt Fawzi by the arm and +yanked him to his feet. "Here's the man most responsible for finding +Merlin; the man who first suggested sending my son Conn to Terra to +school, the man who, more than anyone else, devoted his life to the +search for Merlin, the man whose inextinguishable faith and +indomitable courage kept that search alive through its darkest hours. +Everybody, get a drink; a toast to our next President, Kurt Fawzi!"</p> + +<p>Conn was sure he heard his father add: "Ghu, what a narrow escape!"</p> + +<p>Then he and Sylvie began chanting, in unison, "<i>We want Fawzi! We want +Fawzi!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>If you enjoyed this novel, you will also want to read:</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>SPACE VIKING</h2> + + + +<h3>by +<br/> +<br/> +H. BEAM PIPER</h3> + + +<p>After a galaxy-wide war had left the planetary federation in ruins, +every surviving civilized world was on its own. And that was a perfect +setup for the marauders from the far-out rim.</p> + +<p>Trask was one of those dreaded Space Vikings, a warrior spaceman with +a crew and a ship that struck terror to a thousand worlds. But Trask +had a special personal interest In scourging the stars—he wanted to +draw upon himself the fire of a certain enemy—a renegade +planet-wrecker with a yen for galactic empire building.</p> + +<p>Ace Book F-225 40¢</p> + +<p>Available at this price (plus 5¢ handling fee) from Ace Books, Inc. +(Dept. MM), 1120 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N.Y. 10036<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>Here's a quick checklist of recent releases of +<br/> +ACE SCIENCE-FICTION BOOKS</h3> + +<h3>40¢</h3> + +<p> +F-231 STAR GATE by Andre Norton<br /> +<br /> +F-236 THE TIME TRADERS by Andre Norton<br /> +<br /> +F-237 THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE by A. Bertram Chandler<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>and</i> BEYOND THE GALACTIC RIM by A. Bertram Chandler</span><br /> +<br /> +F-239 TIME AND AGAIN by Clifford D. Simak<br /> +<br /> +F-240 WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES by H. G. Wells<br /> +<br /> +F-241 STAR BRIDGE by Jack Williamson and J. Gunn<br /> +<br /> +F-242 THE RITES OF OHE by John Brunner<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>and</i> CASTAWAYS' WORLD by John Brunner</span><br /> +<br /> +F-243 LORD OF THUNDER by Andre Norton<br /> +<br /> +F-246 METROPOLIS by Thea von Harbou<br /> +<br /> +F-248 BEYOND THE STARS by Ray Cummings<br /> +<br /> +F-249 THE HAND OF ZEI by L. Sprague de Camp<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>and</i> THE SEARCH FOR ZEI by L. Sprague de Camp</span><br /> +<br /> +F-251 THE GAME-PLAYERS OF TITAN by Philip K. Dick<br /> +<br /> +F-253 ONE OF OUR ASTEROIDS IS MISSING by Calvin M. Knox<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>and</i> THE TWISTED MEN by A. E. van Vogt</span><br /> +<br /> +F-255 THE PRODIGAL SUN by Philip E. High<br /> +<br /> +F-257 ALIEN PLANET by Fletcher Pratt<br /> +<br /> +F-259 PRINCE OF PERIL by Otis Adelbert Kline<br /> +<br /> +F-261 THE TOWERS OF TORON by Samuel R. Delany<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>and</i> THE LUNAR EYE by Robt. M. Williams</span><br /> +<br /> +F-263 WEB OF THE WITCH WORLD by Andre Norton<br /> +</p> + +<p class='block'>If you are missing any of these, they can be obtained directly from +the publisher by sending the indicated sum, plus 5¢ handling fee, to +Ace Books, Inc. (Dept. M M), 1120 Avenue of the Americas, New York, +N.Y. 10036<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class='block'>"Is there really a Merlin?"<br /><br /> + +Everybody on the war-torn planet Poictesme believed it existed. And +they all believed that when this super-gigantic computer was located +amid the mountains of surplus equipment that was the planet's sole +source of revenue, it would mean Utopia for everyone.<br /><br /> + +Conn Maxwell knew different. He had studied the records on Earth and +he thought he knew the true facts about this cosmic computer. To tell +them would be to panic Poictesme, so instead he set about a new search +in his own way—with startling results.<br /><br /> + +H. Beam Piper, author of SPACE VIKING, has again produced an original +and unusual novel of the space future.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cosmic Computer, by Henry Beam Piper + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COSMIC COMPUTER *** + +***** This file should be named 20727-h.htm or 20727-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/2/20727/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bethanne M. Simms, Jason Isbell, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/20727-h/images/cover.gif b/20727-h/images/cover.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7e7662 --- /dev/null +++ b/20727-h/images/cover.gif diff --git a/20727-h/images/image001.gif b/20727-h/images/image001.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..433b40c --- /dev/null +++ b/20727-h/images/image001.gif diff --git a/20727-page-images.zip b/20727-page-images.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..360f63f --- /dev/null +++ b/20727-page-images.zip diff --git a/20727.txt b/20727.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35570c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/20727.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8321 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cosmic Computer, by Henry Beam Piper + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cosmic Computer + +Author: Henry Beam Piper + +Release Date: May 23, 2007 [EBook #20727] +[This file was first posted on March 3, 2007] +[Last updated: June 14, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COSMIC COMPUTER *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bethanne M. Simms, Jason Isbell, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + ++--------------------------------------------------------------+ +| Transcriber's Note: | +| | +| Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the | +| U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. | ++--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + +THE COSMIC COMPUTER +by +H BEAM PIPER + + +"There are incredible things still +undiscovered; most of the important installations were built in +duplicate as a precaution against space attack. I know where all of +them are. + +"But I could find nothing, not one single word, about any giant +strategic planning computer called Merlin!" + + +Nevertheless the leading men of the planet didn't believe him. They +couldn't, for the search for Merlin had become their abiding +obsession. Merlin meant everything to them: power, pleasures, and +profits unlimited. + +Conn had known they'd never believe him, and so he had a trick or two +up his space-trained sleeve that might outwit even their fabled Cosmic +Computer ... if they dared accept his challenge. + +_H. BEAM PIPER_ is rather enigmatic where his personal statistics are +concerned. It may be stated that he lives in Williamsport, +Pennsylvania, that he is an expert on the history and use of hand +weapons, that he has been writing and selling science-fiction for many +years to the leading magazines, and that he is highly rated among +readers for his skill and imagination. He has had several novels +published, including mysteries and juveniles. + +His previous appearances in Ace Books include two novels written in +collaboration with John J. McGuire: CRISIS IN 2140 (D-227) and A +PLANET FOR TEXANS (D-299), and a longer entirely self-authored novel +SPACE VIKING (F-225). + +THE COSMIC COMPUTER + +(Original Title: Junkyard Planet) + +H. BEAM PIPER + +ACE BOOKS, INC. + +1120 Avenue of the Americas + +New York, N.Y. 10036 + +THE COSMIC COMPUTER (JUNKYARD PLANET) + + +Copyright, 1963, by H. Beam Piper + + +An Ace Book, by arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons + + +All Rights Reserved + + +Printed in U.S.A. + + + + +I + + +Thirty minutes to Litchfield. + +Conn Maxwell, at the armor-glass front of the observation deck, +watched the landscape rush out of the horizon and vanish beneath the +ship, ten thousand feet down. He thought he knew how an hourglass must +feel with the sand slowly draining out. + +It had been six months to Litchfield when the _Mizar_ lifted out of La +Plata Spaceport and he watched Terra dwindle away. It had been two +months to Litchfield when he boarded the _City of Asgard_ at the port +of the same name on Odin. It had been two hours to Litchfield when the +_Countess Dorothy_ rose from the airship dock at Storisende. He had +had all that time, and now it was gone, and he was still unprepared +for what he must face at home. + +Thirty minutes to Litchfield. + +The words echoed in his mind as though he had spoken them aloud, and +then, realizing that he never addressed himself as sir, he turned. It +was the first mate. + +He had a clipboard in his hand, and he was wearing a Terran Federation +Space Navy uniform of forty years, or about a dozen regulation-changes, +ago. Once Conn had taken that sort of thing for granted. Now it was +obtruding upon him everywhere. + +"Thirty minutes to Litchfield, sir," the first officer repeated, and +gave him the clipboard to check the luggage list. Valises, two; +trunks, two; microbook case, one. The last item fanned a small flicker +of anger, not at any person, not even at himself, but at the whole +infernal situation. He nodded. + +"That's everything. Not many passengers left aboard, are there?" + +"You're the only one, first class, sir. About forty farm laborers on +the lower deck." He dismissed them as mere cargo. "Litchfield's the +end of the run." + +"I know. I was born there." + +The mate looked again at his name on the list and grinned. + +"Sure; you're Rodney Maxwell's son. Your father's been giving us a lot +of freight lately. I guess I don't have to tell you about Litchfield." + +"Maybe you do. I've been away for six years. Tell me, are they having +labor trouble now?" + +"Labor trouble?" The mate was surprised. "You mean with the +farm-tramps? Ten of them for every job, if you call that trouble." + +"Well, I noticed you have steel gratings over the gangway heads to the +lower deck, and all your crewmen are armed. Not just pistols, either." + +"Oh. That's on account of pirates." + +"Pirates?" Conn echoed. + +"Well, I guess you'd call them that. A gang'll come aboard, dressed +like farm-tramps; they'll have tommy guns and sawed-off shotguns in +their bindles. When the ship's airborne and out of reach of help, +they'll break out their guns and take her. Usually kill all the crew +and passengers. They don't like to leave live witnesses," the mate +said. "You heard about the _Harriet Barne_, didn't you?" + +She was Transcontinent & Overseas, the biggest contragravity ship on +the planet. + +"They didn't pirate her, did they?" + +The mate nodded. "Six months ago; Blackie Perales' gang. There was +just a tag end of a radio call, that ended in a shot. Time the Air +Patrol got to her estimated position it was too late. Nobody's ever +seen ship, officers, crew or passengers since." + +"Well, great Ghu; isn't the Government doing anything about it?" + +"Sure. They offered a big reward for the pirates, dead or alive. And +there hasn't been a single case of piracy inside the city limits of +Storisende," he added solemnly. + +The Calder Range had grown to a sharp blue line on the horizon ahead, +and he could see the late afternoon sun on granite peaks. Below, the +fields were bare and brown, and the woods were autumn-tinted. They had +been green with new foliage when he had last seen them, and the +wine-melon fields had been in pink blossom. Must have gotten the crop +in early, on this side of the mountains. Maybe they were still +harvesting, over in the Gordon Valley. Or maybe this gang below was +going to the wine-pressing. Now that he thought of it, he'd seen a lot +of cask staves going aboard at Storisende. + +Yet there seemed to be less land under cultivation now than six years +ago. He could see squares of bracken and low brush that had been melon +fields recently, among the new forests that had grown up in the past +forty years. The few stands of original timber towered above the +second growth like hills; those trees had been there when the planet +had been colonized. + +That had been two hundred years ago, at the beginning of the Seventh +Century, Atomic Era. The name "Poictesme" told that--Surromanticist +Movement, when they were rediscovering James Branch Cabell. Old Genji +Gartner, the scholarly and half-piratical space-rover whose ship had +been the first to enter the Trisystem, had been devoted to the +romantic writers of the Pre-Atomic Era. He had named all the planets +of the Alpha System from the books of Cabell, and those of Beta from +Spenser's _Faerie Queene_, and those of Gamma from Rabelais. Of +course, the camp village at his first landing site on this one had +been called Storisende. + +Thirty years later, Genji Gartner had died there, after seeing +Storisende grow to a metropolis and Poictesme become a Member Republic +in the Terran Federation. The other planets were uninhabitable except +in airtight dome cities, but they were rich in minerals. Companies had +been formed to exploit them. No food could be produced on any of them +except by carniculture and hydroponic farming, and it had been cheaper +to produce it naturally on Poictesme. So Poictesme had concentrated on +agriculture and had prospered. At least, for about a century. + +Other colonial planets were developing their own industries; the +manufactured goods the Gartner Trisystem produced could no longer find +a profitable market. The mines and factories on Jurgen and Koshchei, +on Britomart and Calidore, on Panurge and the moons of Pantagruel +closed, and the factory workers went away. On Poictesme, the offices +emptied, the farms contracted, forests reclaimed fields, and the wild +game came back. + +Coming toward the ship out of the east, now, was a vast desert of +crumbling concrete--landing fields and parade grounds, empty barracks +and toppling sheds, airship docks, stripped gun emplacements and +missile-launching sites. These were more recent, and dated from +Poictesme's second hectic prosperity, when the Gartner Trisystem had +been the advance base for the Third Fleet-Army Force, during the +System States War. + +It had lasted twelve years. Millions of troops were stationed on or +routed through Poictesme. The mines and factories reopened for war +production. The Federation spent trillions on trillions of sols, piled +up mountains of supplies and equipment, left the face of the world +cluttered with installations. Then, without warning, the System States +Alliance collapsed, the rebellion ended, and the scourge of peace fell +on Poictesme. + +The Federation armies departed. They took the clothes they stood in, +their personal weapons, and a few souvenirs. Everything else was +abandoned. Even the most expensive equipment had been worth less than +the cost of removal. + +The people who had grown richest out of the War had followed, taking +their riches with them. For the next forty years, those who remained +had been living on leavings. On Terra, Conn had told his friends that +his father was a prospector, leaving them to interpret that as one who +searched, say, for uranium. Rodney Maxwell found quite a bit of +uranium, but he got it by taking apart the warheads of missiles. + +Now he was looking down on the granite spines of the Calder Range; +ahead the misty Gordon Valley sloped and widened to the north. Twenty +minutes to Litchfield, now. He still didn't know what he was going to +tell the people who would be waiting for him. No; he knew that; he +just didn't know how. The ship swept on, ten miles a minute, tearing +through thin puffs of cloud. Ten minutes. The Big Bend was glistening +redly in the sunlit haze, but Litchfield was still hidden inside its +curve. Six. Four. The _Countess Dorothy_ was losing speed and +altitude. Now he could see it, first a blur and then distinctly. The +Airlines Building, so thick as to look squat for all its height. The +yellow block of the distilleries under their plume of steam. High +Garden Terrace; the Mall. + +Moment by moment, the stigmata of decay became more evident. Terraces +empty or littered with rubbish; gardens untended and choked with wild +growth; blank-staring windows, walls splotched with lichens. At first, +he was horrified at what had happened to Litchfield in six years. Then +he realized that the change had been in himself. He was seeing it with +new eyes, as it really was. + +The ship came in five hundred feet above the Mall, and he could see +cracked pavements sprouting grass, statues askew on their pedestals, +waterless fountains. At first he thought one of them was playing, but +what he had taken for spray was dust blowing from the empty basin. +There was a thing about dusty fountains, some poem he'd read at the +University. + +_The fountains are dusty in the Graveyard of Dreams; +The hinges are rusty, they swing with tiny screams._ + +Was Poictesme a Graveyard of Dreams? No; Junkyard of Empire. The +Terran Federation had impoverished a hundred planets, devastated a +score, actually depopulated at least three, to keep the System States +Alliance from seceding. It hadn't been a victory. It had only been a +lesser defeat. + +There was a crowd, almost a mob, on the dock; nearly everybody in +topside Litchfield. He spotted old Colonel Zareff, with his white hair +and plum-brown skin, and Tom Brangwyn, the town marshal, red-faced and +bulking above everybody else. Kurt Fawzi, the mayor, well to the +front. Then he saw his father and mother, and his sister Flora, and +waved to them. They waved back, and then everybody was waving. The +gangway-port opened, and the Academy band struck up, enthusiastically +if inexpertly, as he descended to the dock. + +His father was wearing a black suit with a long coat, cut to the same +pattern as the one he had worn six years ago. Blackout curtain cloth. +It was fairly new, but the coat had begun to acquire a permanent +wrinkle across the right hip, over the pistol butt. His mother's dress +was new, and so was Flora's, made for the occasion. He couldn't be +sure just which of the Federation Armed Forces had provided the +material, but his father's shirt was Med Service sterilon. + +Ashamed to be noticing things like that, he clasped his father's hand, +kissed his mother, embraced his sister. There were a few, but very +few, gray threads in his father's mustache; a few more squint-wrinkles +around the eyes. His mother's hair was all gray, now, and she was +heavier. She seemed shorter, but that would be because he'd grown a +few inches in the last six years. For a moment, he was surprised that +Flora actually looked younger. Then he realized that to seventeen, +twenty-three is practically middle age, but to twenty-three, +twenty-nine is almost contemporary. He noticed the glint on her left +hand and caught it to look at the ring. + +"Hey! Zarathustra sunstone! Nice," he said. "Where is he, Sis?" + +He'd never met her fiance; Wade Lucas hadn't come to Litchfield to +practice medicine until the year after he'd gone to Terra. + +"Oh, emergency," Flora said. "Obstetrical case; that won't wait on +anything. In Tramptown, of course. But he'll be at the party.... Oops, +I shouldn't have said that; that's supposed to be a surprise." + +"Don't worry; I'll be surprised," he promised. + +Then Kurt Fawzi was pushing forward, holding out his hand. Thinner, +and grayer, but just as effusive as ever. + +"Welcome home, Conn. Judge, shake hands with him and tell him how glad +we all are to see him back.... Now, Franz, put away the recorder; save +the interview for the _Chronicle_ till later. Ah, Professor Kellton; +one pupil Litchfield Academy can be proud of!" + +He shook hands with them: Judge Ledue, Franz Veltrin, old Professor +Dolf Kellton. They were all happy; how much, he wondered, because he +was Conn Maxwell, Rodney Maxwell's son, home from Terra, and how much +because of what they hoped he'd tell them. Kurt Fawzi, edging him +aside, was the first to speak of it. + +"Conn, what did you find out?" he whispered. "Do you know where it +is?" + +He stammered, then saw Tom Brangwyn and Colonel Klem Zareff +approaching, the older man tottering on a silver-headed cane and the +younger keeping pace with him. Neither of them had been born on +Poictesme. Tom Brangwyn had always been reticent about where he came +from, but Hathor was a good guess. There had been political trouble on +Hathor twenty years ago; the losers had had to get off-planet in a +hurry to dodge firing squads. Klem Zareff never was reticent about his +past. He came from Ashmodai, one of the System States planets, and he +had commanded a regiment, and finally a division that had been blasted +down to less than regimental strength, in the Alliance Army. He always +wore a little rosette of System States black and green on his coat. + +"Hello, boy," he croaked, extending a hand. "Good to see you again." + +"It sure is, Conn," the town marshal agreed, then lowered his voice. +"Find out anything definite?" + +"We didn't have much time, Conn," Kurt Fawzi said, "but we've +arranged a little celebration for you. We'll start it with a dinner at +Senta's." + +"You couldn't have done anything I'd have liked better, Mr. Fawzi. I'd +have to have a meal at Senta's before I'd really feel at home." + +"Well, it'll be a couple of hours. Suppose we all go up to my office, +in the meantime. Give the ladies a chance to fix up for the party, and +have a little drink and a talk together." + +"You want to do that, Conn?" his father asked. There was an odd +undernote of anxiety, or reluctance, in his voice. + +"Yes, of course. I'd like that." + +His father turned to speak to his mother and Flora. Kurt Fawzi was +speaking to his wife, interrupting himself to shout instructions to +some laborers who were bringing up a contragravity skid. Conn turned +to Colonel Zareff. + +"Good melon crop this year?" he asked. + +The old Rebel cursed. "Gehenna of a big crop; we're up to our necks in +melons. This time next year we'll be washing our feet in brandy." + +"Hold onto it and age it; you ought to see what they charge for a +drink of Poictesme brandy on Terra." + +"This isn't Terra, and we aren't selling it by the drink," Colonel +Zareff said. "We're selling it at Storisende Spaceport, for what the +freighter captains pay us. You've been away too long, Conn. You've +forgotten what it's like to live in a poor-house." + +The cargo was coming off, now. Cask staves, and more cask staves. +Zareff swore bitterly at the sight, and then they started toward the +wide doors of the shipping floor, inside the Airlines Building. +Outgoing cargo was beginning to come out; casks of brandy, of course, +and a lot of boxes and crates, painted light blue and bearing the +yellow trefoil of the Third Fleet-Army Force and the eight-pointed red +star of Ordnance. Cases of rifles; square boxes of ammunition; crated +auto-cannon. Conn turned to his father. + +"This our stuff?" he asked. "Where did you dig it?" + +Rodney Maxwell laughed. "You know the old Tenth Army Headquarters, +over back of Snagtooth, in the Calders? Everybody knows that was +cleaned out years ago. Well, always take a second look at these +things everybody knows. Ten to one they're not so. It always bothered +me that nobody found any underground attack-shelters. I took a second +look, and sure enough, I found them, right underneath, mined out of +the solid rock. Conn, you'd be surprised at what I found there." + +"Where are you going to sell that stuff?" he asked, pointing at a +passing skid. "There's enough combat equipment around now to outfit a +private army for every man, woman and child in Poictesme." + +"Storisende Spaceport. The freighter captains buy it, and sell it on +some of the planets that were colonized right before the War and +haven't gotten industrialized yet. I'm clearing about two hundred sols +a ton on it." + +The skid at which he had pointed was loaded with cases of M504 +submachine guns. Even used, one was worth fifty sols. Allowing for +packing weight, his father was selling those tommy guns for less than +a good cafe on Terra got for one drink of Poictesme brandy. + + + + +II + + +He had been in Kurt Fawzi's office before, once or twice, with his +father; he remembered it as a dim, quiet place of genteel conviviality +and rambling conversation. None of the lights were bright, and the +walls were almost invisible in the shadows. As they entered, Tom +Brangwyn went to the long table and took off his belt and holster, +laying it down. One by one, the others unbuckled their weapons and +added them to the pile. Klem Zareff's cane went on the table with his +pistol; there was a sword inside it. + +That was something else he was seeing with new eyes. He hadn't started +carrying a gun when he had left for Terra, and he was wondering, now, +why any of them bothered to. Why, there wouldn't be a shooting a year +in Litchfield, if you didn't count the Tramptowners, and they stayed +south of the docks and off the top level. + +Or perhaps that was just it. Litchfield was peaceful because +everybody was prepared to keep it that way. It certainly wasn't +because of anything the Planetary Government did to maintain order. + +Now Brangwyn was setting out glasses, filling a pitcher from a keg in +the corner of the room. The last time Conn had been here, they'd given +him a glass of wine, and he'd felt very grown-up because they didn't +water it for him. + +"Well, gentlemen," Kurt Fawzi was saying, "let's have a toast to our +returned friend and new associate. Conn, we're all anxious to hear +what you've found out, but even if you didn't learn anything, we're +still happy to have you back with us. Gentlemen; to our friend and +neighbor. Welcome home, Conn!" + +"Well, it's wonderful to be back, Mr. Fawzi," he began. + +"Here, none of this mister foolishness; you're one of us, now, Conn. +And drink up, everybody. We have plenty of brandy, if we don't have +anything else." + +"You can say that again, Kurt." That was one of the distillery people; +he'd remember the name in a moment. "When this new crop gets pressed +and fermented...." + +"I don't know where in Gehenna I'm going to vat mine till it +ferments," Klem Zareff said. + +"Or why," another planter added. "Lorenzo, what are you going to be +paying for wine?" + +Lorenzo Menardes; that was the name. The distiller said he was +worrying about what he'd be able to get for brandy. + +"Oh, please," Fawzi interrupted. "Not today; not when our boy's home +and is going to tell us how we can solve all our problems." + +"Yes, Conn." That was Morgan Gatworth, the lawyer. "You did find out +where Merlin is, didn't you?" + +That set them all off. He was still holding his drink; he downed it in +one gulp, barely tasting it, and handed the glass to Tom Brangwyn for +a refill, and caught a frown on his father's face. One did not gulp +drinks in Kurt Fawzi's office. + +Well, neither did one blast everybody's hopes with half a dozen words, +and that was what he was trying to force himself to do. He wanted to +blurt out the one quick sentence and get it over with, but the words +wouldn't come out of his throat. He lowered the second drink by half; +the brandy was beginning to warm him and dissolve the cold lump in his +stomach. Have to go easy, though. He wasn't used to this kind of +drinking, and he wanted to stay sober enough to talk sense until he'd +told them what he had to. + +"I hope," he said, "that you don't expect me to show you the cross on +the map, where the computer is buried." + +All the eyes around him began to look troubled. Most of them had been +expecting precisely that. His father was watching him anxiously. + +"But it's still here on Poictesme, isn't it?" one of the melon +planters asked. "They didn't take it away with them?" + +"Most of you gentlemen," he said, "contributed to sending me to school +on Terra, to study cybernetics and computer theory. It wouldn't do us +any good to find Merlin if none of us could operate it. Well, I've +done that. I can use any known type of computer, and train assistants. +After I graduated, I was offered a junior instructorship to computer +physics at the University." + +"You didn't mention that, son," his father said. + +"The letter would have come on the same ship I did. Besides, I didn't +think it was very important." + +"I think it is." There was a catch in old Dolf Kellton's voice. "One +of my boys from the Academy offered a place on the faculty of the +University of Montevideo, on Terra!" He finished his drink and held +out his glass for more, something he almost never did. + +"Conn means," Kurt Fawzi explained, "that it had nothing to do with +Merlin." + +All right; now tell them the truth. + +"I was also to find out anything I could about a secret giant computer +used during the War by the Third Fleet-Army Force, code-named Merlin. +I went over all the records available to the public; I used your +letter, Professor, and the head of our Modern History department +secured me access to non-public material, some of it still classified. +For one thing, I have locations and maps and plans of every Federation +installation built here between 842 and 854, the whole period of the +War." He turned to his father. "There are incredible things still +undiscovered; most of the important installations were built in +duplicate, sometimes triplicate, as a precaution against space attack. +I know where all of them are." + +"Space attack!" Klem Zareff was indignant. "There never was a time we +could have attacked Poictesme. Even if we'd had the ships, we were +fighting a purely defensive war. Aggression was no part of our +policy--" + +He interrupted: "Excuse me, Colonel. The point I was trying to make is +that, with all I was able to learn, I could find nothing, not one +single word, about any giant strategic planning computer called +Merlin, or any Merlin Project." + +There! He'd gotten that out. Now go on and tell them about the old man +in the dome-house on Luna. The room was silent, except for the small +insectile hum of the electric clock. Then somebody set a glass on the +table, and it sounded like a hammer blow. + +"Nothing, Conn?" + +Kurt Fawzi was incredulous. Judge Ledue's hand shook as though palsied +as he tried to relight his cigar. Dolf Kellton was looking at the +drink in his hand as though he had no idea what it was. The others +found their voices, one by one. + +"Of course, it was the most closely guarded secret ..." + +"But after forty years ..." + +"Hah, don't tell me about security!" Colonel Zareff barked. "You +should have seen the lengths our staff went to. I remember, once, on +Mephistopheles ..." + +"But there _was_ a computer code-named Merlin," Judge Ledue was +insisting, to convince himself more than anybody else. "Its +memory-bank contained all human knowledge. It was capable of scanning +all its data instantaneously, and combining, and forming associations, +and reasoning with absolute accuracy, and extrapolating to produce new +facts, and predicting future events, and ..." + +And if you'd asked such a computer, "Is there a God?" it would have +simply answered, "Present." + +"We'd have won the War, except for Merlin," Zareff was declaring. + +"Conn, from what you've learned of computers generally, how big would +Merlin have to be?" old Professor Kellton asked. + +"Well, the astrophysics computer at the University occupied a volume +of a hundred thousand cubic feet. For all Merlin was supposed to do, +I'd say something of the order of three million to five million. + +"Well, it's a cinch they didn't haul that away with them," Lester +Dawes, the banker, said. + +"Oh, lots of places on Poictesme where they could have hid a thing +like that," Tom Brangwyn said. "You know, a planet's a mighty big +place." + +"It doesn't have to be on Poictesme, even," Morgan Gatworth pointed +out. "It could be anywhere in the Trisystem." + +"You know where I'd have put it?" Lorenzo Menardes asked. "On one of +the moons of Pantagruel." + +"But that's in the Gamma System, three light years away," Kurt Fawzi +objected. "There isn't a hypership on this planet, and it would take +half a lifetime to get there on normal-space drive." + +Conn was lifting his glass to his lips. He set it down again and rose +to his feet. + +"Then," he said, "we will build a hypership. On Koshchei there are +shipyards and hyperdrive engines and everything we will need. We only +need one normal-space interplanetary ship to get out there, and we're +in business." + +"Well, I don't know we need one," Judge Ledue said. "That was only an +idea of Lorenzo's. I think Merlin's right here on Poictesme." + +"We don't know it is," Conn replied. "And we don't know we won't need +a ship. Merlin may be on Koshchei; that's where the components would +be fabricated, and the Armed Forces weren't hauling anything any +farther than they had to. Koshchei's only two and a half minutes away +by radio; that's practically in the next room. Look; here's how they +could have done it." + +He went on talking, about remote controls and radio transmission and +positronic brains and neutrino-circuits. They believed it all, even +the little they understood. They would believe anything he told them +about Merlin--except the truth. + +"But this will take money," Lester Dawes said. "And after that +infernal deluge of unsecured paper currency thirty years ago ..." + +"I have no doubt," Judge Ledue began, "that the Planetary Government +at Storisende would give assistance. I have some slight influence with +President Vyckhoven ..." + +"Huh-_uh_!" That was one of Klem Zareff's fellow planters. "We don't +want Jake Vyckhoven or any of this First-Families-of-Storisende +oligarchy in this at all. That's the gang that bankrupted the +Government with doles and work relief, and everybody else with +worthless printing-press money after the War, and they've been +squatting in a circle deploring things ever since. Some of these days +Blackie Perales and his pirates'll sack Storisende, for all they'd be +able to do to stop him." + +"We get a ship out to Koshchei, and the next thing you know we'll be +the Planetary Government," Tom Brangwyn said. + +Rodney Maxwell finished the brandy in his glass and set it on the +table, then went to the pile of belts and holsters and began rummaging +for his own. Kurt Fawzi looked up in surprise. + +"Rod, you're not leaving are you?" he asked. + +"Yes. It's only half an hour till time for dinner, and I think Conn +and I ought to have a little fresh air. Besides, you know, we haven't +seen each other for six years." He buckled on the heavy automatic and +settled the belt over his hips. "You didn't have a gun, did you, +Conn?" he asked. "Well, let's go." + + + + +III + + +It wasn't until they were down to the main level and outside in the +little plaza to the east of the Airlines Building that his father +broke the silence. + +"That was quite a talk you gave them, Conn. They believed every word +of it. I even caught myself starting to believe it once or twice." + +Conn stopped short; his father halted beside him. "Why didn't you tell +them the truth, son?" Rodney Maxwell asked. + +The question, which he had been throwing at himself, angered him. "Why +didn't I just grab a couple of pistols and shoot the lot of them?" he +retorted. "It wouldn't have killed them any deader, and it wouldn't +have hurt as much." + +"There is no Merlin. Is that it?" + +He realized, suddenly, that his father had known, or suspected that +all along. He started to say something, then checked himself and began +again: + +"There never was one. I was going to tell them, but you saw them. I +couldn't." + +"You're sure of it?" + +"The whole thing's a myth. I'm quoting the one man in the Galaxy who +ought to know. The man who commanded the Third Force here during the +War." + +"Foxx Travis!" His father's voice was soft with wonder. "I saw him +once, when I was eight years old. I thought he'd died long ago. Why, +he must be over a hundred." + +"A hundred and twelve. He's living on Luna; low gravity's all that +keeps him alive." + +"And you talked to him?" + +"Yes." + +There'd been a girl in his third-year biophysics class; he'd found out +that she was a great-granddaughter of Force General Travis. It had +taken him until his senior midterm vacation to wangle an invitation to +the dome-house on Luna. After that, it had been easy. As soon as Foxx +Travis had learned that one of his great-granddaughter's guests was +from Poictesme, he had insisted on talking to him. + +"What did he tell you?" + +The old man had been incredibly thin and frail. Under normal +gravitation, his life would have gone out like a blown match. Even at +one-sixth G, it had cost him effort to rise and greet the guest. There +had been a younger man, a mere stripling of seventy-odd; he had been +worried, and excused himself at once. Travis had laughed after he had +gone out. + +"Mike Shanlee; my aide-de-camp on Poictesme. Now he thinks he's my +keeper. He'll have a squad of doctors and a platoon of nurses in here +as soon as you're gone, so take your time. Now, tell me how things are +on Poictesme...." + +"Just about that," he told his father. "I finally mentioned Merlin, as +an old legend people still talked about. I was ashamed to admit +anybody really believed in it. He laughed, and said, 'Great Ghu, is +that thing still around? Well, I suppose so; it was all through the +Third Force during the War. Lord only knows how these rumors start +among troops. We never contradicted it; it was good for morale.'" + +They had started walking again, and were out on the Mall; the sky was +flaming red and orange from high cirrus clouds in the sunset light. +They stopped by a dry fountain, perhaps the one from which he had seen +the dust blowing. Rodney Maxwell sat down on the edge of the basin and +got out two cigars, handing one to Conn, who produced his lighter. + +"Conn, they wouldn't have believed you _and_ Foxx Travis," he said. +"Merlin's a religion with those people. Merlin's a robot god, +something they can shove all their problems onto. As soon as they find +Merlin, everybody will be rich and happy, the Government bonds will be +redeemed at face value plus interest, the paper money'll be worth a +hundred Federation centisols to the sol, and the leaves and wastepaper +will be raked off the Mall, all by magic." He muttered an +unprintability and laughed bitterly. + +"I didn't know you were the village atheist, Father." + +"In a religious community, the village atheist keeps his doubts to +himself. I have to do business with these Merlinolators. It's all I +can do to keep Flora from antagonizing them at school." + +Flora was a teacher; now she was assistant principal of the grade +schools. Professor Kellton was also school superintendent. He could +see how that would be. + +"Flora's not a True Believer, then?" + +Rodney Maxwell shook his head. "That's largely Wade Lucas's influence, +I'd say. You know about him." + +Just from letters. Wade Lucas was from Baldur; he'd gone off-planet +as soon as he'd gotten his M.D. Evidently the professional situation +there was the same as on Terra; plenty of opportunities, and fifty +competitors for each one. On Poictesme, there were few opportunities, +but nobody competed for anything, not even to find Merlin. + +"He'd never heard of Merlin till he came here, and when he did, he +just couldn't believe in it. I don't blame him. I've heard about it +all my life, and I can't." + +"Why not?" + +"To begin with, I suppose, because it's just another of these things +everybody believes. Then, I've had to do some studying on the Third +Force occupation of Poictesme to know where to go and dig, and I never +found any official, or even reliably unofficial, mention of anything +of the sort. Forty years is a long time to keep a secret, you know. +And I can't see why they didn't come back for it after the pressure to +get the troops home was off, or why they didn't build a dozen Merlins. +This isn't the only planet that has problems they can't solve for +themselves." + +"What's Mother's attitude on Merlin?" + +"She's against it. She thinks it isn't right to make machines that are +smarter than people." + +"I'll agree. It's scientifically impossible." + +"That's what I've been trying to tell her. Conn, I noticed that after +Kurt Fawzi started talking about how long it would take to get to the +Gamma System, you jumped right into it and began talking up a ship. +Did you think that if you got them started on that it would take their +minds off Merlin?" + +"That gang up in Fawzi's office? Nifflheim, no! They'll go on hunting +Merlin till they die. But I was serious about the ship. An idea hit +me. You gave it to me; you and Klem Zareff." + +"Why, I didn't say a word ..." + +"Down on the shipping floor, before we went up. You were talking about +selling arms and ammunition at a profit of two hundred sols a ton, and +Klem was talking as though a bumper crop was worse than a Green Death +epidemic. If we had a hypership, look what we could do. How much do +you think a settler on Hoth or Malebolge or Irminsul would pay for a +good rifle and a thousand rounds? How much would he pay for his +life?--that's what it would come to. And do you know what a fifteen-cc +liqueur glass of Poictesme brandy sells for on Terra? One sol; +Federation money. I'll admit it costs like Nifflheim to run a +hypership, but look at the difference between what these tramp +freighter captains pay at Storisende and what they get." + +"I've been looking at it for a long time. Maybe if we had a few ships +of our own, these planters would be breaking new ground instead of +cutting their plantings, and maybe we'd get some money on this planet +that was worth something. You have a good idea there, son. But maybe +there's an angle to it you haven't thought of." + +Conn puffed slowly at the cigar. Why couldn't they grow tobacco like +this on Terra? Soil chemicals, he supposed; that wasn't his subject. + +"You can't put this scheme over on its own merits. This gang wouldn't +lift a finger to build a hypership. They've completely lost hope in +everything but Merlin." + +"Well, can do. I'll even convince them that Merlin's a space-station, +in orbit off Koshchei. I think I could do that." + +"You know what it'll cost? If you go ahead with it, I'm in it with +you, make no mistake about that. But you and I will be the only two +people on Poictesme who can be trusted with the truth. We'll have to +lie to everybody else, with every word we speak. We'll have to lie to +Flora, and we'll have to lie to your mother. Your mother most of all. +She believes in absolutes. Lying is absolutely wrong, no matter whom +it helps; telling the truth is absolutely right, no matter how much +damage it does or how many hearts it breaks. You think this is going +to be worth a price like that?" + +"Don't you?" he demanded, and then pointed along the crumbling and +littered Mall. "Look at that. Pretend you never saw it before and are +looking at it for the first time. And then tell me whether it'll be +worth it or not." + +His father took a cigar from his mouth. For a moment, he sat staring +silently. + +"Great Ghu!" Rodney Maxwell turned. "I wonder how that sneaked up on +me; I honestly never realized.... Yes, Conn. This is a cause worth +lying for." He looked at his watch. "We ought to be starting for +Senta's, but let's take a few minutes and talk this over. How are you +going to get it started?" + +"Well, convince them that I can find Merlin and that they can't find +it without me. I think I've done that already. Then convince them that +we'll have to have a ship to get to Koshchei, and--" + +"Won't do. That'll take money, and money's something none of this gang +has." + +"You heard me talk about the stuff I found out on Terra? Father, you +have no idea what all there is. You remember the old Force Command +Headquarters, the one the Planetary Government took over? I know where +there's a duplicate of that, completely underground. It has everything +the other one had, and a lot more, because it'll be cram-full of +supplies to be used in case of a general blitz that would knock out +everything on the planet. And a chain of hospitals. And a spaceport, +over on Barathrum, that was built inside the crater of an extinct +volcano. There won't be any hyperships there of course, but there'll +be equipment and material. We might be able to build a ship there. And +supply depots, all over the planet; none of them has ever been opened +since the War. Don't worry about financing; we have that." + +His father, he could see, appreciated what he had brought home from +Terra. He was nodding, with quick head jerks, at each item. + +"That'll do it, all right. Now, listen; what we want to do is get a +company organized, a regular limited-liability company, with a +charter. We'll contribute the information you brought back from Terra, +and we'll get the rest of this gang to put all the money we can twist +out of them into it, so we'll be sure they won't say, 'Aw, Nifflheim +with it!' and walk out on us as soon as the going gets a little +tough." Rodney Maxwell got to his feet, hitching his gun-belt. "I'll +pass the word to Kurt to get a meeting set up for tomorrow afternoon." + +"What'll we call this company? Merlin Rediscovery, Ltd?" + +"No! We keep Merlin out of it. As far as the public is supposed to +know, this is just a war-material prospecting company. I'll impress on +them that Merlin is to be kept a secret. That way, we'll have to +engage in regular prospecting and salvage work as a front. I'll see to +it that the front is also the main objective." He nodded down the +Mall, toward the sunset, which was blazing even higher and redder. +"Well, let's go. You don't want to be late for your own welcome-home +party." + +They walked slowly, still talking, until they came to the end of the +Mall. The escalators to the level below weren't working. Now that he +thought of it, they hadn't been when he had gone away, six years ago, +but he could remember riding up and down on them as a small child. For +a moment they stood in the sunset light, looking down on the lower +terrace as they finished their cigars. + +Senta's was mostly outdoors, the tables under the open sky. The people +gathered below were looking at the sunset, too; Litchfielders loved to +watch sunsets, maybe because a sunset was one of the few things +economic conditions couldn't affect. There was Kurt Fawzi, the center +of a group to whom he was declaiming earnestly; there was his mother, +and Flora, and Flora's fiance, who was the uncomfortable lone man in +an excited feminine flock. And there was Senta herself, short and +dumpy, in one of her preposterous red and purple dresses, bubbling +happily one moment and screaming invective at some laggard waiter the +next. + +They threw away their cigars and started down the long, motionless +escalator. Conn Maxwell, Hero of the Hour, marching to Destiny. He +seemed to hear trumpets sounding before him. + +And an occasional muted Bronx cheer. + + + + +IV + + +The alarm chimed softly beside his bed; he reached out and silenced +it, and lay looking at the early sunlight in the windows, and found +that he was wishing himself back in his dorm room at the University. +No, back in this room, ten years ago, before any of this had started. +For a while, he imagined himself thirteen years old and knowing +everything he knew now, and he began mapping a campaign to establish +himself as Litchfield's Juvenile Delinquent Number One, to the end +that Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton and the rest of them would never +dream of sending him to school on Terra to find out where Merlin was. + +But he couldn't even go back to yesterday afternoon in Kurt Fawzi's +office and tell them the truth. All he could do was go ahead. It had +seemed so easy, when he and his father had been talking on the Mall; +just get a ship built, and get out to Koshchei, and open some of the +shipyards and engine works there, and build a hypership. Sure; +easy--once he got started. + +He climbed out of bed, knuckled the sleep-sand out of his eyes, threw +his robe around him, and started across the room to the bath cubicle. + +They had decided to have breakfast together his first morning home. +The party had broken up late, and then there had been the excitement +of opening the presents he had brought back from Terra. Nobody had had +a chance to talk about Merlin, or about what he was going to do, now +that he was home. That, and his career of mendacity, would start at +breakfast. He wanted to let his father get to the table first, to run +interference for him; he took his time with his toilet and dressed +carefully and slowly. Finally, he zipped up the short waist-length +jacket and went out. + +His father and mother and Flora were at the table, and the +serving-robot was floating around a few inches off the floor, steam +trailing from its coffee urn and its tray lid up to offer food. He +greeted everybody and sat down at his place, and the robot came around +to him. His mother had selected all the things he'd been most fond of +six years ago: shovel-snout bacon, hotcakes, starberry jam, things he +hadn't tasted since he had gone away. He filled his plate and poured a +cup of coffee. + +"You don't want to bother coming out to the dig with me this morning, +do you?" his father was saying. "I'll be back here for lunch, and +we'll go to the meeting in the afternoon." + +"Meeting?" Flora asked. "What meeting?" + +"Oh, we didn't have time to tell you," Rodney Maxwell said. "You know, +Conn brought back a lot of information on locations of supply depots +and things like that. An amazing list of things that haven't been +discovered yet. It's going to be too much for us to handle alone; +we're organizing a company to do it. We'll need a lot of labor, for +one thing; jobs for some of these Tramptowners." + +"That's going to be something awfully big," his mother said dubiously. +"You never did anything like that before." + +"I never had the kind of a partner I have now. It's Maxwell & Son, +from now on." + +"Who's going to be in this company?" Flora wanted to know. + +"Oh, everybody around town; Kurt and the Judge and Klem, and Lester +Dawes. All that crowd." + +"The Fawzis' Office Gang," Flora said disparagingly. "I suppose +they'll want Conn to take them right to where Merlin is, the first +thing." + +"Well, not the first thing," Conn said. "Merlin was one thing I +couldn't find out anything about on Terra." + +"I'll bet you couldn't!" + +"The people at Armed Forces Records would let me look at everything +else, and make microcopies and all, but not one word about computers. +Forty years, and they still have the security lid welded shut on +that." + +Flora looked at him in shocked surprise. "You don't mean to tell me +you believe in that thing?" + +"Sure. How do you think they fought a war around a perimeter of close +to a thousand light-years? They couldn't do all that out of their +heads. They'd have to have computers, and the one they'd use to +correlate everything and work out grand-strategy plans would have to +be a dilly. Why, I'd give anything just to look at the operating +panels for that thing." + +"But that's just a silly story; there never was anything like Merlin. +No wonder you couldn't find out about it. You were looking for +something that doesn't exist, just like all these old cranks that sit +around drinking brandy and mooning about what Merlin's going to do +for them, and never doing anything for themselves." + +"Oh, they're going to do something, now, Flora," his father told her. +"When we get this company organized--" + +"You'll dig up a lot of stuff you won't be able to sell, like that +stuff you've been bringing in from Tenth Army, and then you'll go +looping off chasing Merlin, like the rest of them. Well, maybe that'll +be a little better than just sitting in Kurt Fawzi's office talking +about it, but not much." + +It kept on like that. Conn and his father tried several times to +change the subject; each time Flora ignored the effort and returned to +her diatribe. Finally, she put her plate and cup on the robot's tray +and got to her feet. + +"I have to go," she said. "Maybe I can do something to keep some of +these children from growing up to be Merlin-worshipers like their +parents." + +She flung out of the room angrily. Mrs. Maxwell looked after her in +distress. + +"And I thought it was going to be so nice, having breakfast together +again," she lamented. + +Somehow the breakfast wasn't quite as good as he'd thought it was at +first. He wondered how many more breakfasts like that he was going to +have to sit through. He and his father finished quickly and got up, +while his mother started the robot to clearing the table. + +"Conn," she said, after his father had gone out, "you shouldn't have +gotten Flora started like that." + +"I didn't get Flora started; she's equipped with a self-starter. If +she doesn't believe in Merlin, that's her business. A lot of these +people do, and I'm going to help them hunt for it. That's why they all +chipped in to send me to school on Terra; remember?" + +"Yes, I know." Her voice was heavy with distress. "Conn, do you really +believe there is a ... that thing?" she asked. + +"Why, of course." He was mildly surprised at how sincerely and +straightforwardly he said it. "I don't know where it is, but it's +somewhere on Poictesme, or in the Alpha System." + +"Well, do you think it would be a good thing to find it?" + +That surprised him. Everybody knew it would be, and his mother didn't +share his father's attitude about things everybody knew. She hadn't +any business questioning a fundamental postulate like that. + +"It frightens me," she continued. "I don't even like to think about +it. A soulless intelligence; it seems evil to me." + +"Well, of course it's soulless. It's a machine, isn't it? An aircar's +soulless, but you're not afraid to ride in one." + +"But this is different. A machine that can think. Conn, people weren't +meant to make machines like that, wiser than they are." + +"Now wait a minute, Mother. You're talking to a computerman now." +Professional authority was something his mother oughtn't to question. +"A computer like Merlin isn't intelligent, or wise, or anything of the +sort. It doesn't think; the people who make computers and use them do +the thinking. A computer's a tool, like a screwdriver; it has to have +a man to use it." + +"Well, but...." + +"And please, don't talk about what people are _meant_ to do. People +aren't _meant_ to do things; they _mean_ to do things, and nine times +out of ten, they end by doing them. It may take a hundred thousand +years from a Stone Age savage in a cave to the captain of a hyperspace +ship, but sooner or later they get there." + +His mother was silent. The soulless machine that had been clearing the +table floated out of the room, the dishwasher in its rectangular belly +gurgling. Maybe what he had told her was logical, but women aren't +impressed by logic. She knew better--for the good old feminine reason, +_Because_. + +"Wade Lucas wanted me to drop in on him for a checkup," he mentioned. +"That's rubbish; I had one for my landing pratique on the ship. He +just wants to size up his future brother-in-law." + +"Well, you ought to go see him." + +"How did Flora come to meet him, anyhow?" + +"Well, you know, he came from Baldur. He was in Storisende, looking +for an opening to start a practice, and he heard about some medical +equipment your father had found somewhere and came out to see if he +could buy it. Your father and Judge Ledue and Mr. Fawzi talked him +into opening his office here. Then he and Flora got acquainted...." +She asked, anxiously: "What did you think of him, Conn?" + +"Seems like a regular guy. I think I'll like him." A husband like Wade +Lucas might be a good thing for Flora. "I'll drop in on him, sometime +this morning." + +His mother went toward the rear of the house--more soulless machines, +like the housecleaning-robot, and the laundry-robot, to look after. He +went into his father's office and found the cigar humidor, just where +it had been when he'd stolen cigars out of it six years ago and +thought his father never suspected what he was doing. + +Now, why didn't they export this tobacco? It was better than anything +they grew on Terra; well, at least it was different, just as Poictesme +brandy was different from Terran bourbon or Baldur honey-rum. That was +the sort of thing that could be sold in interstellar trade anytime and +anywhere; the luxury goods that were unique. Staple foodstuffs, +utility textiles, metal products, could be produced anywhere, and +sooner or later they were. That was the reason for the original, +pre-War depression: the customers were all producing for themselves. +He'd talk that over with his father. He wished he'd had time to take +some economics at the University. + +He found the file his father kept up-to-date on salvage sites found +and registered with the Claims Office in Storisende. Some of the +locations he had brought back data for had been discovered, but, to +his relief, not the underground duplicate Force Command Headquarters, +and not the spaceport on the island continent of Barathrum, to the +east. That was all right. + +He went to the house-defense arms closet and found a 10-mm Navy +pistol, and a belt and spare clips. Making sure that the pistol and +magazines were loaded, he buckled it on. He debated getting a vehicle +out of the hangar on the landing stage, decided against it, and +started downtown on foot. + +One of the first people he met was Len Yeniguchi, the tailor. He would +be at the meeting that afternoon. He managed, while talking, to +comment on the cut of Conn's suit, and finger the material. + +"Ah, nice," he complimented. "Made on Terra? We don't see cloth like +that here very often." + +He meant it wasn't Armed Forces salvage. + +"Father ought to be around to see you with a bolt of material, to have +a suit made," he said. "For Ghu's sake, either talk him into having a +short jacket like this, or get him to buy himself a shoulder holster. +He's ruined every coat he ever owned, carrying a gun on his hip." + +A little farther on, he came to a combat car grounded in the middle of +the street. It was green, with black trimmings, and lettered in black, +GORDON VALLEY HOME GUARD. Tom Brangwyn was standing beside +it, talking to a young man in a green uniform. + +"Hello, Conn." The town marshal looked at his hip and grinned. "See +you got all your clothes on this morning. You were just plain +indecent, yesterday.... You know Fred Karski, don't you?" + +Yes, now that Tom mentioned it, he did. He and Fred had gone to school +together at the Litchfield Academy. But the six years since they'd +seen each other last had made a lot of difference in both of them. He +was beginning to think that the only strangers in Litchfield were his +own contemporaries. They shook hands, and Conn looked at the combat +car and Fred Karski's uniform. + +"What's going on?" he asked. "The System States Alliance to business +again?" + +Karski laughed. "Oh, that's the Colonel's idea. Green and black were +his colors in the War, and he's in command of the regiment." + +"Regiment? You need a whole regiment?" Conn asked. + +"Well, it's two companies, each about the size of a regular army +platoon, but we have to call it a regiment so he can keep his old +Rebel Army rank." + +"We could use a regiment, Conn," Tom Brangwyn said seriously. "You +have no idea how bad things have gotten. Over on the east coast, the +outlaws are looting whole towns. About four months ago, they sacked +Waterville; burned the whole town and killed close to a hundred +people. That was Blackie Perales' gang." + +"Who is this Blackie Perales? I heard the name mentioned in connection +with the _Harriet Barne_." + +"Blackie Perales is anybody the Planetary Government can't catch, +which means practically any outlaw," Fred Karski said. + +"No, Fred; there is a Blackie Perales," Tom Brangwyn said. "He used to +be a planter, down in the south. The banks foreclosed on him when he +couldn't pay his notes, and he turned outlaw. That's the way it's +going, all around. Every time a planter loses his plantation or a +farmer loses his farm, or a mechanic loses his job, he turns outlaw. +Take Tramptown, here. We used to plant nothing but melons. Then, when +the sale for wine and brandy dropped, the melon-planters began cutting +their melon crops and raising produce, instead of buying it from up +north, and turning land into pasture for cattle. The people we used to +buy foodstuffs from couldn't sell all they raised, and that threw a +lot of farmhands out of work. So they got the idea there was work +here, and they came flocking in, and when they couldn't get jobs, they +just stayed in Tramptown, stealing anything they could. We don't even +try to police Tramptown any more; we just see to it they don't come up +here." + +"Well, where do these outlaws and pirates who are looting whole towns +come from?" + +"Down in the Badlands, mostly. None of them have been bothering us, +since we organized the Home Guard. They tried to, a couple of times, +at first. There may have been a few survivors; they spread it around +that Gordon Valley wasn't any outlaws' health resort." + +"Why don't you join us, Conn?" Fred Karski asked. "All our old gang +belong." + +"I'd like to, but I'm afraid I'm going to be kind of busy." + +Brangwyn nodded. "Yes. You will be, at that," he agreed. + +"So I hear," Fred Karski said. "Do you really know where it is, +Conn?" + +"Well, no." He went into the routine about Merlin being still +classified triple-top secret. "But we'll find it. It may take time, +but we will." + +They talked for a while. He asked more questions about the Home Guard. +His father, it seemed, had donated all the equipment. They had a +hundred and seventy men on the active list, but they had a reserve of +over eight hundred, and combat vehicles and weapons on all the +plantations and in all the towns along the river. The reserve had only +been turned out twice; both times, outlaw attacks had been stopped +dead--literally. The Home Guard, it appeared, was not given to making +arrests or taking prisoners. Finally, he parted from them, strolling +on along the row of stores and business places, many vacant, under the +south edge of the Mall, until he saw a fluorolite sign, WADE +LUCAS, M. D. He entered. + +Lucas wasn't busy. They went into his consultation office, and Conn +took off his gun-belt and hung it up; Lucas offered cigarettes, and +they lighted and sat down. + +"I see you've started carrying one," he said, nodding to the pistol +Conn had laid aside. + +"Civic obligation. I'm going to be too busy for Home Guard duty, but +if I can protect myself, it'll save somebody else the job of +protecting me." + +"Maybe if there weren't so many guns around, there wouldn't be so much +trouble." + +He felt his good opinion of Wade Lucas start to slip. The Liberals on +Terra had been full of that kind of talk, which was why only four out +of ten of last year's graduating class at Armed Forces Academy had +been able to get active commissions. The last war had been a disaster, +so don't prepare for another one; when it comes, let it be a worse +disaster. + +"Guns don't make trouble; people make trouble. If the troublemakers +are armed, you have to be armed too. When did you last see an Air +Patrol boat around here, or even a Constabulary trooper? All we have +here is the Home Guard and Tom Brangwyn and three deputies, and his +pay and theirs is always six months in arrears." + +Lucas nodded. "A bankrupt government, an unemployment rate that rises +every year, currency that buys less every month. And do-it-yourself +justice." The doctor blew a smoke ring and watched it float toward the +ventilator-intake. "You said you're going to be busy. This company +your father's talking about organizing?" + +"That's right. You're going to be at the meeting at the Academy this +afternoon, aren't you?" + +"Yes. Just what are you going to do, after you get it organized?" + +"Well, I brought back information on a great deal of undiscovered +equipment and stores that the Third Force left behind...." He talked +on for some time, keeping to safe generalities. "It's too big for my +father and me to handle alone, even if we didn't feel morally +obligated to take in the people who contributed toward sending me to +school on Terra. You ought to be interested in it. I know of six fully +supplied hospitals, intended to take care of the casualties in case of +a System States space-attack. You can imagine, better than I can, what +would be in them." + +"Yes. Medical supplies of all sorts are getting hard to find. But look +here; you're not going to let these people waste time looking for this +alleged computer, this thing they call Merlin, are you?" + +"We're looking for any valuable war material. I don't know the +location of Merlin, but--" + +"I'll bet you don't!" Lucas said vehemently. That was the same thing +Flora had said. + +"--but Merlin is undoubtedly the most valuable item of abandoned TF +equipment on this planet. In the long run, I'd say, more valuable than +everything else together. We certainly aren't going to ignore it." + +"Good heavens, Conn! You aren't like these people here; you were +educated at the University of Montevideo." + +"So I was. I studied computer theory and practice. I have some doubts +about Merlin being able to do some of the things these laymen like +Kellton and Fawzi and Judge Ledue think it could. Those sorts of +misconceptions and exaggerations have to be allowed for. But I have no +doubt whatever that the master computer with which they did their +strategic planning is probably the greatest mechanism of its sort ever +built, and I have no doubt whatever that it still exists somewhere in +the Alpha System." + +He almost convinced himself of it. He did not, however, convince Wade +Lucas, who was now regarding him with narrow-eyed suspicion. + +"You mean you categorically state that that computer actually exists?" + +"That, I think, was the general idea. Yes. I certainly do believe that +Merlin exists." + +Maybe he was telling the truth. Merlin existed in the beliefs and +hopes of people like Dolf Kellton and Klem Zareff and Judge Ledue and +Kurt Fawzi. Merlin was a god to them. Well, take Ghu, the Thoran +Grandfather-God. Ghu was as preposterous, theologically, as Merlin was +technologically; Ghu, except to Thorans, was a Federation-wide joke. +But he'd known a couple of Thorans at the University, funny little +fellows, with faces like terriers, their bodies covered with matted +black hair. They believed in Ghu the way he believed in the Second Law +of Thermodynamics. Ghu was with them every moment of their lives. Take +away their belief in Ghu, and they would have been lost and wretched. + +As lost and wretched as Kurt Fawzi or Judge Ledue, if they lost their +belief in Merlin. He started to say something like that, and then +thought better of it. + +Yes, Virginia, there _is_ a Santa Claus. + + + + +V + + +The meeting was at the Academy; when Conn and his father arrived, they +found the central hall under the topside landing stage crowded. Kurt +Fawzi and Professor Kellton had constituted themselves a reception +committee. Franz Veltrin was in evidence with his audiovisual +recorder, and Colonel Zareff was leaning on his silver-headed sword +cane. Tom Brangwyn, in an unaccustomed best-suit. Wade Lucas, among a +group of merchants, arguing heatedly. Lorenzo Menardes, the +distiller, and Lester Dawes, the banker, and Morgan Gatworth, the +lawyer, talking to Judge Ledue. About four times as many as had been +in Fawzi's office the afternoon before. + +Finally, everybody was shepherded into a faculty conference room; +there was a long table, and a shorter one T-wise at one end. Fawzi and +Kellton conducted them to this. Both of them were trying to preside, +Kellton because it was his Academy, and Fawzi ex officio as mayor and +professional leading citizen, and because he had come to regard Merlin +as his own private project. After everybody else was seated, the two +rival chairmen-presumptive remained on their feet. Fawzi was saying, +"Let's come to order; we must conduct this meeting regularly," and +Kellton was saying, "Gentlemen, please; let me have your attention." + +If either of them took the chair, the other would resent it. Conn got +to his feet again. + +"Somebody will have to preside," he said, loudly enough to cut through +the babble at the long table. "Would you take the chair, Judge Ledue?" + +That stopped it. Neither of them wanted to contest the honor with the +president-judge of the Gordon Valley court. + +"Excellent suggestion, Conn. Judge, will you preside?" Professor +Kellton, who had seen himself losing out to Fawzi, asked. Fawzi threw +one quick look around, estimated the situation, and got with it. "Of +course, Judge. You're the logical chairman. Here, will you sit here?" + +Judge Ledue took the chair, looked around for something to use as a +gavel, and rapped sharply with a paperweight. + +"Young Mr. Conn Maxwell, who has just returned from Terra, needs no +introduction to any of you," he began. Then, having established that, +he took the next ten minutes to introduce Conn. When people began +fidgeting, he wound up with: "Now, only about a dozen of us were at +the informal meeting in Mr. Fawzi's office, yesterday. Conn, would you +please repeat what you told us? Elaborate as you see fit." + +Conn rose. He talked briefly about his studies on Terra to qualify +himself as an expert. Then he began describing the wealth of abandoned +and still undiscovered Federation war material and the many +installations of which he had learned, careful to avoid giving clues +to exact locations. The spaceport; the underground duplicate Force +Command Headquarters; the vast underground arsenals and shops and +supply depots. Everybody was awed, even his father; he hadn't had time +to tell him more than a fraction of it. + +Finally, somebody from the long table interrupted: + +"Well, Conn; how about Merlin? That's what we're interested in." + +Wade Lucas snorted indignantly. + +"He's telling you about real things, things worth millions of sols, +and you want him to talk about that idiotic fantasy!" + +There was an angry outcry. Nobody actually shouted "_To the stake with +the blasphemer!_" but that was the general idea. Judge Ledue was +rapping loudly for order. + +"I don't know the exact location of Merlin." Conn strove to make +himself heard. "The whole subject's classified top secret. But I am +certain that Merlin exists, if not on Poictesme then somewhere in the +Alpha System, and I am equally certain that we can find it." + +Cheers. He waited for the hubbub to subside. Lucas was trying to yell +above it. + +"You admit you couldn't learn anything about this so-called Merlin, +but you're still certain it exists?" + +"Why are you certain it doesn't?" + +"Why, the whole thing's absurdly fantastic!" + +"Maybe it is, to a layman like you. I studied computers, and it isn't +to me." + +"Well, take all these elaborate preparations against space attack you +were telling us about. I think Colonel Zareff, here, who served in the +Alliance Army, will bear me out that such an attack was plainly +impossible." + +Zareff started to agree, then realized that he was aiding and +comforting the enemy. "Intelligence lag," he said. "What do you +expect, with General Headquarters thirty parsecs from the fighting?" + +"Yes. A computer can only process the data that's been taped into it," +Conn said. That was a point he wanted to ram home, as forcibly and as +often as possible. "I suppose Merlin classified an Alliance attack on +Poictesme as a low-order probability, but war is the province of +chance; Clausewitz said that a thousand years ago. Foxx Travis wasn't +the sort of commander to let himself get caught, even by a very +low-order probability." + +"Well how do you explain the absence, after forty years, of any +mention, in any history of the War, of Merlin? How do you get around +that?" + +"I don't have to. How do you get around it?" + +"_Huh?_" Lucas was startled. + +"Yes. Stories about Merlin were all over Poictesme, all through the +Third Force, even to the enemy. Say the stories were unfounded; say +Merlin never existed. Yet the belief in Merlin was an important +historical fact, and no history of the War gives it so much as a +footnote." He paused for effect, then continued: "That can mean only +one thing. Systematic suppression, backed by the whole force of the +Terran Federation. A gigantic conspiracy of silence!" + +Brother! If they swallow that, I have it made; they'll swallow +anything! + +They did, all but Lucas. He banged his fist on the table. + +"Now I've heard everything!" he shouted in disgust. + +"Not quite everything, Doctor," Morgan Gatworth said. "You will hear, +one of these days, that we have found Merlin." + +"Yes, that'll be the day!" Lucas sprang to his feet, his chair +toppling behind him. He shoved it aside with his foot. "I'm not going +to argue with you. Conn Maxwell gave you a thousand-year-old +quotation; I'll give you another, from Thomas Paine: 'To argue with +those who have renounced the use and authority of reason is as futile +as to administer medicine to the dead.' I'll add this. Conn Maxwell +knows better than this balderdash he's been spouting to you. I don't +know what his racket is, and I'm not staying to find out. You will, +though--to your regret." + +He turned and strode from the room. There was a moment's silence, +after the door slammed behind him. Too bad, Conn thought. He would +have made a good friend. Now he was going to make a very nasty enemy. + +"Well, let's get to business," his father said. "We don't have to +argue about the existence of Merlin; we know that. Let's discuss the +question of finding it." + +"I still think it's somewhere off-planet," Lorenzo Menardes said. "The +moons of Pantagruel...." + +Evidently he'd read something, or seen an old film, about the moons of +Pantagruel. + +"No, that's too far; they'd keep it where they could use it." + +"The old GHQ," Lester Dawes suggested. "Suppose it's down under that, +like the place Rodney found under Tenth Army." + +"I hope not," Gathworth said. "The Planetary Government took that +over." + +"Well, wherever it is, finding it is going to be expensive," Rodney +Maxwell said. "Now, to finance the search, I propose we use this +information my son brought back from Terra. Doctor Lucas was right +about one thing; that's worth millions of sols. Well, I propose, also, +that we set up a company and get it chartered; a prospecting company, +to operate under the Abandoned Property Act of 867. My son and I will +contribute this information as our share in the capitalization of the +company. The work of opening these Federation installations can go on +concurrently with the search for Merlin, and the profits can finance +it." + +Silence for a moment, then a bedlam of cheering. + +"Well, let's get organized," Gatworth said. "What will we call this +company?" + +A number of voices shouted suggestions. Rodney Maxwell managed to get +recognition and partial silence. + +"It is of the first importance," he said, "that we keep our real +objective--Merlin--as close a secret as possible. The Planetary +Government would like to get hold of it--and I leave you to ask +yourselves how far Jake Vyckhoven and his cronies are to be trusted +with anything like that--and I have no doubt the Federation might try +to take it away from us." + +"Couldn't do it, Rodney," Judge Ledue objected. "Everything the +Federation abandoned in the Trisystem is public domain now. We have a +Federation Supreme Court ruling--" + +"What's legality to the Federation?" Klem Zareff demanded. "They +fought a criminally illegal war of aggression against my people." + +Down the table, somebody started singing "Rally Round the Banner, the +Banner Black and Green." + +"Well, I think it's a good idea to keep quiet about it, myself," Kurt +Fawzi said. + +"All right," Rodney Maxwell said. "Then we don't want this company to +sound like anything but another salvage company. I suggest we call it +Litchfield Exploration & Salvage." + +"Good name, Rodney," Dawes approved. "That a motion? I second it." + +Unanimously carried. They had a name, now, anyhow. Everybody began +suggesting other topics for consideration--capitalization, application +for charter, election of officers, stock issues. Conn paid less and +less attention. Industrial finance and organization wasn't his +subject, either. His father was plunging happily into it as though he +had been promoting companies all his life. Conn sat and doodled with +his six-color pen, mostly spherical hyperspace ships. + +"We can't get all this cleared up now," Lester Dawes was protesting. +"Your Honor, I mean, Mr. Chairman; I suggest that committees be +appointed...." + +More hassling; everybody wanted to be on all the committees. Finally, +they appointed enough committees to include everybody. + +"Well, that seems to be cleared up," Judge Ledue said, "I suggest a +meeting day after tomorrow evening; the committees should have +everything set up, and we should be able to organize ourselves and +elect permanent officers. Is there anything else to discuss, or do I +hear a motion to adjourn?" + +Somebody thought they ought to have some idea of what the first +operation would be. + +"You heard me mention a spaceport," Conn said. "I can tell you, now, +that it's over on Barathrum, inside the crater of an extinct volcano. +I think we ought to have a look at that, first of all." + +"I know you seemed to think yesterday that Merlin is off-planet," +Fawzi said, "I'm inclined to disagree, Conn. I think it's right here +on Poictesme." + +"We ought to nail that spaceport down first," Conn argued. + +"Conn, you mentioned an underground duplicate of Travis's general +headquarters," Zareff said. "They thought we'd possibly send a fleet +here to blitz Poictesme, or they wouldn't have built that. And this +underground headquarters would be the safest place on the planet; +they'd make sure of that. Staff brass don't like to get caught out in +the rain, not when it's raining hellburners and planetbusters. Merlin +would be too big to take there along with them, so they'd put it there +in the first place." + +That made sense. If he'd been Foxx Travis, and if there had been a +Merlin, that was exactly where he'd have put it himself. But there was +no Merlin, and he wanted a ship. He argued mulishly for a little, then +saw that it was hopeless and gave in. + +"I want to find Merlin as much as any of you," he said. "More. Merlin +was the only thing I was trained for. We'll look there first." + +Somebody asked where, approximately, this underground Force Command +headquarters was. + +"Why, it's in the Badlands, over between the Blaubergs and the east +coast." + +"Great Ghu! We'll need an army to go in there!" Tom Brangwyn said. +"That's where all these outlaws have been coming from, Blackie Perales +and all." + +"Then we'll get an army together," Klem Zareff said happily. "Might +make a little of that reward money that's been offered." + +"We'll need more than that. Well need excavation equipment, and labor. +Lots of labor," Conn said. "It's a couple of hundred feet below the +surface; from the plans, I'd say they just dug a big pit, built the +headquarters in it, and filled it in. There are two entrances, a +vertical shaft and a horizontal tunnel." + +"When they pulled out, they probably filled the shaft and vitrified +the rock at the outer ends," his father added. "That was what they did +at Tenth Army." + +Another idea hit him. "Mr. Mayor, do you think you could set up some +kind of a public-works program here in Litchfield? We can't start this +till after the wine-pressing's over, and we'll need a lot of labor, as +I pointed out. Now, it's important that we keep all our projects a +secret until we can get our claims filed. If we start this municipal +fix-up-and-clean-up program, we can give work to a lot of these +drifters who haven't been able to get jobs on the plantations, get +them organized into gangs, and keep them together till we're ready for +the Force Command job." + +Lorenzo Menardes supported the idea. "And while they were boondoggling +around in Litchfield, we could pick out the best workers, get rid of +the incompetents, and train a few supervisors. That's going to be one +of our worst headaches; getting capable supervisors." + +"You telling me?" Rodney Maxwell asked. "That was what I was wondering +about: where we'd get gang-bosses. And another thing; this municipal +housecleaning would mask our real preparations." + +"Well, we need something like that," Fawzi said. "We've needed it for +a long time. I guess it took Conn, coming home from Terra, to see how +badly we've let the town get run down. Franz, suppose you and Tom +Brangwyn and Lorenzo form a committee on that. Look around, see what +needs fixing up worst, and set up a project. Who's city engineer now?" + +"Abe O'Leary; he died six years ago," Dawes said. "You never appointed +his successor." + +"Well, I guess I never got around to that," the mayor of Litchfield +admitted. + +When the meeting finally adjourned, they went up and got in the car; +his father lifted it straight up to thirty thousand feet and started +circling. An aircar was one place where they could talk safely. + +"Conn, I was kind of worried, down there. You were being a little too +positive. You know, you're only twenty-three. As long as you agree +with those people, you're a brilliant young man; you start getting +ideas of your own, and you're just a half-baked kid. You let the older +and wiser heads run things. You can't begin to hope to foul things up +the way they can. Look at all the experience they've had." + +"But we've got to have a ship. Everything depends on that." + +"I know it does. We'll get a ship. Let Kurt Fawzi and Klem Zareff and +the rest of them have this duplicate Force Command thing first, +though. Keep them happy. As soon as we have that opened, you can take +a gang and run over to Barathrum and grab your spaceport. Wait till +they find out that Merlin isn't at Force Command Duplicate. Then you +can convince them it's really on Koshchei." + + + + +VI + + +The car Rodney Maxwell got out of the hangar the next morning wasn't +the one he and Conn had gone to the meeting in; it was the one he had +flown in from Tenth Army HQ at noon of the previous day. An Army +reconnaissance job, slim and needlelike, completely enclosed, looking +more like a missile than a vehicle, and armored in dazzling, +iridescent collapsium. There was something to living on Poictesme, at +that; only a millionaire on Terra could have owned a car like that. + +"Nice," Conn said. "Where did you dig it?" + +"Where we're going, Tenth Army." + +"I'll bet she'll do Mach Three." + +"Better than that. I've never had her above 2.5, but the airspeed +gauge is marked up to four. And she has everything: all kinds of +detection instruments, cameras, audiovisual pickups, armament. And +the armor; you can take her through any kind of radiation." + +The armor was only a couple of micromicrons thick, but it would stop +anything. It was collapsed matter, the electron shells of the atoms +collapsed upon the nuclei, the atoms in actual contact. That plating +made eighth-inch sheet steel as heavy as twelve-inch armor plate, and +in texture and shielding properties, lead was like sponge by +comparison. + +They climbed in, and Rodney Maxwell snapped on the screens that served +as windows. Conn leaned back and looked at the underside view in a +screen on the roof of the car, as his father started the lift-engine. + +"Still think it's worth the price, son?" his father asked. + +The price had begun to rise; even so, he was afraid that what they had +paid so far was only the down payment. Dinner last evening. Flora, who +had evidently been talking to Wade Lucas, shouting accusations at +them; his mother fleeing from the table in tears. As the car rose, he +reached out and turned on and adjusted the telescreen for the +under-view. + +"Keep your eye on that, Father," he said. "That's what we're paying to +get rid of." + +A distillery, bigger than the Menardes plant, long closed and now half +roofless and crumbling. Rows of warehouses, empty after the War until +taken over by homeless vagrants. Jerry-built shanties with rattletrap +aircars grounded around them. Tramptown, a festering sore on the south +side of Litchfield. + +"If we put this over," he continued, "all those tramps will have +steady work and good homes. We can have a park there, with fountains +that'll work. Maybe even Flora and Mother will think we've done +something worth doing." + +"It'll be kind of hard to take in the meantime, though, but if you can +take it, I can." Rodney Maxwell turned off the underside teleview +screen and put on the forward one. "See that little pink spot over +there? Sunrise on the east side of Snagtooth; Tenth Army's just behind +us. Now, let's see if this airspeed gauge is telling the truth or just +bragging." + +Sudden acceleration pushed them back in their seats. The calibrations +on the gauge rose swiftly; the pink-lighted peak grew swiftly in the +teleview screen. The gauge hadn't been bragging, it had been +understating; the car had more speed than the instrument could +register. Two and a half minutes from Litchfield, they were +decelerating and swinging slowly around Snagtooth, looking down on a +tilted plateau that ended on the western side in a sheer drop of +almost a thousand feet. + +There were ruinous buildings on it: barracks and storehouses and +offices, an airship dock and an air-traffic control tower from which +all the glass had long ago vanished, a great steel telecast tower that +had fallen, crushing a couple of buildings. Young trees had already +grown among the wreckage. + +"Look over there, on the slope below it; there's one entrance to the +shelters." There was a clearing among the evergreens, half a mile from +the buildings, and raw earth, and a couple of big scows grounded near. +"They bulldozed rock and earth over the end of the tunnel. Then, +there's another one down on that bench, a couple of hundred feet below +the edge of the plateau. They blasted rock down over that. The main +entrance is a vertical shaft under that pre-stressed concrete dome. +That was chapel, auditorium, or something. They just covered it with +sheet metal and poured a foot of concrete on top." + +They floated down above the broken roofs and crumbling walls, and +grounded in the area between the main administration building and the +offices, back of the ship docks. Once, he supposed, it had been a +lawn. Then it had been a jungle. Now it was a scuffed, littered, +bare-trodden work-yard. Men were straggling out of the administration +building, lighting pipes and cigarettes; they all wore new but +work-soiled infantry battle dress. All of them waved and shouted +greetings; one, about Conn's own age, approached. As he got out, Conn +saw the resemblance to Lester Dawes, the banker, before he recognized +Anse Dawes, who had been one of his closest friends six years ago. +They shook hands and pounded each other on the back. + +"Hey, you're looking great, Conn!" They all told him that; he'd begin +to believe it pretty soon. "Sorry I couldn't make the party, but +somebody had to sit on the lid here, and Jerry Rivas and I cut cards +for it and Jerry won." + +"You didn't tell me Anse was with you," he reproached his father. +Rodney Maxwell said he'd been saving that for a surprise. + +When Conn asked Anse what was the matter with the bank, he said: "For +the birds; I'd as soon count sheets of toilet paper as this stuff +we're using for money. Sooner. Toilet paper can be used for something, +and this paper money's too stiff. Maybe some of this stuff we're +digging here isn't worth much, but at least it's real." + +That was something else the Maxwell Plan would have to take care of. +Gresham's Law was running hog-wild on Poictesme. A Planetary +Government sol was worth about ten centisols, Federation, and aside +from deposit boxes, woolen socks under the mattress, and tin cans +buried in the corner of the cellar, Federation currency was +nonexistent. + +"Had breakfast yet?" Rodney Maxwell asked. + +"Oh, hours ago. I was out and shot another spikenose; it's hanging up +back of the kitchen, waiting for the cook to skin it and cut it up." +He grinned at Conn. "You don't get this kind of hunting in a bank, +either." + +"Jerry still inside? I want to see him. Suppose you take Conn around +and show him the sights. And don't worry about him bumping you out of +a job. Worry about the six or eight extra jobs you'll have to do +besides your own, from now on." + +Conn and Anse crossed the yard and entered one of the office +buildings, through a big breach in the wall. Anse said: "I did that +myself; 90-mm tank gun. When we want a wall out of the way, we get it +out of the way." Inside were a lot of lifters and skids and power +shovels and things; laborers were assembling for work assignments. +Most of them had been with his father six years ago and he knew them. +They hadn't done any growing up in the meantime. They climbed into an +airjeep and floated out over the edge of the plateau, letting down +past the sheer cliff to where the lower lateral shaft had been opened. +A great deal of rock had been shoveled and bulldozed away to expose +it; it was twenty feet high and forty wide. Anse simply steered the +jeep inside and up the tunnel. + +There were occasional lights on at the ceiling. Anse said they were +all powered from their own nuclear-electric conversion units. "We +don't have the central power on here; there's a big mass-energy +converter, but we're tearing it down to ship out." + +That was something they could get a good price for. Maybe even +one-tenth of what it was worth. At least they wouldn't have to sell it +by the ton. + +The tunnel ended in an enormous room a couple of hundred feet square +and fifty high. There was a wide aisle up the middle; on either side, +contragravity equipment was massed. Tanks with long 90-mm guns. Combat +cars. Small airboats. Rank on rank of air-cavalry single-mounts, +egg-shaped things just big enough for a man to sit in, with quadruple +machine guns in front and flame-jets behind. Ambulances armored +against radiation; decontamination units; mobile workshops; mobile +kitchens. Troop carriers, jeeps, staff cars; power shovels, +manipulators, lifters. All waiting, for forty years, to swarm out as +soon as the bombs that never came stopped falling. + +They floated the jeep along hallways beyond, and got down to look into +rooms. Work was already going on in the power plant; a gang under a +slim young man whom Anse introduced as Mohammed Matsui were using +repair-robots to get canisters of live plutonium out of a reactor. +Workshops. Laundries. Storerooms. Kitchens, some stripped and a few +still intact. A hospital. Guardhouse and lockup. + +More storerooms on the level above, reached by returning to the +vehicle hangar and lifting to an upper entrance. By this time, gangs +were at work there, too, moving contragravity skids in empty and out +loaded. + +"The CO here must have had squirrel blood," Anse said. "I think when +the evacuation orders came through he just gathered up everything +there was topside and crammed it down here, any old way. Honest to +Ghu, this place was packed solid when we found it. Nobody'd believe +it." + +"Wait till you see the next one." + +"You mean there's another place like this?" + +"You can say so. You can say a twenty-megaton thermonuclear is like a +hand grenade, too." + +Anse Dawes simply didn't believe that. + +When they got back to the Administration Building on top, they found +Rodney Maxwell, Jerry Rivas, the general foremen, and half a dozen +gang foremen, in consultation. + +"We're getting a hundred and fifty more men and ten farm scows from +Litchfield," his father said. "Dave McCade's coming out from our yard, +and Tom Brangwyn's sending one of his deputies to help boss them. Well +have to keep an eye on this crowd; they're all Tramptown hoodlums, but +that's the best we can get. We're going to have to get this place +cleaned out in a hurry. We only have about two weeks till the +wine-pressing's over, and then we want to start the next operation. +Conn, did you see all that engineering equipment, down on the bottom +level?" + +"Yes. I think we ought to leave a lot of that here--the shovels and +bulldozers and manipulators and so on. We can move it direct to Force +Command. How are we fixed for blasting explosives?" + +"Name it and we have it. Cataclysmite, FJ-7, anything you want." + +"We'll need a lot of it." + +"We're going to have to get a ship. I mean a contragravity ship, a +freighter; first, to move this stuff out of here, and then to move the +stuff out of Force Command. And we want it mounted with heavy +armament, too. We not only want a freighter, we want a fighting ship." + +"You think so?" + +"I'm sure of it," Rodney Maxwell said. "Where we're going is full of +outlaws; there must be hundreds of them holing up over there. That's +where all the trouble on the east coast comes from. Now, outlaws are +sure-thing players. They want to be alive to spend their loot, and +they won't tackle anything that's too tough for them. A lot of guards +and combat equipment may look like a loss on the books, but the books +won't show how much of a loss you might take if you didn't have them. +I want this operation armed till it'll be too much for all the outlaws +on the planet to tackle." + +That made sense. It also made sense out of the billions of sols the +Federation had spent preparing for an invasion that never came. If it +had come and found them unprepared, the loss might have been the war +itself. + +The scows and the newly hired workers began arriving a little after +noon. The scows had been borrowed from plantations where the crop +had been gotten in; there were melon leaves and bits of vine in +the bottoms. The workers were a bleary-eyed and unsavory lot; +Conn had a suspicion, which Brangwyn's deputy confirmed, that +they had been collected by mass vagrancy arrests in Tramptown. +As soon as they started arriving, Jerry Rivas hurried down to +the old provost-marshal's headquarters and came back with a lot +of rubber billy-clubs, which he issued to his gang-bosses, regular +and temporary. A few times they had to be used. By evening, however, +the insubordinate and troublesome had been quieted. They would all +steal anything they could put in their pockets, but that was to be +expected. By evening, too, the contents of the underground treasure +trove was moving out in a steady stream, and scows were shuttling to +and from Litchfield. + +Rodney Maxwell was going back to town after lunch the next day. Conn +wanted to know if he should go along. + +"No, you stay here; help keep things moving. Remember what I told you +about the older and wiser heads? Let me handle them. I've been around +them, heaven pity me, longer than you have. Just give me an +audiovisual of your proxy and I'll vote your stock." + +"How much stock do I have, by the way?" + +"The same as I have--ten thousand five hundred shares of common, at +twenty centisols a share. But watch where it goes after we open Force +Command." + +His father was back, two days later, to report: + +"We're organized. Kurt Fawzi's president, of course, and does he love +it. That'll keep him out of mischief. Dolf Kellton's secretary; he has +an office force at the Academy and can conscript students to help. +He's organizing a research team from his seniors and post-grad +students to work in the Planetary Library at Storisende. There are a +lot of old Third Force records there; he may find something useful. Of +course, Lester Dawes is treasurer." + +"What are you?" + +"Vice-president in charge of operations. That's what I spent all +yesterday log-rolling, baby-kissing and cigar-passing to get." + +"And what am I, if it's a fair question?" + +"You have a very distinguished position; you are a non-office-holding +stockholder. The only other one is Judge Ledue; as a member of the +judiciary, he did not feel it proper to accept official position in a +private corporation. Tom Brangwyn's Chief of Company Police; Klem +Fawzi is Commander of the Company Guards. And we have a law firm in +Storisende lined up to handle our charter application. Sterber, Flynn +& Chen-Wong. Sterber's married to Jake Vyckhoven's sister, Flynn's son +is married to the daughter of the Secretary of the Treasury, and +Chen-Wong is a nephew of the Chief Justice. All of them are directly +descended from members of Genji Gartner's original crew." + +"You don't anticipate any trouble about getting the charter?" + +"Not exactly. And Lester Dawes is in Storisende now, trying to find us +a contragravity ship. There are about a dozen in the hands of +receivers for bankrupt shipping companies; he might find one that's +still airworthy. Oh; you remember how I insisted on absolute secrecy +about our Merlin objective? That's working out better than my fondest +expectations. It's leaking like a machine-gunned water tank, and +everybody it leaks to is positive that we know exactly where Merlin is +or we wouldn't be trying to keep it a secret." + +Three days later, Conn hitched a ride on a freight-scow to Litchfield. +From the air, he could see a haze of bonfire smoke over High Garden +Terrace, and a gang of men at work. There were more men at work on the +Mall and along the streets on either side. He went up from the yard +below the house, where the scow was being unloaded, and found his +mother in the living room watching a screen play with one eye and +keeping the other on a soulless machine like a miniature contragravity +tank, which was going over the carpet with a vacuum cleaner and taking +swipes at the furniture with a rotary dustmop. She was glad to see +him, and then became troubled. + +"Conn, when Flora comes home, you won't argue with her, will you?" + +"Only in self-defense." That was the wrong thing to say. He changed it +to, "No; I won't argue with her at all," and then quoted Wade Lucas +quoting Thomas Paine. Then he had to assure his mother a couple of +times that there really was a Merlin, and then assure her that it +wouldn't get loose and hurt anybody if he did find it. + +In the middle of his assurances about the harmlessness of Merlin, the +housecleaning-robot began knocking things off the top of a table. + +"Oscar! You stop that!" his mother yelled. + +Oscar, deaf as the adder, kept on. Conn yelled at his mother to use +her control; she remembered that she had one, a thing like an +old-fashioned pocket watch, around her neck on a chain, and got the +robot stopped. + +No wonder she was afraid of Merlin. + +He took advantage of the interruption to get to his room and change +clothes, then went up to the hangar and got out an air-cavalry mount. +About fifty men were working on High Garden Terrace, pruning and +trimming and leveling the lawns. There was a big vitrifier on the +Mall--even at five hundred feet he could feel the heat from +it--chuffing and clanking and pouring lavalike molten rock for a new +pavement. And all the nymphs and satyrs and dryads and fauns and +centaurs had had their pedestals rebuilt and were sand-blasted clean. + +He landed on the top of the Airlines Building and rode a lift down to +the office where Kurt Fawzi neglected the affairs of his shipline +agency, his brokerage business, and the city of Litchfield. The +afternoon habitues had begun to gather--Raymond Fitch, the +used-vehicles dealer, Lorenzo Menardes, Judge Ledue, Tom Brangwyn, +Klem Zareff. Fawzi was on the screen, talking to somebody with sandy +hair and a suit that didn't seem to be made of any sort of Federation +Armed Forces material, about warehouse facilities. The addresses they +were mentioning were in Storisende. + +"No, Leo, I don't know when," Fawzi was saying, "but don't you worry. +You just have space for it, and we'll fill it up. And don't ask me +what sort of stuff. You know what a salvage operation's like; you just +haul out the stuff as you come to it." + +Tom Brangwyn, lounging in one of the deep chairs, looked up. + +"Hello, Conn. We're having a time. Another two hundred tramps came in +on the _Countess_ this morning, and Ghu only knows how many in their +own vehicles, and they all seem to think if there's work for some +there ought to be work for all, and some of them are getting nasty." + +"We can use some more out at the dig. The ones you sent out Thursday +are doing all right, once they found out we weren't taking any +foolishness." + +Fawzi turned away from the screen. "Well, Conn, we're in," he said. +"The charter was granted this morning; now we're Litchfield +Exploration & Salvage, Ltd. And Lester Dawes has found us a +contragravity ship." + +"How much will it cost us?" + +Fawzi began to laugh. "Conn, this'll slay you! She isn't costing us a +centisol. You know those old ships on Mothball Row, back of the old +West End ship docks at Storisende?" + +Conn nodded. He'd seen them before he had gone away, and from the + +_City of Asgard_ coming in--a lot of old Army Transport craft, covered +with muslin and sprayed with protectoplast. The Planetary Government +had taken them over after the War and forgotten them. + +"Well, Lester's getting one of them for us under the old 878 +Commercial Enterprise Encouragement Act. She's an Army combat +freighter, regimental ammunition ship. Of course, she still has +armament; we'll have to pay to get that off." + +"Why?" + +Fawzi looked at him in surprise. "It would only be in the way and add +weight. We want her for a cargo ship, don't we?" + +"That's what she was built for. What kind of armament?" + +Fawzi didn't know. Klem Zareff did. + +"Four 115-mm rifles, two fore and two aft. A pair of lift-and-drive +missile launchers amidships. And a secondary gun battery of 70-mm's +and 50-mm auto-cannon. I know the class; we captured a few of them. +Good ships." + +Fawzi was horrified. "Why, that's more firepower than the whole Air +Patrol. Look, the Government won't like our having anything like +that." + +"They're giving her to us, aren't they?" Menardes asked. + +"Gehenna with what the Government likes!" the old Rebel swore. "If +they'd put a few of those ships into commission, they could wipe out +these outlaws and a private company wouldn't need an armed ship." + +"May I use your screen, Kurt?" Conn asked. + +When Fawzi nodded, he punched out the combination of the operating +office at Tenth Army, and finally got his father on. He told him about +the ship. + +"There's talk about tearing the armament out," he added. + +"Is that so, now? Well, I'll call Lester Dawes before he can get +started on it. I think I'll go in to Storisende tomorrow and see the +ship for myself. See what I can do about ammunition for those guns, +too." + +"But, Rod," Fawzi protested, joining the conversation, "we don't want +to start a war." + +"No. We want to stay out of one. You don't do that by disarming. We're +taking that ship down into the Badlands. Remember?" Rodney Maxwell +said. "Ever hear the name Blackie Perales?" + +Fawzi had. He stopped arguing about armament. Instead, he began +worrying about how much the civic clean-up campaign was costing +Litchfield. + +"You think we really need that, Rod?" + +"Of course we do. You'd be surprised how much labor we're going to +need, and how hard up we're going to be for capable supervisors. This +thing's a training program, Kurt, and we'll need every man we train on +it." + +"But it's costing like Nifflheim, Rod. We're going to bankrupt the +city." + +"Worse than it is now, you mean? Oh, don't worry, Kurt. As soon as we +find Merlin, everything'll be all right." + +Franz Veltrin came in, shortly after Rodney Maxwell was off the +screen. He dropped his audiovisual camera and sound recorder on the +table, laid his pistol-belt on top of them and took a drink of brandy, +downing it with the audible satisfaction of a thirsty horse at a +trough. Then he looked around accusingly. + +"Somebody's been talking!" he declared. "I've had all the news +services on the planet on my screen today; they all want the story +about what's happening here. They've heard we know where Merlin is; +that Conn Maxwell found out on Terra." + +"They just put two and two together and threw seven," Conn said. "A +_Herald-Guardian_ ship-news reporter interviewed me when I got in, and +found out I'd been studying cybernetics and computer theory on Terra. +What did you tell them?" + +"Complete denial. We don't know a thing about Merlin. Naturally, they +didn't believe me. A bunch of them are coming out here tomorrow. What +are we going to tell them? We'll all have to have the same story." + +"I," said Judge Ledue, "am not going to be interviewed, I am leaving +town till they're gone." + +"Why don't you steer them onto Wade Lucas?" Conn asked. "If you want +anything denied, he'll do it for you." + +Everybody thought that was a wonderful idea, except Klem Zareff, and +he waited until Conn was ready to go and rode up to the landing stage +with him. + +"Conn, I know this Lucas is going to marry your sister," he began, +"but how much do you know about him?" + +"Not much. He seems like a nice chap. I don't hold what he said at the +meeting against him. I suppose if I'd come from off-planet, I wouldn't +believe in Merlin either." + +"Hah! But doesn't he believe in Merlin?" + +"He makes noises like it." + +"You know what I think?" Klem Zareff lowered his voice to a whisper. +"I think he's a Federation spy! I think the Federation's lost Merlin. +That's why they haven't come back to get it long ago." + +"Pretty big thing to mislay." + +"It could happen. There'd only be a few scientists and some high staff +officers who'd know where it was. Well, say they all went back to +Terra on the same ship, and the ship was lost at space. Sabotage, one +of our commerce raiders that hadn't heard the War was over, maybe just +an ordinary accident. But the ship's lost, and the location of +Merlin's lost with her." + +"That could happen," Conn agreed seriously. + +"All right. So ever since, they've had people here, listening, +watching, spying. This Lucas; he showed up here about a year after you +went to Terra. And who does he get engaged to? Your sister. And what +does he do here? Goes around arguing that there is no Merlin, getting +people to argue with him, getting them mad, so they'll blurt out +anything they know. I'm an old field officer; I know all the +prisoner-interrogation tricks in the book, and that's always been one +of the best." + +"Then why did he act the way he did at the meeting? All he did there +was cut himself off from learning anything more from any of us. In his +place, would you have done that? No; you'd have tried to take the lead +in hunting for Merlin yourself. Now wouldn't you?" + +Zareff was silent, first puzzled, and then hurt. Now he would have to +tear the whole idea down and build it over. + +Flora was quite friendly when she came home from school. She'd found +out, somewhere, that Conn had been the originator of the municipal +face-lifting project. He was tempted, briefly, to tell her a little, +if not all, of the truth about the Maxwell Plan, then decided against +it. The way to keep a secret was to confide it to nobody; every time +you did, you doubled, maybe even squared, the chances of exposure. + +He told his father, when Rodney Maxwell came in from the dig, about +his talk with Klem Zareff. + +"How long's he been like that, anyhow?" he asked. + +"As long as I've known him. When it comes to melons and wine and +bossing tramp labor and taking care of his money and coming in out of +the rain, Klem Zareff's as sane as I am. But on the subject of the +Terran Federation, he's crazy as a bedbug. What is a bedbug, anyhow?" + +"They have them on Terra, in places like Tramptown. They have places +like Tramptown on Terra, too." + +"Uhuh. I suppose, in Klem's boots, I'd be just as crazy as he is," +Rodney Maxwell said. "One minute, he had a wife and two children in +Kindelburg, on Ashmodai, and the next minute Kindelburg was a puddle +of radioactive slag." + +"That was in '51, wasn't it? I read about it," Conn said. "It was a +famous victory." + +That was from a poem, too. + +Rodney Maxwell flew to Storisende early the next morning. Conn rode +back to Tenth Army on an empty scow and pitched into the job of +getting the stores and equipment out of the underground shelters. More +farm-tramps arrived, and had to be pounded into obedience and taught +the work. At the same time, Litchfield was getting a steady influx of +job-seekers, and a secondary swarm of thugs, grifters and gangsters +who followed them. Klem Zareff, having gotten all his melons pressed, +came out to Tenth Army, where he selected fifty of the best men from +the work-gangs and began drilling them as soldiers to guard the next +operation. The manual of arms, drill and salute he taught them was, of +course, System States Alliance. + +A week later, the ship arrived from Storisende; a hundred and sixty +feet, three thousand tons, small enough to be berthed inside a +hyperspace transport, and fast enough to get a load of ammunition to +troops at the front, unload, and get out again before the enemy could +zero in on her, and armed to fight off any Army Air Force combat +craft. The delay had been in recruiting officers and crew. The captain +and chief engineer were out-of-work shipline officers, the gunner was +a former Federation artillery officer, and the crew looked more like +pirates than most pirates did. + +They christened her the _Lester Dawes_, because Dawes had secured her +and because the name began with the initials of Litchfield Exploration & +Salvage. From then on, it was a race to see whether the Tenth Army +attack-shelters would be emptied before the wine was all pressed, or +vice versa. + + + + +VII + + +Fifty-two years before, they had come to the mesa in the Badlands and +dug a pit on top of it, a thousand feet in diameter and more than five +hundred deep, and in it they built a duplicate of the headquarters for +Third Fleet-Army Force Command. They built a shaft a hundred feet in +diameter like a chimney at one side, and they ran a tunnel out through +solid rock to the head of a canyon half a mile away. Then they buried +the whole thing. Twelve years later, when the War was over, they +sealed both entrances and went away and left it. + +For a month each winter, cold rains from the east lashed the desert; +for the rest of the year, it was swept by windblown sand. Wiregrass +sprouted, and thornbush grew; Nature, the master-camoufleur, completed +the work of hiding the forgotten headquarters. Little things not +unlike rabbits scampered over it, and bigger things, vaguely foxlike, +hunted them. Hunted men came, too, their aircars skimming low. None of +them had the least idea what was underneath. + +The mesa-top came suddenly to life, just as the sun edged up out of +the east. Conn and his father and Anse Dawes came in first, in the +recon-car with which they had scouted and photographed the site a few +days before. They circled at a thousand feet, fired a smoke bomb, and +then let down near where Conn's map showed the head of the vertical +shaft. The rest followed, first a couple of combat cars that circled +slowly, scanning the ground, and then the _Lester Dawes_ with her big +guns and her load of equipment, and behind a queue of boats and scows +and heavy engineering equipment on contragravity and troop carriers +full of workmen and guards, flanked by air cavalry, which circled +above while everything else landed, then scattered out over a +fifty-mile radius. Occasionally there was a hammering of machine guns, +either because somebody saw something on the ground that might need +shooting at or simply because it was a beautiful morning to make a +noise. + +The ship settled quickly and daintily, while Conn and Anse and Rodney +Maxwell sat in the car and watched. Immediately, she began opening +like a beetle bursting from its shell, large sections of armor +swinging outward. Except for the bridge and the gun turrets, almost +the whole ship could be opened; she had been designed to land in the +middle of a battle and deliver ammunition when seconds could mean the +difference between life and death. Jeeps and lifters and manipulators +and things floated out of her. Scows began landing and unloading +prefab-hut elements. A water tank landed, and the cook-shed began +going up beside it; a lorry came in with scanning and probing +equipment, and a couple of men jumped off and huddled over a +photoprint copy of one of Conn's maps. + +Conn lifted the car again and coasted it half a mile to where the +cleft in the mesa started. There were half a dozen claw-armed +manipulators already there, and two giant power shovels. Jerry Rivas +and one of the engineers Kurt Fawzi had hired had gotten out of a jeep +and were looking at another photoprint of the map. Rivas pointed to +the head of the canyon, where a mass of rock had slid down. + +"That's it; you can still see where they put off the shots." + +The canyon was long enough and wide enough for the _Lester Dawes_ +to land in it; she could be loaded directly from the tunnel. The +manipulators began moving in, wrestling with the larger chunks of +rock and dragging or carrying them away. Power shovels began grunting +and clanking and rumbling; dust rose in a thick column. Toward +midmorning, the troop carriers which served as school buses in +Litchfield arrived, loaded with more workmen. A lorry lettered +STORISENDE HERALD-GUARDIAN came in, hovered over the canyon, and +began transmitting audiovisuals. More news-folk put in an appearance. + +The earth and rock at the top of the tunnel entrance fell away, +revealing the vitrified stone lintel; everybody cheered and dug +harder. More aircars arrived, getting in each other's and everybody +else's way. Raymond Fitch, Lester Dawes, Lorenzo Menardes and Morgan +Gatworth. Dolf Kellton, playing hookey from school. Kurt Fawzi; he +landed in the canyon and watched every shovelful of rock lifted, as +though trying to help with mental force. Tom Brangwyn, with a score of +the Home Guard to reinforce the Company Police. Klem Zareff called in +his air cavalry to help control the sightseers. Nobody was making +trouble; they were just getting in the way. + +At eleven, Rodney Maxwell went aboard the _Lester Dawes_ to use the +radio and telescreen equipment. By then, two time zones west in +Storisende, the Claims Office was opening; he filed preliminary claim +to an underground installation with at least two entrances in +uninhabited country, and claimed a ten-mile radius around it. By that +time, the gang working on top had uncovered a vitrified slab over the +hundred-foot circle of the vertical shaft and were cracking it with +explosives. According to the scanners, it was full of loose rubble for +a hundred feet down. Below that, the microrays hit something +impenetrable. + +Toward midafternoon, the tunnel in the canyon was cleared. It had been +vitrified solid; the scanners reported that it was plugged for ten +feet. A contragravity tank let down in front of it, with a solenoid +jackhammer mounted where the gun should have been, and began pounding, +running a hole in for a blast shot. There were more explosions +topside; when Conn took a jeep up to observe progress there, he found +the vitrified rock blown completely off the vertical shaft, exposing +the rubble that had been dumped into it. The gang on the mesa-top had +discovered something else; a grid of auro-copper bussbars buried four +feet underground. Ten to one, radio and telescreen signals would be +transmitted to that from below, and then probably picked up and +rebroadcast from a relay station on one or another of the high buttes +in the neighborhood. Time enough to look for that later. He returned +to the canyon, where the lateral tunnel was now almost completely +open. + +When it was clear, they sent a snooper in first. It was a robot, +looking slightly like a short-tailed tadpole, six feet long by three +feet at the thickest. It transmitted a view of the tunnel as it went +slowly in; the air, it found, was breathable, and there were no +harmful radiations or other dangers. According to the plans, there +should be a big room at the other end, slightly curved, a hundred feet +wide by a hundred on either side of the tunnel entrance. The robot +entered this, and in its headlight they could see reconnaissance-cars, +and contragravity tanks with 90-mm guns. It swerved slightly to the +left, and then the screen stopped receiving, the telemetered +instruments went dead and the robot's signal stopped. + +"Tom," Rodney Maxwell said, "you keep the crowd back. Klem, stay with +the screens; I'll transmit to you. I'm going in to see what's wrong." + +He started to give Conn an argument when he wanted to accompany him. + +"No," Conn said. "I'm going along. What do you think I went to Terra +to study robotics for?" + +His father snapped on the screen and pickup of the jeep that was +standing nearby. "You getting it, Klem?" he asked. "Okay, Conn. Let's +go." + +Half a mile ahead, at the other end of the tunnel, they could see a +flicker of light that grew brighter as they advanced. The snooper +still had its light on and was moving about. Once they caught a +momentary signal from it. As Rodney Maxwell piloted the jeep, Conn +kept talking to Klem Zareff, outside. Then they were at the end of the +tunnel and entering the room ahead; it was full of vehicles, like the +one on the bottom level at Tenth Army HQ. As soon as they were inside, +Klem Zareff's voice in the radio stopped, as though the set had been +shot out. + +"Klem! What's wrong? We aren't getting you," his father was saying. + +The snooper was drifting aimlessly about, avoiding the parked +vehicles. Conn used the manual control to set it down and deactivate +it, then got out and went to examine it. + +"Take the jeep over to the tunnel entrance," he told his father. +"Move out into the tunnel a few feet; relay from me to Klem." + +The jeep moved over. A moment later his father cried, "He's getting +me; I'm getting him. What's the matter with the radio in here? The +snooper's all right, isn't it?" + +It was. Conn reactivated it and put it up above the tops of the +vehicles. + +"Sure. We just can't transmit out." + +"But only half a mile of rock; that set's good for more than that. +It'll transmit clear through Snagtooth." + +"It won't transmit through collapsium." + +His father swore disgustedly, repeating it to Zareff outside. Conn +could hear the old soldier, in the radio, make a similar remark. They +should have all expected that, in the first place. If the Third Force +High Command was expecting to sit out a nuclear bombardment in this +place, they'd armor it against anything. + +"Bring the gang in; it's safe as far as we've gotten," his father +said. "We'll just have to string wires out." + +Conn used his flashlight and found the power unit for the room lights; +all the overhead lights were wired to one unit, if wired were the word +for gold-leaf circuits cemented to the walls and covered with +insulating paint. For the heavy stuff, like the ventilator fans, +they'd have to find the central power plant. He looked around the big +room, poking into some of the closets that lined it. Radiation-proof +clothing. Tools. Arms and ammunition. First-aid kits. Emergency +rations. All the vehicles were plated in shimmering collapsium. + +The crowd started coming in: the work-gangs selected for the first +exploration work, most of them old hands of Rodney Maxwell's; the +engineers they had recruited; Mohammed Matsui--he had a gang of his +own, the same one he had been using in tearing down the converter at +Tenth Army; the stockholders and officials; the press. And everybody +else Tom Brangwyn's police hadn't been able to keep out. + +The power plant was at the extreme bottom; Matsui began looking it over +at once. Above it they found the service facilities--air-and-water +plant; pumps for the artesian well; sewage disposal. Then repair ships, +and a laboratory, and laundries and kitchens above that. + +"Where do you suppose it is?" Kurt Fawzi was asking. "Up at the very +top, I suppose. Let's go up and work down; I can't wait till we've +found it." + +Like a kid on Christmas Eve, Conn thought. And there was no Santa +Claus, and Christmas had been abolished. + +The place was built in concentric circles, level above level. Combat +equipment nearest the tunnel exit and nearest the vertical shaft, and +ambulances and decontamination units and equipment for relief and +rebuilding next. Storerooms, mile on circular mile of them. Not the +hasty packrat cramming he'd seen at Tenth Army; everything had been +brought in in order, carefully piled or racked, and then left. More +stores for the next three levels up; then living quarters. Enlisted +men's and women's quarters, no signs of occupancy. Enlisted kitchens +and mess halls, untouched. + +Most of the officers' quarters were similarly unused, but here and +there some had been occupied. A sloppily made bed. A used cake of soap +in the bathroom. An empty bottle in a closet. Officers' commissary +stores had been used from and replaced; the officers' mess hall and +kitchen had been in constant use, and the officers' club had a +comfortably scuffed and lived-in look. There had been a few people +there all the time of the War. + +"Men and women, all officers or civilians," Klem Zareff said. "Didn't +even have enlisted men to cook for them. And we haven't found a scrap +of paper with writing on it, or an inch of recorded sound-tape or +audiovisual film. Remember those big wire baskets, down at the +mass-energy converters? Before they left, they disintegrated every +scrap of writing or recording. This is where Merlin is; they were the +people who worked with it." + +And above, offices. General Staff. War Planning, with an incredibly +complex star-map of the theater of war. Judge Advocate General. +Inspector General. Service of Supply. They were full of computers, +each one firing the hopes of people like Fawzi and Dolf Kellton and +Judge Ledue, but they were only special-purpose machines, the sort to +be found in any big business office. The Storisende Stock Exchange +probably had much bigger ones. + +Then they found big ones, rank on rank of cabinets, long consoles +studded with lights and buttons, programming machines. + +"It's Merlin!" Fawzi almost screamed. "We've found it!" + +One of the reporters who had followed them in snatched his radio +handphone from his belt and jabbered, then, realizing that the +collapsium shielding kept him from getting out with it, he replaced it +and bolted away. + +"Hold it!" Conn yelled at the others, who were also becoming +hysterical. "Wait till I take a look at this thing." + +They managed to calm themselves. After all, he should know what it +was; wasn't that why he'd gone to school on Terra? They followed him +from machine to machine, first hopefully and then fearfully. Finally +he turned, shaking his head and feeling like the doctor in a film +show, telling the family that there's no hope for Grandpa. + +"This is not Merlin. This is the personnel-file machine. It's taped +for the records and data of every man and woman in the Third Force for +the whole War. It's like the student-record machine at the +University." + +"Might have known it; this section in here's marked G-1 all over +everything; that's personnel. Wouldn't have Merlin in here," Klem +Zareff was saying. + +"Well, we'll just keep on hunting for it till we do find it," Kurt +Fawzi said. "It's here somewhere. It has to be." + +The next level up was much smaller. Here were the offices of the top +echelons of the Force Command Staff. They, unlike the ones below, had +been used; from them, too, every scrap of writing or film or +record-tape had vanished. + +Finally, they entered the private office of Force-General Foxx Travis. +It had not only been used, it was in disorder. Ashtrays full, many of +the forty-year-old cigarette ends lipstick tinted. Chairs shoved +around at random. Three bottles on the desk, with Terran bourbon +labels; two empty and one with about an inch of whisky left in it. But +no glasses. + +That bothered Conn. Somehow, he couldn't quite picture the commander +and staff of the Third Fleet-Army Force passing bottles around and +drinking from the neck. Then he noticed that the wall across the room +was strangely scarred and scratched. Dropping his eye to the floor +under it, he caught the twinkle of broken glass. They had gathered +here, and talked for a long time. Then they had risen, for a final +toast, and when it was drunk, they had hurled their glasses against +the wall and smashed them. + +Then they had gone out, leaving the broken glass and the empty +bottles; knowing that they would never return. + + + + +VIII + + +Before they returned to the lower level into which the lateral tunnel +entered, Matsui and his gang had the power plant going; the ventilator +fans were humming softly, and whenever they pressed a starting button, +the escalators began to move. They got the pumps going, and the +oxygen-generators, and the sewage disposal system. Until the +communication center could be checked and the relay station found, +they ran a cable out to the _Lester Dawes_, landed in the canyon, and +used her screen-and-radio equipment. Before the Claims Office in +Storisende closed, Rodney Maxwell had transmitted in recorded views of +the interior, and enough of a description for a final claim. They also +received teleprint copies of the Storisende papers. The first story, +in an extra edition of the _Herald-Guardian_, was headlined, +MERLIN FOUND! That would have been the reporter who bolted +off prematurely when they first saw the personnel record machines. +Conn wondered if he still had a job. A later edition corrected this, +but was full of extravagant accounts of what had been discovered. +Merlin or no Merlin, Force Command Duplicate was the biggest +abandoned-property discovery since the Third Force left the +Trisystem. + +The camp they had set up on top of the mesa was used, that night, only +by Klem Zareff's guards. Everybody else was inside, eating cold +rations when hungry and, when they could keep awake no longer, bedding +down on piles of blankets or going up to the barracks rooms above. + +The next day they found the relay station which rebroadcast signals +from the buried aerial--or wouldn't one say, sub-terrial--on top of +the mesa. As Conn had expected, it was on top of a high butte three +and a half miles to the south; it had been so skillfully camouflaged +that none of the outlaw bands who roamed the Badlands had found it. +After that, Force Command Duplicate was in communication with the rest +of Poictesme. + +They moved into the staff headquarters at the top; Foxx Travis's +office, tidied up, became the headquarters for the company officials +and chief supervisors. The workmen quartered themselves in the +enlisted barracks, helping themselves liberally to anything they +found. The crowds of sightseers kept swarming in, giving Tom +Brangwyn's police plenty to do. Tom himself turned the marshal's +office in Litchfield over to his chief deputy. Klem Zareff insisted on +more men for his guard force. A dozen gunboats, eighty-foot craft +mounting one 90-mm gun, several smaller auto-cannon and one +missile-launcher, had been found; he took them over immediately, +naming them for capital ships of the old System States Navy. It took +some argument to dissuade him from repainting all of them black and +green. He kept them all in the air, with a swarm of smaller airboats +and combat-cars, circling the underground headquarters at a radius of +a hundred miles. These patrols reported a general exodus from the +region. At least a dozen outlaw bands, all with fast contragravity, +had been camped inside the zone. Some fled at once; the rest needed +only a few warning shots to send them away. Other bands, looking like +legitimate prospecting parties, began to filter into the Badlands. +Zareff came to Rodney Maxwell--instead of Kurt Fawzi, the titular head +of the company, which was significant--to find out what policy +regarding them would be. + +"Well, we have no right to keep them out, as long as they stay outside +our ten-mile radius," Conn's father said. "And as we're the only +thing that even looks like law around here, I'd say we have an +obligation to give them protection. Have your boats investigate them; +if they're legitimate, tell them they can call on us for help if they +need it." + +Conn protested, privately. + +"There's a lot of stuff around here, in small caches," he said. +"Equipment for guerrilla companies, in event of invasion. When work +slacks off here, we could pick that stuff up." + +"Conn, there's an old stock-market maxim: 'A bear can make money +sometimes, and a bull can make money sometimes, but in the long run, a +hog always loses.' Let the other people find some of this; it'll all +help the Plan. Fact is, I've been thinking of leaking some +information, if I can do it without Fawzi and that gang finding out. +Do you know a good supply depot or something like that, say over on +Acaire, or on the west coast? Big enough to be important, and to start +a second prospectors' rush away from us." + +"How about one of those hospitals?" + +"No; not a hospital. We might use them to talk Wade Lucas into joining +us. A lot of medical stores would be a good bait for him. I'm afraid +he's going to make trouble if we don't do something about him." + +"Well, how about engineering and construction equipment? I know where +there's a lot of that, down to the southwest." + +"That's farming country; that stuff'll be useful down there. I'll do +that." + +The next morning, Rodney Maxwell scorched the stratosphere to +Storisende in his recon-car. The day after he got back, there was a +big discovery of engineering equipment to the southwest and, as he had +anticipated, a second rush of prospectors. They had the vertical shaft +clear now, and the _Lester Dawes_ was shuttling back and forth between +Force Command Duplicate and Storisende. Other ships were coming in, +now, mostly privately owned freighting ships. They bought almost +anything, as fast as it came out. + +The stock market had been paralyzed for a couple of days after the +discovery of Force Command; nobody seemed to know what to sell and +what to hold. Now it was going perfectly insane. Twenty or thirty new +companies were being formed; unlike Litchfield Exploration & Salvage, +they were all offering their stock to the public. A week after the +opening of Force Command, the Stock Exchange reported the first +half-million-share day since the War. A week after that, there were +two million-share days in succession. + +Some of the L. E. & S. stockholders who had come out on the first day +began drifting back to Litchfield. Lester Dawes was the first to +defect; there was nothing he could do at Force Command, and a great +deal that needed his personal attention at the bank. Morgan Gatworth +and Lorenzo Menardes and one or two others followed. Kurt Fawzi, +however, refused to leave. Merlin was somewhere here at Force Command, +he was sure of it, and he wasn't leaving till it was found. Neither +were Franz Veltrin or Dolf Kellton or Judge Ledue. Tom Brangwyn +resigned as town marshal; Klem Zareff was too busy even to think of +Merlin; he had almost as many men under his command, and twice as much +contragravity, as he had had when the System States Alliance Army had +surrendered. + +Conn flew to Litchfield, and found that the public works project had +come to a stop at noon of the day when Force Command was entered, and +that nothing had been done on it since. The cold vitrifier was still +standing in the middle of the Mall, and topside Litchfield was +littered in a dozen places with forsaken equipment and half-completed +paving. There was no one in Kurt Fawzi's office in the Airlines +Building, and the employment office was jammed with migratory workers +vainly seeking jobs. + +He hunted up Morgan Gatworth, the lawyer. + +"Can't some of you get things started again?" he wanted to know. "This +place is worse than it was before they started cleaning up." + +"Yes, I know." Gatworth walked to an open window and looked down on +the littered Mall. "But everybody just dropped everything as soon as +you opened Force Command. Kurt Fawzi's not been back here since." + +"Well, you're here. Lester Dawes and Lorenzo Menardes are here. Why +don't you just take over. Kurt Fawzi couldn't care less what you do; +he's forgotten he is mayor of Litchfield. He's forgotten there is a +Litchfield." + +"Well, I don't like to just move into the mayor's office and take +over...." + +From somewhere below, a submachine gun hammered. There were yells, +pistol shots, and the submachine gun hammered again, a couple of short +bursts. + +"Some of the farm-tramps who can't get jobs, trying to steal something +to eat, I suppose," Conn commented. Gatworth was frowning +thoughtfully. He'd only need one more, very slight, push. "Why don't +you talk to Wade Lucas. He's got brains, and he's honest--nobody but +an honest man would have made himself as unpopular as Lucas has. If +you pretend to be disillusioned with this Merlin business it might +help convince him." + +"He was blaming you and your father for what's been going on here in +the last two weeks. Yes. He'd help get things straightened out." + +At home, he found his mother simply dazed. She was happy to see him, +and solicitous about his and his father's health. It seemed at times, +though, as if he were somebody she had never met before. Events had +gotten so far beyond her that she wasn't even trying to catch up. + +Flora, returning from school, stopped short when she saw him. + +"Well! I hope you like what you've done!" she greeted him. + +"For a start, yes." + +"For a start! You know what you've done?" + +"Yes. I don't know what you think I've done, though. Tell me." + +"You've turned everything into a madhouse; you've sent this whole +world Merlin-crazy. Look at the stock market...." + +"You look at it. All I can see is a pack of lunatics playing Russian +roulette with five chambers loaded out of six. Some of this so-called +stock that's being peddled around isn't worth five millisols a +share--Seekers for Merlin, Ltd., closed today at a hundred and +seventy. You notice, there isn't any L. E. & S. being traded. If you +don't believe me, talk to Lester Dawes; he'll tell you what we think +of this market." + +"Well, it's your fault!" + +"In part it's my fault that any of these quarter-wits have any money +to play the market with. They wouldn't have money enough to play a +five-centisol slot machine if we hadn't gotten a little business +started." + +There was just a little truth to that, too. A few woolen socks were +coming out from under mattresses, and a few tin cans were being +exhumed in cellars, since the new flood of Federation equipment and +supplies had gotten on the market. He'd seen a freshly lettered sign +on Len Yeniguchi's tailor shop: QUARTER PRICE IN FEDERATION +CURRENCY. + +That night, however, he had one of the nightmares he used to have as a +child--a dream of climbing up onto a huge machine and getting it +started, and then clinging, helpless and terrified, unable to stop it +as it went faster and faster toward destruction. + +Klem Zareff's patrols were encountering larger outlaw bands, the +result of gang mergers. They were fighting with prospecting parties, +and prospecting parties were fighting one another. Much of this was +making the newscasts. One battle, between two regularly chartered +prospecting companies, lasted three days, with an impressive casualty +list. + +Public demands were growing that the Planetary Government do something +about the situation; the Government was wondering what to do, or how. +There were indignant questions in Parliament. Finally, the Government +dragged a couple of armed ships off Mothball Row--a combat freighter +like the _Lester Dawes_, and a big assault transport--and began trying +to get them into commission. + +And, of course, the market boom was still on. The newscasts were full +of that, too. He had started worrying about _if_ a bust came; now he +was worrying about what would happen _when_ it did. Another good +reason for wanting to get to Koshchei and getting a hypership built; +when the bust came, he and his father would want one, very badly. + +In any case, it was time to begin getting an expedition ready for +Barathrum Spaceport. Quite a few of the new companies had large +contragravity craft, and the nascent Planetary Air Navy was +approaching a state of being. He wanted to get out there before +anybody else did. + +Maybe if they got the hypership built soon enough, it would start a +second, sound boom that would cushion the crash of the present +speculative market when it came, as come it must. + +He talked to Klem Zareff about borrowing a couple of the eighty-foot +gunboats. Zareff's attitude was automatically negative. + +"We mustn't weaken our defense-perimeter; we'd be inviting disaster. +Why, this whole country in here is simply swarming with outlaws. They +fired on one of our gunboats, the _Werewolf_, yesterday." + +He'd heard about that; somebody had launched a missile from the +ground, and the _Werewolf_ had detonated it with a counter-missile. It +had probably been some legitimate prospecting company who'd taken the +L. E. & S. craft for a pirate. + +"And there was a battle down in the Devil's Pigpen day before +yesterday." + +That had been outlaws; they had been annihilated by something calling +itself Seekers for Merlin, Ltd., whose stock was still skyrocketing on +the Exchange. He mentioned that. + +"These other prospecting companies are doing a lot of our +outlaw-fighting for us, and as long as the country's full of small +independent parties, the outlaws go after them and leave us alone." + +"Yes, and I have my doubts about a lot of these prospecting companies, +and a lot of the outlaws, too," Zareff said. "I think a lot of both +are Federation agents; they're waiting till we find Merlin, and then +they'll all jump us." + +"Well," Conn adjusted his argument to the old Rebel's obsession, "I'll +admit that, as a possibility. If so, we'll need heavier weapons than +we have. This spaceport on Barathrum might be just the place to get +them." + +"Yes. It might. Defense armament, and stored ships' weapons. Say, if +we grab that place and move all the heavy guns and missiles here, we +could stand off anybody." The thought of a fight with minions of the +Terran Federation seemed to have shaved ten years off his age in a +twinkling. "You take the _Lester Dawes_, and, let's say, three of +these gunboats. Let me see. _Goblin_, Fred Karski. And _Vampire_, +Charley Gatworth. And _Dragon_, Stefan Jorisson. They're all good men. +Home Guard; trained them myself." + +"Aren't you coming, Colonel?" + +"Oh, I'd like to, Conn, but I can't. I don't want to be away from +here; no telling what might happen. But you keep in constant +screen-contact; if you get into any trouble, I'll come with everything +I can put into the air." + + + + +IX + + +Barathrum was a grim land, naked black and gray. Spines and crags of +bare rock jutted up, lava-flows like black glaciers twisting among +them. It was split by faults and fissures, pimpled with ash-cones. +Except for the seabirds that nested among the cliffs and the few thin +patches of green where seeds windblown from the mainland had taken +root, it was as lifeless as when some ancient convulsion had thrust it +up from the sea, Barathrum was a dead Inferno, untenanted even by the +damned; by comparison, the Badlands seemed lushly fertile. + +The four craft crossed above the line of white breakers that marked +the division of sea and land; the gunboat _Goblin_ in the lead, her +sisters, _Vampire_ and _Dragon_ to right and left and a little behind, +and the _Lester Dawes_ a few miles in the rear. Fred Karski was at the +_Goblin's_ controls; Conn, beside him, was peering ahead into the +teleview screen and shifting his eyes from it to the map and back +again. + +Somebody behind him was saying that it would be a nice place to be +air-wrecked. Somebody else was telling him not to joke about it. From +the radio, his father was asking: "Can you see it, yet?" + +"Not yet. We're on the right map-and-compass direction; we should +before long." + +"We're picking up radiation," Fred Karski said. "Way above normal +count. I hope the place isn't hot." + +"We're getting that, too," Rodney Maxwell said. "Looks like power +radiation; something must be on there." + +After forty years, that didn't seem likely. He leaned over to look at +the omnigeiger, then whistled. If that was normal leakage from +inactive power units, there must be enough of them to power ten towns +the size of Litchfield. + +"Something's operating there," he said, and then realized what that +meant. Somebody had beaten them to the spaceport. That would be one of +the new companies formed after the opening of Force Command. He was +wishing, now, that he hadn't let himself be talked out of coming here +first. Older and wiser heads indeed! + +Fred Karski whistled shrilly into his radio phone. "Attention +everybody! General alert. Prepare for combat; prepare to take +immediate evasive action. We must assume that the spaceport is +occupied, and that the occupants are hostile. Captain Poole, will you +please make ready aboard your ship? Reduce both speed and altitude, +and ready your guns and missiles at once." + +"Well, now, wait a minute, young fellow," Poole began to argue. "You +don't know--" + +"No. I don't. And I want all of us alive after we find out, too," +Karski replied. + +Rodney Maxwell's voice, in the background, said something +indistinguishable. Poole said ungraciously, "Well, all right, if you +think so...." + +The _Lester Dawes_ began dropping to the rear and going down toward +the ground. Conn returned to the teleview screen in time to see the +truncated cone of the extinct volcano rise on the horizon, dwarfing +everything around it. Fred Karski was talking to Colonel Zareff, back +at Force Command, giving him the radiation count. + +"That's occupied," the old soldier replied. "Mass-energy converter +going. Now, Fred, don't start any shooting unless you have to, but +don't get yourself blown to MC waiting on them to fire the first +shot." + +The dark cone bulked higher and higher in the screen. It must be seven +miles around the crater, and a mile deep; when that thing blew out, +ten or fifteen thousand years ago, it must have been something to see, +preferably from a ship a thousand miles off-planet. It was so huge +that it was hard to realize that the jumbled foothills around it were +themselves respectably lofty mountains. + +When they were within five miles of it, something twinkled slightly +near the summit. An instant later, the missileman, in his turret +overhead, shouted: + +"Missile coming up; counter-missile off!" + +"Grab onto something, everybody!" Karski yelled, bracing himself in +his seat. + +Conn, on his feet, flung his arms around an upright stanchion and hung +on. Fred's hand gave a twisting jerk on the steering handle; the +_Goblin_ went corkscrewing upward. In the rearview screen, Conn saw a +pink fireball blossom far below. The sound and the shock-wave never +reached them; the _Goblin_ outran them. _Dragon_ and _Vampire_ were +spiraling away in opposite directions. The radio was loud with voices, +and a few of the words were almost printable. A gong began clanging +from the command post on top of the mesa on the mainland. + +"Be quiet, all of you!" Klem Zareff was bellowing. "And get back from +there. Back three or four miles; close enough so they won't dare use +thermonuclears. Take cover behind one of those ridges, where they +can't detect you. Then we can start figuring what the Gehenna to do +next." + +That made sense. And get it settled who's in command of this +Donnybrook, while we're at it, Conn thought. He looked into the rear +and sideview screens, and taking cover immediately made even more +sense. Two more fireballs blossomed, one dangerously close to the +_Dragon_. Guns were firing from the mountaintop, too, big ones, +and shells were bursting close to them. He saw a shell land on and +another beside one of the enemy gun positions--115-mm's from the +_Lester Dawes_, he supposed. He continued to cling to the +stanchion, and the _Goblin_ shot straight up, and he was expecting +to see the sky blacken and the stars come out when the gunboat leveled +and started circling down again. The mountainside, he saw, was sending +up a lightning-crackling tower of smoke and dust that swelled into a +mushroom top. + +Klem Zareff, on the radio, was demanding to know who'd launched that. + +"We did, sir; _Dragon_," Stefan Jorisson was replying. "We had to get +rid of it. We took a hit. Gun turret's smashed, Milt Hennant's dead, +and Abe Samuels probably will be before I'm done talking, and if we +get this crate down in one piece, it'll do for a miracle till a real +one happens." + +"Well, be careful how you shoot those things off," his father +implored, from the _Lester Dawes_. "Get one inside the crater and we +won't have any spaceport." + +The _Lester Dawes_ vanished behind a mountain range a few miles from +the volcano. The _Dragon_, still airborne but in obvious difficulties, +was limping after her, and the _Vampire_ was covering the withdrawal, +firing rapidly but with doubtful effect with her single 90-mm and +tossing out counter-missiles. There was another fireball between her +and the mountain. Then, when the _Dragon_ had followed the _Lester +Dawes_ to safety, she turned tail and bolted, the _Goblin_ following. +As they approached the mountains, something the shape of a recon-car +and about half the size passed them going in the opposite direction. +As they dropped into the chasm on the other side, another nuclear went +off at the volcano. + +When Conn and Fred left the _Goblin_ and boarded the ship, they found +Rodney Maxwell, Captain Poole, and a couple of others on the bridge. +Charley Gatworth, the skipper of the _Vampire_, Morgan Gatworth's son, +was with them, and, imaged in a screen, so was Klem Zareff. One of the +other screens, from a pickup on the _Vampire_, showed the _Dragon_ +lying on her side, her turret crushed and her gun, with the +muzzle-brake gone, bent upward. A couple of lorries from the _Lester +Dawes_ were alongside; as Conn watched, a blanket-wrapped body, and +then another, were lowered from the disabled gunboat. + +"Fred, how are you and Charley fixed for counter-missiles?" Zareff was +asking. "Get loaded up with them off the ship, as many as you can +carry. Charley, you go up on top of this ridge above, and take cover +where you can watch the mountain. Transmit what you see back to the +ship. Fred, you take a position about a quarter way around from where +you are now. Don't let them send anything over, but don't start +anything yourselves. I'm coming out with everything I can gather up +here; I'll be along myself in a couple of hours, and the rest will be +stringing in after me. In the meantime, Rodney, you're in command." + +Well, that settled that. There was one other point, though. + +"Colonel," Conn said, "I assume that this spaceport is occupied by one +of these new prospecting companies. We have no right to take it away +from them, have we?" + +"They fired on us without warning," Karski said. "They killed Milt, +and it's ten to one Abe won't live either. We owe them something for +that." + +"We do, and we'll pay off. Conn, you assume wrong. This gang's been at +the spaceport long enough to get the detection system working and put +the defense batteries on ready. They didn't do that since this +morning, and up to last evening they neglected to file claim. I'll +assume they're on the wrong side of the law. They're outlaws, Conn. +All the raids along the east coast; everybody's blamed them on the +Badlands gangs. I'll admit they're responsible for some of it, but +I'll bet this gang at the spaceport is doing most of it." + +That was reasonable. Barathrum was closer to the scene of the worst +outlaw depredations than the Badlands, not more than an hour at Mach +Two. And nobody ever thought of Barathrum as an outlaw hangout. People +rarely thought of Barathrum at all. He liked the idea. The only thing +against it was that he wanted so badly to believe it. + +They brought the body of Milt Hennant aboard, and Abe Samuels, swathed +in bandages and immobilized by narcotic injections. A few more of the +_Dragon_'s six-man crew had been injured. Jorrisson, the skipper, had +one trouser leg slit to the belt and his right thigh splinted and +bandaged; he took over the _Lester Dawes_' missile controls, which he +could manage sitting in one place. Fred Karski and Charley Gatworth +went aboard their craft and lifted out. + +For a long time, nothing happened. Conn got out the plans of the +volcano spaceport and the photomaps of the surrounding area. The +principal entrance, the front door of the spaceport, was the crater of +the extinct volcano itself. It was ringed, outside, with +launching-sites and gun positions, and according to the data he had, +some of the guns were as big as 250-mm. How many outlaws there were to +man them was a question a lot of people could get killed trying to +answer. The ship docks and shops were down on the level of the crater +floor, in caverns, both natural and excavated, that extended far back +into the mountain. There were two galleries, one above the other, +extending entirely around the inside of the crater near the top; +passages from them gave access to the outside gun and missile +positions. + +With a dozen ships the size of the _Lester Dawes_, about five thousand +men, and a CO who wasn't concerned with trivialities like casualties, +they could have taken the place in half an hour. With what they had, +trying to fight their way in at the top was out of the question. + +There was another way in. He had known about it from the beginning, +and he was trying desperately to think of a way not to utilize it. It +was a tunnel two miles long, running into some of the bottom workshops +and storerooms back of the ship berths from a big blowhole or small +crater at the foot of the mountain. According to the fifty-year-old +plans, it was big enough to take a gunboat in, and on paper it looked +like a royal highway straight to the heart of the enemy's stronghold. + +To Conn, it looked like a wonderful place to commit suicide. He'd only +had a short introductory course, in one semester, in military and +protective robotics, just enough to give him a foundation if he wanted +to go into that branch of the subject later. It was also enough to +give him an idea of the sort of booby-traps that tunnel could be +filled with. He knew what he'd have put into it if he'd been defending +that place. + +Colonel Zareff had sent one last message from Force Command when he +lifted off with a flight of recon-cars. After that, he maintained a +communication blackout. It was an hour and a half before he got close +enough to be detected from the outlaw stronghold. Immediately, the +volcano began spewing out missiles. Poole hastily took the _Lester +Dawes_ ten miles down the rift-valley in sixty seconds, while Stefan +Jorisson put out a nuclear-warhead missile and left it circling about +where the ship had been. From their respective positions, Fred Karski +and Charley Gatworth filled the airspace midway to the volcano with +counter-missiles, each loaded with four rockets. There were +explosions, fireballs in the air and rising cumulus clouds of +varicolored smoke and dust. Only about half the enemy missiles reached +the _Lester Dawes'_ former position. + +When their controllers, back at the volcano, couldn't see the ship in +their screens, the missiles bunched together. Immediately, Jorisson +sent his missile up to join them and detonated it. Including his own, +eight nuclear weapons went off together in a single blast that shook +the ground like an earthquake and churned the air like a hurricane. +Klem Zareff came on-screen at once. + +"Now what did you do?" he demanded. "Blew the whole place up, didn't +you?" + +Rodney Maxwell told him. Zareff laughed. "They might just think they +got the ship; all the pickups would be smashed before they could see +what really happened. You're about ten miles south of that? Be with +you in a few minutes." + +They got a screen on for his rearview pickup. Zareff had with him a +dozen recon-cars, some of them under robo-control; six gunboats +followed, and behind them, to the horizon, other craft were strung +out--airboats, troop carriers, and freight-scows. They could see enemy +missiles approaching in Zareff's front screen; counter-missiles got +most of them, and a couple of pilotless recon-cars were sacrificed. +The _Lester Dawes_ blasted more missiles as they crossed the top of +the mountain range. Then Zareff's car was circling in and entering at +one of the ship's open cargo-ports. Zareff and Anse Dawes got out. + +"Gunboats are only half an hour behind," Zareff said. "Get some +screens on to them, Anse; you know the combinations. Now let's see +what kind of a mess we're in here." + +It was almost a miracle, the way the tottering old man Conn had seen +on the dock at Litchfield when he had arrived from Terra had been +rejuvenated. + +The rest of the reinforcements arrived slowly, sending missiles and +counter-missiles out ahead of them. Zareff began worrying about the +supply; the enemy didn't seem to be running short. By 1300--Conn noted +the time incredulously; the battle seemed to have been going on +forever, instead of just four hours--the _Lester Dawes_ had moved +halfway around the volcano and was almost due west of it, and the +eight gunboats were spaced all around the perimeter. Then one stopped +transmitting; in the other screens, there was a rising fireball where +she had been. The radio was loud with verbal reports. + +"_Poltergeist_," Zareff said, naming half a dozen names. One or two of +them had been schoolmates of Conn's at the Academy; he knew how he'd +feel about it later, but now it simply didn't register. + +"They're launching missiles faster than we can shoot them down," he +said. + +"That's usually the beginning of the end," Zareff said. "I saw it +happen too often during the War. We've got to get inside that place. +It's a lot of harmless fun to send contragravity robots out to smash +each other, but it doesn't win battles. Battles are won by men, +standing with their feet on the ground, using personal weapons." + +"We'll have to win this one pretty soon," Rodney Maxwell said. "The +amount of nuclear energy we've been releasing will be detectable +anywhere on the planet by now. The Government has a ship like the +_Lester Dawes_ in commission; if this keeps on, she'll be coming out +for a look." + +"Then we'll have help," Captain Poole said. + +"We need Government help like we need the polka-dot fever," Rodney +Maxwell said. "If they get in it, they'll claim the spaceport +themselves, and we'll have fought a battle for nothing." + +Well, that was it, then. The spaceport was essential to the Maxwell +Plan. He'd gotten seven men killed--eight, if the recon-car that was +taking Abe Samuels to the hospital in Litchfield didn't make it in +time--and it was up to him to see that they hadn't died for nothing. +He spread the photo-map and the spaceport plans on the chart table. + +"Look at this," he said. + +Klem Zareff looked at it. He didn't like it any better than Conn had. +He studied the plan for a moment, chewing his cigar. + +"You know, it's possible they don't know that thing exists," he said, +without too much conviction. "You'll be betting the lives of at least +twenty men; fewer than that couldn't accomplish anything." + +"I'll be putting mine on the table along with them," Conn said. "I'll +lead them in." + +He was wishing he hadn't had to say that. He did, though. It was the +only thing he could say. + +"You better pick the men to go with me, Colonel," he continued. "You +know them better than I do. We'll need working equipment, too; I have +no idea what we may have to take out of the way, inside." + +"I won't call for volunteers," Zareff said. "I'll pick Home Guards; +they did their volunteering when they joined." + +"Let me pick one man, Colonel," Anse Dawes said. "I'll pick me." + + + + +X + + +They sent a snooper in first; it picked up faint radiation leakage +from inactive power units of overhead lights, and nothing else. The +tunnel stretched ahead of it, empty, and dark beyond its infrared +vision. After it had gone a mile without triggering anything, the jeep +followed, Anse Dawes piloting and Conn at the snooper controls +watching what it transmitted back. The two lorries followed, loaded +with men and equipment, and another jeep brought up the rear. They had +cut screen-and-radio communication with the outside; they weren't even +using inter-vehicle communication. + +At length, the snooper emerged into a big cavern, swinging slowly to +scan it. The walls and ceiling were rough and irregular; it was +natural instead of excavated. Only the floor had been leveled smooth. +There were a lot of things in it, machinery and vehicles, all battered +and in poor condition, dusty and cobwebbed: the spaceport junkheap. A +passage, still large enough for one of the gunboats, led deeper into +the mountain toward the crater. They sent the snooper in and, after a +while, followed. + +They came to other rectangular, excavated caverns. On the plans, they +were marked as storerooms. Cases and crates, indeterminate shrouded +objects; some had never been disturbed, but here and there they found +evidence of recent investigation. + +Beyond was another passage, almost as wide as the Mall in Litchfield; +even the _Lester Dawes_ could have negotiated it. According to the +plans, it ran straight out to the ship docks and the open crater +beyond. Anse turned the jeep into a side passage, and Conn recalled +the snooper and sent it ahead. On the plan, it led to another natural +cavern, half its width shown as level with the entrance. The other +half was a pit, marked as sixty feet deep; above this and just under +the ceiling, several passages branched out in different directions. + +The snooper reported visible light ahead; fluoroelectric light from +one of the upper passages, and firelight from the pit. The +air-analyzer reported woodsmoke and a faint odor of burning oil. He +sent the snooper ahead, tilting it to look down into the pit. + +A small fire was burning in the center; around it, in a circle, some +hundred and fifty people, including a few women and children, sat, +squatted or reclined. A low hum of voices came out of the soundbox. + +"Who the blazes are they?" Anse whispered. "I can't see any way they +could have gotten down there." + +They were in rags, and they weren't armed; there wasn't so much as a +knife or a pistol among them. Conn motioned the lorries and the other +jeep forward. + +"Prisoners," he said. "I think they were hauled down here on a scow, +shoved off, and left when the fighting started. Cover me," he told the +men in the lorries. "I'm going down and talk to them." + +Somebody below must have heard something. As Anse took the jeep over +and started floating it down, the circle around the fire began moving, +the women and children being pushed to the rear and the men gathering +up clubs and other chance weapons. By the time the jeep grounded, the +men in the pit were standing defensively in front of the women and +children. + +They were all dirty and ragged; the men were unshaven. There was a +tall man with a grizzled beard, in greasy coveralls; another man with +a black beard and an old Space Navy uniform, his head bandaged with a +dirty and blood-caked rag; another in the same uniform, wearing a cap +on which the Terran Federation insignia had been replaced by the +emblem of Transcontinent & Overseas Shiplines and the words CHIEF. +And beside the tall man with the gray beard, was a girl +in baggy trousers and a torn smock. Like the others, she was dirty, +but in spite of the rags and filth, Conn saw that she was beautiful. +Black hair, dark eyes, an impudently tilted nose. + +They all looked at him in hostility that gradually changed to +perplexity and then hope. + +"Who are you?" the tall man with the gray beard asked. "You're none of +this gang here." + +"Litchfield Exploration & Salvage; I'm Conn Maxwell." + +That meant nothing; none of them had been near a news-screen lately. + +"What's going on topside?" the man with the bandaged head and the four +stripes on his sleeve asked. "There was firing, artillery and +nuclears, and they herded us down here. Have you cleaned the bloody +murderers out?" + +"We're working on it," Conn said. "I take it they aren't friends of +yours?" + +Foolish Question of the Year; they all made that evident. + +"They took my ship; they murdered my first officer and half my crew +and passengers...." + +"They burned our home and killed our servants," the girl said. "They +kidnapped my father and me...." + +"They've been keeping us here as slaves." + +"It's the Blackie Perales gang," the tall man with the gray beard +said. "They've been making us work for them, converting a blasted tub +of a contragravity ship into a spacecraft. I beg your pardon, Captain +Nichols; she was a fine ship--for her intended purpose." + +"You're Captain Nichols?" Anse Dawes exclaimed. "Of the _Harriet +Barne_?" + +"That's right. The _Harriet Barne's_ here; they've been making us work +on her, to convert her to an interplanetary craft, of all idiotic +things." + +"My name's Yves Jacquemont," the man with the gray beard said. "I'm a +retired hyperspace maintenance engineer; I had a little business at +Waterville, buying, selling and rebuilding agricultural machinery. +This gang found out about me; they raided and burned our village and +carried me and my daughter, Sylvie, away. We've been working for them +for the last four months, tearing Captain Nichols' ship down and +armoring her with collapsium." + +"How many pirates are there here?" + +That started an argument. Nobody was quite sure; two hundred and fifty +seemed to be the highest estimate, which Conn decided to play safe by +accepting. + +"You get us out of here," Yves Jacquemont was saying. "All we want is +a chance at them." + +"How about arms? You can't do much with clubs and fists." + +"Don't worry about that; we know where to get arms. The treasure +house, where they store their loot. There's plenty of arms and +ammunition, and anything else you can think of. They've used us to +help stow the stuff; we know where it is." + +"Anse, you remember those scows we saw, in the big room before we came +to the broad passage? Take four men in the jeep; have them lift two of +them and bring them here. Then, you get out to the end of the tunnel +and call the _Lester Dawes_. Tell them what's happened, tell them they +can get gunboats all the way in, and wait to guide them when they +arrive." + +When Anse turned and climbed into the jeep, he asked Yves Jacquemont: +"Why does this Perales want an interplanetary ship?" + +"He's crazy!" Jacquemont swore. "Paranoid; megalomaniac. He talks of +organizing all the pirates and outlaws on the planet into one band and +making himself king. He's heard that there are Space Navy superweapons +on Koshchei--I suppose there are, at that--and he wants to get a lot +of planetbusters and hellburners and annihilators." He lowered his +voice. "Captain Nichols and I were going to fix up something that'd +blow the _Harriet Barne_ up as soon as he got her out of atmosphere." + +He talked for a while to Jacquemont and his daughter Sylvie, and to +Nichols and the chief engineer, whose name was Vibart. There was +evidently nothing else at the spaceport of which a spaceship could be +built, but there were foundries and rolling-mills and a +collapsed-matter producer. The _Harriet Barne_ was gutted, half torn +down, and half armored with new collapsium-plated sheet steel. It +might be possible to continue the work on her and take her to space. + +Then the two scows floated over the top of the pit and began letting +down. They got the prisoners into them, the combat-effective men in +one and the women and children in the other. At the top, he took over +the remaining jeep, getting Jacquemont, his daughter, and the two +contragravityship officers in with him. + +"Up to the top," Jacquemont said. "Take the middle passage, and turn +right at the next intersection." + +As they approached the section where the pirates stored their loot, +the sound of guns and explosions grew louder, and they began picking +up radio and screen signals, all of which were scrambled and +incomprehensible. The pirates, in different positions, talking among +themselves. With all that, it ought to be safe to use their own +communication equipment; nobody would notice it. + +The treasure room looked like a giant pack rat's nest. Cases and +crates of merchandise, bales, boxes, barrels. Machinery. Household and +industrial robots. The prisoners piled out of the two scows and began +rummaging. Somebody found a case of cigarettes and smashed it open; in +a moment, cartons were being tossed around and opened, and everybody +was smoking. The pirates evidently hadn't issued any tobacco rations +to their prisoners. + +And they found arms and ammunition, began ripping open cases, handing +out rifles, pistols, submachine guns. The prisoners grabbed them even +more hungrily than the cigarettes. Sylvie Jacquemont took charge of +the ammunition; she had three men opening boxes for her, while she +passed out boxes of cartridges and made sure that everybody had +ammunition to fit their weapons. A ragged man who might have been a +farm-tramp or a rich planter before his capture had gotten a bale of +cloth open and was tossing rags around while the chief engineer +inspected weapons and showed people how to clean out the cosmoline and +fill their spare magazines. + +Conn collected a few of his own party. + +"Let's look these robots over," he said. "Find about half a dozen we +can load with blasting explosive and send ahead of us on +contragravity." + +They found several--an electric-light servicer, a couple of +wall-and-window washers, a serving-robot that looked as if it had come +from a restaurant, and an all-purpose robo-janitor. In the passage +outside, they began loading the lorries with bricks of ionite and +packages of cataclysmite, packing all the scrap-iron and other junk +around the explosives that they could. As soon as they had weapons, +the prisoners came swarming out, making more noise than was necessary +and a good deal more than was safe. Sylvie Jacquemont, with a +submachine gun slung from one shoulder and a canvas bag of spare +magazines from the other, came over to see what he was doing. + +"Well, look what you're doing to him!" she mock-reproached. "That's a +dirty trick to play on a little robot!" + +He grinned at her. "You and my mother would get along. She always +treats robots like people." + +"Well, they are, sort of. They aren't alive--at least, I don't think +they are--but they do what you tell them, and they learn tricks, and +they have personalities." + +That was true. He didn't think robots were alive, either, though +biophysics professors tended to become glibly evasive when pinned down +to defining life. Robots could learn, if you used the term loosely +enough. And any robot with more than five hundred hours service picked +up a definite and often exasperating personality. + +"I've been working with them, and tearing them down and fixing them, +ever since I was in pigtails," she added. + +The half-dozen natural leaders among the prisoners--Jacquemont and his +daughter, the two _Harriet Barne_ officers, and a couple of +others--bent over the photoprinted plans Conn had, located their +position, and told him as much as they could about what lay ahead. +Sylvie Jacquemont could handle robots; she would ride in the front +seat of the jeep while he piloted. Vibart, the chief engineer, and +Yves Jacquemont would ride behind. Nichols would ride in the scow with +the fighting men. One lorry of his own party would follow the jeep; +the other would bring up the rear. + +He snapped on the screen and punched the ship combination. Stefan +Jorisson appeared in it. + +"Hi, Conn! You all right?" He raised his voice. "Conn's on-screen!" + +His father appeared at Jorisson's shoulder and, a moment later, Klem +Zareff. + +"Well, we're in, all right," he said. "We just picked up an army, +too." He swung the jeep to get the crowd in the pickup, explaining who +they were. "Did you hear from Anse?" + +"Yes, he just screened in," Rodney Maxwell said. "He said a gunboat +can get in." + +"That's right; clear into the crater." + +"Well, we're going to put three of them inside," Zareff told him. +"_Werewolf_, _Zombi_, and _Dero_. And a troop carrier with fifty men; +flamethrowers, portable machine guns, bomb-launchers; regular +special-weapons section. What can you do where you are?" + +"Here? Nothing. We're going to work around to the other side of the +crater, and then find a vertical shaft and go up topside and make as +much disturbance as we can." + +"That's it!" Zareff approved. "Pull them off balance; as soon as we +get in, we'll go straight to the top. Look for us in about an hour; +it's going to take time getting to the tunnel-mouth without being +spotted from above." + +He lifted the jeep and started off; the lorry, and the scows and the +other lorry, followed; the snooper and the bomb-robots went ahead like +a pack of hunting dogs. They went through great chambers, dark and +silent and bulking with dusty machines. Jacquemont explained that the +prisoners had never gotten into this section; the _Harriet Barne_ was +a mile or so to their right. Conn turned left, when the noise of +firing from outside became plainer. A foundry. A machine-shop which +seemed to have been abandoned in the middle of some rush job that +hadn't really been necessary. They came to a place even the snooper +couldn't enter, choked to the ceiling with dead vegetation, hydroponic +seed-plants that had been left untended to grow wild and die. They +emerged into outside light, in vast caves a mile high and open onto +the crater, and looked across the floor that had been leveled and +vitrified to the other side, three and a half miles away. + +He didn't know whether to be more awed by the original eruption that +had formed the crater or by the engineering feat of carving these +docks and ship-berths, big enough for the hugest hyperspaceship, into +it. + +At first, he had been afraid of getting into position too soon before +the task force from outside could profit by the diversion. Then he +began to worry about the time it was taking to get halfway around the +crater. He could hear artillery thundering continuously above. Except +at the very beginning of the battle, there had been little gunfire. He +wondered if both sides were running out of lift-and-drive missiles, or +if the fighting had gotten too close for anybody to risk using nuclear +weapons. + +He was also worrying about the women and children among the released +prisoners. + +"Why did the pirates bother with them?" he asked Sylvie. + +"They used the women and some of the old men to do housekeeping +chores for them," she said. "Mostly, though, they were hostages; if +the men didn't work, Perales threatened to punish the women and +children. I wasn't doing any housework; I'm too good a mechanic. I was +helping on the ship." + +"Well, what'll I do with them when the fighting starts? I can't take +them into battle." + +"You'll have to; it'll be the safest place for them. You can't leave +them anywhere and risk having them recaptured." + +"That means we'll have to detach some men to cover them, and that'll +cut our striking force down." He whistled at the sound-pickup of his +screen and told his father about it. "What do I do with these people, +anyhow?" + +"You're the officer in command, Conn," his father told him. "Your +decision. How soon can you attack? We're almost through to the +crater." + +"There's a vertical shaft right above us, and a lot of noise at the +top. We'll send up a couple of bomb-robots to clear things at the +shaft-head and follow with everything we have." + +"Noncombatants and all?" + +He nodded. "Only thing we can do." An old quotation occurred to him. +"'If you want to make an omelet, you have to break eggs.'" + +He wondered who'd said that in the first place. One of the old +Pre-Atomic conquerors; maybe Hitler. No, Hitler would have said, "If +you want to make sauerkraut, you have to chop cabbage." Maybe it was +Caesar. + +"We'd better send Gumshoe Gus up, first," Sylvie suggested. + +"You handle him. Take a quick look around, and then pull him back. +We'll need him later." It was the first time he'd ever caught himself +calling a robot "him," instead of "it." He thought for a second, and +added: "Give your father and Mr. Vibart the controls for the two +window-washers; you handle the snooper." + +He gave more instructions: Yves Jacquemont to turn his bomb-robot +right, Vibart to turn his left; the two lorries to follow the jeep up +the shaft, the scows to follow. Then he leaned back and looked at the +screens that had been rigged under the top of the jeep. A circle of +light appeared in one, growing larger and brighter as the snooper +approached the top of the shaft; two more came on as the bomb-robots +followed. + +"All right; follow me," he said into the inter-vehicle radio, and +started the jeep slowly up the shaft. + +The snooper popped out of the shaft, onto a gallery that had been cut +into the solid rock, fifty feet high and a hundred and fifty across, +with a low parapet on the outside and the mile-deep crater beyond. +There were a few grounded aircars and lorries in sight, and a medium +airboat rested a hundred or so feet on the right of the shaft-opening. +Fifteen or twenty men were clustered around it, with a lifter loaded +with ammunition. They looked like any crowd of farm-tramps. Suddenly, +one of them saw the snooper, gave a yell, and fired at it with a +rifle. Sylvie pulled it back into the shaft; her father and the chief +engineer sent the two bomb-robots up onto the gallery. The right-hand +robot sped at the airboat; the last thing Conn saw in its screen was a +face, bearded and villainous and contorted with fright, looking out +the pilot's window of the airboat. Then it went dead, and there was a +roar from above. On the other side, several men were firing straight +at the pickup of the other robot; it went dead, too, and there was a +second explosion. + +In the communication screen, somebody was yelling, "Give them another +one for Milt Hennant!" and his father was urging him to get in fast, +before they recovered. + +In peace or war, screen communication was a wonderful thing. The only +trouble was that it let in too many kibitzers. + +The gallery, when the jeep emerged onto it, was empty except for +casualties, a few still alive. The side of the airboat was caved in; +the lifter-load of ammunition had gone up with the bomb. He moved the +jeep to the right of the shaft and waited for the vehicles behind him, +suffering a brief indecision. + + _Never divide your force in the presence of the enemy._ + +There had been generals who had done that and gotten away with it, but +they'd had names like Foxx Travis and Robert E. Lee and +Napoleon--Napoleon; that was who'd made that crack about omelets! +They'd known what they were doing. He was playing this battle by ear. + +There was a lot of shouting ahead to the right. That meant live +pirates, a deplorable situation which ought to be corrected at once. +The communication screen was noisy, now; his father had gotten to the +top gallery with the three gun cutters, and was meeting resistance. He +formed his column, his jeep and one of the lorries in front, the scows +next, and the second lorry behind, and started around the gallery +counterclockwise, the snoopers and the three remaining bomb-robots +ahead. They began running into resistance almost at once. + +Bullets spatted on the armor glass in front of him, spalling it and +blotching it with metal until he found that he could steer better by +the show-back of his view-pickup. He used that until the pickup was +shot out. Then his father began wanting to know, from the +communication screen, what was going on and where he was. A bomb or +something went off directly under the jeep, bouncing it almost to the +ceiling; he found that it was impossible to lift it again after it +settled to the floor of the gallery, and they all piled out to fight +on foot. Sommers and his gang from the number one lorry were also +afoot; their vehicle had been disabled. He saw them lifting wounded +into one of the scows. + +They blew up the light-service robot to clear a nest of pirates who +had taken cover ahead of them. They sent the robo-janitor up a side +passage and exploded it in a missile-launching position on the outside +of the mountain; that produced a tremendous explosion. They began +running out of cartridges, and had to stop and glean more from enemy +casualties. They expended their last bomb-robot, the restaurant +server, to break up another pirate resistance point. + +At length he found himself, with Sylvie and her father and one of the +Home Guardsmen from Sommers' lorry, lying behind an aircar somebody +had knocked out with a bazooka, with two dead pirates for company and +a dozen distressingly live ones ahead behind an improvised barricade. +Behind, there was frantic firing; the rear-guard seemed to have run +into trouble, probably from some gang that had come down from the +upper level. He wondered what his father was doing with the gunboats; +since abandoning the jeep, he had lost his only means of contact. + +Suddenly, the men in front jumped up from their barricade and came +running toward him. Been reinforced, now they're counterattacking. His +rifle was empty; he drew his pistol and shot one of them, and then he +saw that they were throwing up their hands and yelling for quarter. +This was something new. + +He looked around quickly, to make sure none of the liberated prisoners +except Jacquemont and his daughter were around, and then called to a +couple of his own men to come up and help him. While they were +relieving the pirates of their pistol belts and cartridge bandoliers, +more came up, their hands over their heads, herded by a combat car +from which Tom Brangwyn covered them with a pair of 12-mm machine +guns. Tom hadn't put in an appearance before he had taken his commando +force into the tunnel; he hadn't even known the chief of Company +Police was on Barathrum. + +"Well, nice seeing you," he greeted. "How did you get in?" + +"Over the top," Brangwyn told him. "Everything's caved in on the other +side. We have a quarter of the top gallery, and half of this one. Your +father's cleaning up above. Klem's got some men working along the +outside." + +Sylvie was tugging at his arm. "Hey, look! Look at that!" she was +clamoring. "Who's she belong to?" + +He looked; the _Lester Dawes_ was coming over the edge of the crater. + +"She's ours," he said. "It's all over but the mopping up. And counting +the egg breakage." + + + + +XI + + +The shooting died down to occasional rattles of small arms, usually +followed by yells for quarter. An explosion thundered from across the +crater. The _Lester Dawes_ fired her big guns a few times. A machine +gun stuttered. A pistol banged, far away. It took two hours before all +the pirates had been hunted out of hiding and captured, or killed if +found by their former captives, who were accepting no surrender +whatever. + +Blackie Perales had been one of the latter; he had been found, his +clothes in rags and covered with dirt and grease, hiding under a +machine in one of the shops back of the dock in which the _Harriet +Barne_ was being rebuilt. He had tried to claim that he was one of the +pirates' prisoners who had eluded the roundup at the beginning of the +battle and had been hiding there since. As soon as the real prisoners +saw and recognized him, they had fallen upon him and clubbed, kicked +and stamped him out of any resemblance to humanity. At that, what he +got was probably only a fraction of what he deserved. + +The egg breakage had been heavy, and not at all confined to the bad +eggs. A third gunboat, the _Banshee_, had been destroyed with all +hands during the final attack from outside; in addition, a dozen men +had been killed during the fighting in the galleries. Everybody was +shocked, except Klem Zareff, who had been in battles before. He was +surprised that the casualties had been so light. + +At first glance, the spaceport looked like a handsome prize of +victory. The docks and workshops were all in good condition; at worst, +they only needed cleaning up. There was a collapsium plant, with its +own mass-energy converter. There were foundries and machine-shops and +forging-shops and a rolling-mill, almost completely robotic. At first, +Conn thought that it might be possible to build a hyperdrive ship +here, without having to go to Koshchei at all. + +Closer examination disabused him of this hope. There was nothing of +which the framework of a ship could be built, and no way of producing +heavy structural steel. The rolling-mill was good enough to turn out +eighth-inch sheet material which when plated with a few micromicrons +of collapsium would be as good as a hundred feet of lead against +space-radiations, but that was the ship's skin. A ship needed a +skeleton, too. The only thing to do was go on with the _Harriet +Barne_. + +It was sunset before he finished his tour of inspection and let his +jeep down in a vehicle hall off the lower gallery outside what had +originally been the spaceport officers' club. It was crowded, and a +victory celebration seemed to be getting under way. He saw his father +with Yves Jacquemont, Sylvie, Tom Brangwyn, and Captain Nichols. +Nichols had gotten clean clothes from the pirates' store of loot, and +had bathed and shaved. So had Jacquemont, though he had contented +himself with trimming his beard. It took him a second or so to +recognize the young lady in feminine garb as his erstwhile battle +comrade, Sylvie. + +"Well, our pay goes on from the day we were captured," Nichols was +saying. "My instructions are to resume command of the ship. Tomorrow, +they're sending a party out to go over her." + +Conn stopped short. "What's this about the ship?" + +"Captain Nichols was in screen contact with his company's office in +Storisende," Rodney Maxwell said. "They're continuing him in command +of her." + +"But ... but we took that ship! We lost three gunboats and about +twenty-five men...." + +"She still belongs to Transcontinent & Overseas," his father said. +"That's been the law on stolen property as long as there's been any +law." + +Of course; he should have known that. Did know it; just didn't think. + +"We broke an awful lot of eggs for no omelet; fought a battle for +nothing." + +"Well, of course, I'm prejudiced," Sylvie said, "but I don't think +getting us out of the hands of that bloodthirsty maniac and his +cutthroats was nothing." + +"Wiping out the Perales gang wasn't nothing, Conn," Tom Brangwyn said. +"You got no idea at all how bad things were, the last couple of +years." + +"I know. I'm sorry." He was ashamed of himself. "But I needed a ship, +and now we have no ship at all." + +"A ship means something to you?" Yves Jacquemont asked. + +"Yes." He told him why. "If we could get to Koshchei, we could build a +hypership of our own, and get our brandy and things to markets where +we could get a decent price for them." + +"I know. I was in and out of Storisende on these owner-captain tramps +for a couple of years before I decided to retire and settle here," +Jacquemont said. "The profit on a cargo of Poictesme brandy on Terra +or Baldur is over a thousand percent." + +"Well, don't give up too soon," Nichols advised. "You can't keep the +_Harriet Barne_, of course, but you're entitled to prize-money on her, +and that ought to buy you something you could build a spaceship out +of." + +"That's right," Jacquemont said. "Everything else besides the frame +can be made here. Look, these pirates burned me out; except for the +money I have in the bank, I lost everything, home, business and all. +As soon as I can find a place for Sylvie to stay, I'll come back and +go to work for your company building a spaceship. And a lot of the men +who were working here are farm-tramps and drifters, one job's as good +as another as long as they get paid for it. And I know a few good men +in Storisende--engineers--who'd be glad for a job, too." + +"You think it would be all right with Mother and Flora if Sylvie +stayed with us?" Conn asked. + +"Of course it would; they'd be glad to have her." Rodney Maxwell +turned to Yves Jacquemont. "Let's consider that fixed up. Now, +suppose you and I go into Storisende, and...." + +The Transcontinent & Overseas people arrived at Barathrum Spaceport +the next morning; a rear-rank vice-president, a front-rank +legal-eagle, and three engineers. They were horrified at what they +saw. The _Harriet Barne_ had been gutted. Bulkheads and decks had +been ripped out and relocated incomprehensibly; the bridge and the +control room under it were gone; she had been stripped to her framework, +and the whole underside was sheathed in shimmering collapsium. + +"Great Ghu!" the vice-president almost howled. "That isn't _our_ +ship!" + +"That's the _Harriet Barne_," her captain said. "She looks a little +ragged now, but--" + +"You helped these pirates do this to her?" + +"If I hadn't, they'd have cut my throat and gotten somebody else to +help them. My throat's more valuable to me than the ship is to you; I +can't get anybody to build me a new one." + +"Well, understand," one of the engineers said, "they were converting +her into an interplanetary ship. It wouldn't cost much to finish the +job." + +"We need an interplanetary ship like we need a hole in the head!" The +vice-president turned to Rodney Maxwell. "Just how much prize-money do +you think you're entitled to for this wreck?" + +"I wouldn't know; that's up to Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong. Up to the +court, if we can settle it any other way." + +"You mean you'd litigate about this?" the lawyer demanded, and began +to laugh. + +"If we have to. Look, if you people don't want her, sign her over to +Litchfield Exploration & Salvage. But if you do want her, you'll have +to pay for her." + +"We'll give you twenty thousand sols," the lawyer said. "We don't want +to be tightfisted. After all, you fought a gang of pirates and lost +some men and a couple of boats; we have some moral obligation to you. +But you'll have to realize that this ship, in her present state, is +practically valueless." + +"The collapsium on her is worth twice that, and the engines are worth +even more," Jacquemont said. "I worked on them." + +The discussion ended there. By midafternoon, Luther Chen-Wong, the +junior partner of the law firm, arrived from Storisende with a couple +of engineers of his own. Reporters began arriving; both sides were +anxious to keep them away from the ship. Conn took care of them, +assisted by Sylvie, who had rummaged an even more attractive costume +out of what she called the loot-cellar. The reporters all used up a +lot of film footage on her. And the Fawzis' Office Gang arrived from +Force Command, bitterly critical of the value of the spaceport against +its cost in lives and equipment. Brangwyn and Zareff returned to Force +Command with them. A Planetary Air Patrol ship arrived and removed the +captured pirates. The liberated prisoners were airlifted to +Litchfield. + +The third day after the battle, Conn and his father and Sylvie and her +father flew to Litchfield. To Conn's surprise, Flora greeted him +cordially, and Wade Lucas, rather stiffly, congratulated him. Maybe it +was as Tom Brangwyn had said; he hadn't been on Poictesme in the last +four or five years and didn't know how bad things had gotten. His +mother seemed to think he had won the Battle of Barathrum +single-handed. + +He was even more surprised and gratified that Flora made friends with +Sylvie immediately. His mother, however, regarded the engineer's +daughter with badly concealed hostility, and seemed to doubt that +Sylvie was the kind of girl she wanted her son getting involved with. +Outwardly, of course, she was quite gracious. + +Rodney Maxwell and Yves Jacquemont flew to Storisende the next +morning, both more optimistic about finding a ship than Conn thought +the circumstances warranted. Conn stayed at home for the next few +days, luxuriating in idleness. He and Sylvie tore down his mother's +household robots and built sound-sensors into them, keying them to +respond to their names and to a few simple commands, and including +recorded-voice responses in a thick Sheshan accent. All the smart +people on Terra, he explained, had Sheshan humanoid servants. + +His mother was delighted. Robots that would answer when she spoke to +them were a lot more companionable. She didn't seem to think, however, +that Sylvie's mechanical skills were ladylike accomplishments. Nice +girls, Litchfield model, weren't quite so handy with a spot-welder. +That was what Conn liked about Sylvie; she was like the girls he'd +known at the University. + +They were strolling after dinner, down the Mall. The air was sharp and +warned that autumn had definitely arrived; the many brilliant stars, +almost as bright as the moon of Terra, were coming out in the dusk. + +"Conn, this thing about Merlin," she began. "Do you really believe in +it? Ever since Dad and I came to Poictesme, I've been hearing about +it, but it's just a story, isn't it?" + +He was tempted to tell her the truth, and sternly put the temptation +behind him. + +"Of course there's a Merlin, Sylvie, and it's going to do wonderful +things when we find it." + +He looked down the starlit Mall ahead of him. Somebody, maybe Lester +Dawes and Morgan Gatworth and Lorenzo Menardes, had gotten things +finished and cleaned up. The pavement was smooth and unbroken; the +litter had vanished. + +"It's done wonderful things already, just because people started +looking for it," he said. "Some of these days, they're going to +realize that they had Merlin all along and didn't know it." + +There was a faint humming from somewhere ahead, and he was wondering +what it was. Then they came to the long escalators, and he saw that +they were running. + +"Why, look! They got them fixed! They're running!" + +Sylvie grinned at him and squeezed his arm. + +"I get you, chum," she said. "Of course there's a Merlin." + +Maybe he didn't have to tell her the truth. + +When they returned to the house, his mother greeted him: + +"Conn, your father's been trying to get you ever since you went out. +Call him, right away; Ritz-Gartner Hotel, in Storisende. It's +something about a ship." + +It look a little time to get his father on-screen. He was excited and +happy. + +"Hi, Conn; we have one," he said. + +"What kind of a ship?" + +"You know her. The _Harriet Barne_." + +That he hadn't expected. Something off Mothball Row that would have to +be flown to Barathrum and torn down and completely rebuilt, but not +the one that was there already, partly finished. + +"How the dickens did you wangle that?" + +"Oh, it was Yves' idea, to start with. He knew about her; the T. & +O.'s been losing money on her for years. He said if they had to pay +prize-money on her and then either restore her to original condition +or finish the job and build a spaceship they didn't want, it would +almost bankrupt the company. They got up as high as fifty thousand +sols for prize-money and we just laughed at them. So we made a +proposition of our own. + +"We proposed organizing a new company, subsidiary to both L. E. & S. +and T. & O., to engage in interplanetary shipping; both companies to +assign their equity in the _Harriet Barne_ to the new company, the +work of completing her to be done at our spaceport and the labor cost +to be shared. This would give us our spaceship, and get T. & O. off +the hook all around. Everybody was for it except the president of T. & +O. Know anything about him?" + +Conn shook his head. His father continued: + +"Name's Jethro Sastraman. He could play Scrooge in _Christmas Carol_ +without any makeup at all. He hasn't had a new idea since he got out +of college, and that was while the War was still going on. +'Preposterous; utterly visionary and impractical,'" his father +mimicked. "Fortunately, a majority of the big stockholders didn't +agree; they finally bullied him into agreeing. We're calling the new +company Alpha-Interplanetary, we have an application for charter in, +and that'll go through almost automatically." + +"Who's going to be the president of this new company?" + +"You know him. Character named Rodney Maxwell. Yves is going to be +vice-president in charge of operations; he's flying to Barathrum +tomorrow or the next day with a gang of technicians we're recruiting. +T. & O. are giving us Clyde Nichols and Mack Vibart, and a lot of men +from their shipyard. I'm staying here in Storisende; we're opening an +office here. By this time next week, we're all going to wish we'd been +born quintuplets." + +"And Conn Maxwell, I suppose, will be an influential +non-office-holding stockholder?" + +"That's right. Just like in L. E. & S." + + + + +XII + + +He found Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes and a score of workmen making a +survey and inventory of the spaceport. Captain Nichols and four of the +original crew of the _Harriet Barne_, who had shared his captivity +among the pirates, had stayed to take care of the ship. And Fred +Karski, with one gun-cutter and a couple of light airboats, was +keeping up a routine guard. All of them had heard about the formation +of Alpha-Interplanetary when Conn arrived. + +The next day, Yves Jacquemont arrived, accompanied by Mack Vibart, a +gang from the T. & O. shipyard, and a dozen engineers and construction +men whom he had recruited around Storisende. More workers arrived in +the next few days, including a number who had already worked on the +ship as slaves of the Perales gang. + +It didn't take Conn long to appreciate the problems involved in the +conversion. Built to operate only inside planetary atmosphere and +gravitation, the _Harriet Barne_ was long and narrow, like an old +ocean ship; more than anything else, she had originally resembled a +huge submarine. Spaceships, either interplanetary or interstellar, +were always spherical with a pseudogravity system at the center. This, +of course, the _Harriet Barne_ lacked. + +"Well, are we going to make the whole trip in free fall?" he wanted to +know. + +"No, we'll use our acceleration for pseudograv halfway, and +deceleration the other half," Jacquemont told him. "We'll be in free +fall about ten or fifteen hours. What we're going to have to do will +be to lift off from Poictesme in the horizontal position the ship was +designed for, and then make a ninety-degree turn after we're +off-planet, with our lift and our drive working together, just like +one of the old rocket ships before the Abbott Drive was developed." + +That meant, of course, that the after bulkheads would become decks, +and explained a lot of the oddities he had noticed about the +conversion job. It meant that everything would have to be mounted on +gimbals, everything stowed so as to be secure in either position, and +nothing placed where it would be out of reach in either. + +Jacquemont and Nichols took charge of the work on the ship herself. +Chief Engineer Vibart, with a gang of half-taught, self-taught and +untaught helpers, went back to working the engines over, tearing out +all the safety devices that were intended to keep the ship inside +planetary atmosphere, and arranging the lift engines so that they +could be swung into line with the drive engines. There was a lot of +cybernetic and robotic equipment, and astrogational equipment, that +had to be made from scratch. Conn picked a couple of helpers and went +to work on that. + +From time to time, he was able to snatch a few minutes to read +teleprint papers or listen to audiovisual newscasts from Storisende. +He was always disappointed. There was much excitement about the new +interplanetary company, but the emphasis was all wrong. People weren't +interested in getting hyperships built, or opening the mines and +factories on Koshchei, or talking about all the things now in short +supply that could be produced there. They were talking about Merlin, +and they were all positive, now, that something found at Force Command +Duplicate had convinced Litchfield Exploration & Salvage that the +giant computer was somewhere off-planet. + +Rodney Maxwell flew in from Storisende; he was accompanied by Wade +Lucas, who shook hands cordially with Conn. + +"Can you spare us Jerry Rivas for a while?" Rodney Maxwell asked. + +"Well, ask Yves Jacquemont; he's vice-president in charge of +operations. As an influential non-office-holding stockholder, I'd +think so. He's only running around helping out here and there." + +"We want him to take charge of opening those hospitals you were +telling us about. Wade and I are forming a new company, Mainland +Medical Materials, Ltd. Going to act as broker for L. E. & S. in +getting rid of medical stores. Nobody in the company knows where to +sell that stuff or what we ought to get for it." + +Wade Lucas began to talk about how desperately some types of drug and +some varieties of diagnostic equipment were needed. Conn had it on the +tip of his tongue to ask Lucas whether he thought that was a racket, +too. Lucas must have read his mind. + +"I really didn't understand how much good this would do," he said. "I +wouldn't have spoken so forcefully against it if I had. I thought it +was nothing but this Merlin thing--" + +"Aaagh! Don't talk to me about Merlin!" Conn interrupted. "I have to +talk to Kurt Fawzi and that crowd about Merlin till I'm sick of the +whole subject." + +His father shot him a warning glance; Lucas was looking at him in +surprise. He hastened to change the subject: + +"I see Len made you a suit out of that material," he said to his +father. "And I see you're not bulging the coat out behind with a +hip-holster." + +"Oh, I stopped carrying a gun; I'm a city man, now. Nobody carries one +in Storisende. Won't even be necessary in Litchfield before long. Our +new marshal had a regular reign of terror in Tramptown for a few days, +and you wouldn't know the place. Wade, here, is acting mayor now." + +They went back to talking about the new company. "You're going to have +so many companies you won't be able to to keep track of them before +long," Conn said. + +"Well, I'm doing something about that. A holding company; Trisystem +Investments, Ltd.; you're a non-office-holding stockholder in that, +too." + +Merlin was now a political issue. A bill had been introduced in +Parliament to amend the Abandoned Property Act of 867 and nationalize +Merlin, when and if discovered and regardless by whom. The support +seemed to come from an extremist minority; everybody else, including +the Administration, was opposed to it. There was considerable +acrimony, however, on the propositions: 1) that Merlin was too +important to the prosperity of Poictesme to become a private monopoly; +and 2) that Merlin was too important, etc., to become a political +football and patronage plum. + +It was discovered, after they were half assembled, that the controls +for the _Harriet Barne_ would only work while she was in a horizontal +position. The whole thing had to be torn out and rebuilt. There was +also trouble with the air-and-water recycling system. The _City of +Nefertiti_ came in from Aton for Odin; Rodney Maxwell was almost +frantic because they hadn't gotten together a cargo of medical stores +from the first hospital to be opened. + +"There's all sorts of stuff," he was fuming, by screen. "Stuff that's +in short supply anywhere and that we could get good prices for +off-planet. Get Federation sols for it, too." + +"The _City of Asgard_ will be along in six months," Conn said. "You +can have a real cargo assembled by then. You can make arrangements in +advance to dispose of it on Terra or Baldur or Marduk." + +"There are a couple of other companies interested in interplanetary +ships now," his father added. "One of them had gotten four old +freighters off Mothball Row, and they're tearing them down and +cannibalizing them into one spaceship. That work's being done here at +Storisende Spaceport. And another company has gotten title to a couple +of old office buildings and has a gang at work dismantling them for +the structural steel. I think they're going to build a real +spaceship." + +That wasn't anything to worry about either. The _Harriet Barne_ was +better than half finished. There was a collapsium plant at Storisende +Spaceport, but Yves Jacquemont said it was only half the size of the +one at Barathrum; it would be three months before it could produce +armor for one, let alone both, ships. + +The crackpots were getting into the act, now, too. A spirit medium on +the continent of Acaire, to the north, had produced a communication +purporting to originate with a deceased Third Force Staff officer, now +in the Spirit World. There was considerable detail, all ludicrous to +Conn's professional ear. And a fanatic in one of the small towns on +the west coast was quoting the Bible, the Koran, and the Bhagavadgita +to prove that if Merlin were ever found, Divine vengeance in a +spectacular form would fall not only on Poictesme but on the entire +Galaxy. + +The spaceship that was building at Storisende got into the news; +on-screen, it appeared that the work was progressing rapidly. So was +the work of demolishing a block of empty buildings to get girders for +the second ship, on which work had not yet been started. The one under +construction seemed to be of cruciform design, like an old-fashioned +pre-contragravity winged airplane. The design puzzled everybody at +Barathrum. Yves Jacquemont thought that perhaps there would be decks +in the cross-arm which would be used when the ship was running on +combined lift and drive. + +"Well, till we can get a shipyard going on Koshchei and build some +real spaceships, there are going to be some rare-looking objects +traveling around the Alpha System. I wonder what the next one's going +to look like--a flying sky-scraper?" Conn said. + +"What I wonder," Yves Jacquemont replied, "is where all the old +interplanetary ships got to. There must have been hundreds of them +running back and forth from here to Janicot and Koshchei and Jurgen +and Horvendile during the War. They must have gone somewhere." + +"Couldn't they all have been fitted with Dillingham hyperdrive +engines and used in the evacuation?" + +"Possible. But the average interplanetary ship isn't very big; five +hundred to seven-fifty feet in diameter. One of those things couldn't +carry more than a couple of hundred people, after you put in all the +supplies and the hydroponic tanks and carniculture vats and so on for +a four- to six-month voyage. I can't see the economy of altering +anything that small for interstellar work. Why, the smallest of these +tramp freighters that come in here will run about fifteen hundred +feet." + +They didn't just disintegrate when peace broke out, that was for sure. +And there certainly weren't any of them left on Poictesme. He puzzled +over it briefly, then shoved it aside. He had more important things to +think about. + +In his spare time he was studying, along with his other work, +everything he could find on Koshchei, with an intensity he had not +given to anything since cramming for examinations at the University. +There was a lot of it. + +The fourth planet of Alpha Gartner was older than Poictesme; +geologists claimed that it was the oldest thing, the sun excepted, in +the system, and astrophysicists were far from convinced that it hadn't +been captured from either Beta or Gamma when the three stars had been +much closer together. It had certainly been formed at a much higher +temperature than Janicot or Poictesme or Jurgen or Horvendile. For +better than a billion years, it had been molten-hot, and it had lost +most of its lighter elements in gaseous form along with its primary +atmosphere, leaving little to form a light-rock crust. All that had +remained had been a core of almost pure iron and a mantle that was +mostly high-grade iron ore. + +The same process had gone on, as it cooled, as on any Terra-size +planet. After the surface had started to congeal, gases, mostly carbon +dioxide and water vapor, had come up to form a secondary atmosphere, +the water vapor forming a cloud envelope, condensing, and sending down +rain that returned immediately as steam. Solar radiations and electric +discharges broke some of that into oxygen and hydrogen; most of the +hydrogen escaped into space. Finally, the surface cooled further and +the rain no longer steamed off. + +The whole planet started to rust. It had been rusting, slowly, for the +billion or so years that had followed, and almost all the free oxygen +had become locked in iron oxide. The air was almost pure carbon +dioxide. It would have been different if life had ever appeared on +Koshchei, but apparently the right amino acids never assembled. Some +attempts had been made to introduce vegetation after the colonization +of Poictesme, but they had all failed. + +Men went to Koshchei; they worked out of doors in oxygen helmets, and +lived in airtight domes and generated their own oxygen. There had been +mines, and smelters, and blast furnaces and steel mills. And there had +been shipyards, where hyperships up to three thousand feet had been +built. They had all been abandoned when the War had ended; they were +waiting there, on an empty, lifeless planet. Some of them had been +built by the Third Fleet-Army Force during the War; most of them dated +back almost a century before that, to the original industrial boom. +All of them could be claimed under the Abandoned Property Act of 867, +since all had been taken over by the Federation, and the original +owners, or their heirs, compensated. + +And there was the matter of selecting a crew. As an influential +non-office-holding stockholder in all the companies involved, Conn +Maxwell, of course, would represent them. He would also serve as +astrogator. Clyde Nichols would command the ship in atmosphere, and +act as first mate in space. Mack Vibart would be chief engineer at all +times. Yves Jacquemont would be first officer under Nichols, and +captain outside atmosphere. They had three real space crewmen, named +Roddell, Youtsko and O'Keefe, who had been in Storisende jail as a +result of a riotous binge when their ship had lifted out, six months +before. The rest of the company--Jerry Rivas, Anse Dawes, Charley +Gatworth, Mohammed Matsui, and four other engineers, Ludvyckson, +Gomez, Karanja and Retief--rated as ordinary spacemen for the trip, +and would do most of the exploration work after landing. + +They got the controls put up; they would work in either position. The +engines were lifted in and placed. Conn finished the robo-pilot and +the astrogational computers and saw them installed. The air-and-water +recycling system went in. The collapsium armor went on. In the +news-screen, they saw the spaceship at Storisende still far from half +finished, with swarms of heavy-duty lifters and contragravity +machiners around it, and a set of landing-stands, on which the second +ship was to be built, in the process of construction. + +A tramp hyperspace freighter landed at Storisende, the _Andromeda_, +five months from Terra, with a cargo of general merchandise. Rodney +Maxwell and Wade Lucas had assembled a cargo of medicines and hospital +equipment which they thought could be sold profitably. They began +dickering with the owner-captain of the hypership. + +A farm-tramp down in the tobacco country to the south, evidently +ignorant that the former commander of the Third Force was still alive, +had proclaimed himself to be the reincarnation of Foxx Travis and was +forbidding everybody, on pain of court-martial and firing squad, from +meddling with Merlin. And an evangelist in the west was declaring that +Merlin was really Satan in mechanical shape. + +The _Harriet Barne_ was finished. The first test, lifting her to three +hundred miles, turning her bow-up, and taking her another thousand +miles, had been a success. They brought her back and set her down in +the middle of the crater, and began getting the supplies aboard. Kurt +Fawzi, Klem Zareff, Judge Ledue, Franz Veltrin and the others flew +over from Force Command. Sylvie Jacquemont came from Litchfield, and +so did Wade Lucas, Morgan Gatworth, Lester Dawes, Lorenzo Menardes and +a number of others. Neither Conn's mother nor sister came. + +"I don't know what's the matter with those two," Sylvie told him. +"They always seem to be scrapping with each other now, and the only +thing they can agree on is that you and your father ought to stop +whatever you're doing, right away. Your mother can't adjust to your +father being a big Storisende businessman, and she says he'll lose +every centisol he has and both of you will probably go to jail, and +then she's afraid you will find Merlin, and Flora's sure you and your +father are swindling everybody on the planet." + +"Sylvie, I had no idea things would be like that," he told her +contritely. "I wish I hadn't suggested that you stay there, now." + +"Oh, it isn't so bad, so far. Your mother and I get along all right +when Flora isn't there, and Flora and I get along when your mother +isn't around. Mealtimes aren't much fun, though." + +His father came out from Storisende, looked the ship over, and seemed +relieved. + +"I'm glad you're ready to get off," he said. "You know this hyperspace +freighter, the _Andromeda_? Some private group in Storisende has +chartered her. She's loading supplies now. I have a private detective +agency, Barton-Massarra, trying to find out where's she's going. I +think you'd better get this ship off, right away." + +"We have everything aboard, all the supplies and everything," +Jacquemont told him. "We can lift off tonight." + + + + +III + + +The ship lurched slightly. In the outside screens, the lights around, +the crowd that was waving good-bye, and the floor of the crater began +receding. The sound pickups were full of cheering, and the boom of a +big gun at one of the top batteries, and the recorded and amplified +music of a band playing the traditional "Spacemen's Hymn." + +"It's been a long time since I heard that played in earnest," +Jacquemont said. "Well, we're off to see the Wizard." + +The lights dwindled and merged into a tiny circle in the darkness of +the crater. The music died away; the cannon shots became a faint +throbbing. Finally, there was silence, and only the stars above and +the dark land and the starlit sea below. After a long while a sunset +glow, six hours past on Barathrum, appeared in the west, behind the +now appreciable curvature of the planet. + +"Stand by for shift to vertical," Captain Nichols called, his voice +echoing from PA-outlets through the ship. + +"Ready for shift, Captain Nichols," Jacquemont reported from the +duplicate-control panel. + +Conn went to the after bulkhead, leaning his back against it. "Ready +here, Captain," he said. + +Other voices took it up. Lights winked on the control panels. + +"Shifting over," Nichols said. "Your ship now, Captain Jacquemont." + +"Thank you, Mr. Nichols." + +The deck began to tilt, and then he was lying on his back, his feet +against the side of the control room, which had altered its shape and +dimensions. There was a jar as the drive went on in line with the new +direction of the lift and the ship began accelerating. He got to his +feet, and he and Charley Gatworth went to the astrogational computer +and began checking the data and setting the course for the point in +space at which Koshchei would be in a hundred and sixty hours. + +"Course set, Captain," he reported to Jacquemont, after a while. + +A couple of lights winked on the control panel. There was nothing more +to do but watch Poictesme dwindle behind, and listen to the newscasts, +and take turns talking to friends on the planet. + +They approached the halfway point; the acceleration rate decreased, +and the gravity indicator dropped, little by little. Everybody was +enjoying the new sense of lightness, romping and skylarking like newly +landed tourists on Luna. It was fun, as long as they landed on their +feet at each jump, and the food and liquids stayed on plates and in +glasses and cups. Yves Jacquemont began posting signs in conspicuous +places: + +WEIGHT IS WHAT YOU LIFT, MASS IS WHAT HURTS +WHEN IT HITS YOU. +WEIGHT DEPENDS ON GRAVITY; MASS IS ALWAYS CONSTANT. + +His father came on-screen from his office in Storisende. By then, +there was a 30-second time lag in communication between the ship and +Poictesme. + +"My private detectives found out about the _Andromeda_," he said. +"She's going to Panurge, in the Gamma System. They have a couple of +computermen with them, one they hired from the Stock Exchange, and one +they practically shanghaied away from the Government. And some of the +people who chartered the ship are members of a family that were +interested in a positronic-equipment plant on Panurge at the time of +the War." + +"That's all right, then; we don't need to worry about that any more. +They're just hunting for Merlin." + +Some of his companions were looking at him curiously. A little later, +Piet Ludvyckson, the electromagnetics engineer, said: "I thought you +were looking for Merlin, Conn." + +"Not on Koschchei. We're looking for something to build a hypership +out of. If I had Merlin in my hip pocket right now, I'd trade it for +one good ship like the _City of Asgard_ or the _City of Nefertiti_, +and give a keg of brandy and a box of cigars to boot. If we had a ship +of our own, we'd be selling lots of both, and not for Storisende +Spaceport prices, either." + +"But don't you think Merlin's important?" Charley Gatworth, who had +overheard him, asked. + +"Sure. If we find Merlin, we can run it for President. It would make a +better one than Jake Vyckhoven." + +He let it go at that. Plenty of opportunities later to expand the +theme. + +The gravitation gauge dropped to zero. Now they were in free fall, and +it lasted twice as long as Yves Jacquemont had predicted. There were a +few misadventures, none serious and most of them comic--For example, +when Jerry Rivas opened a bottle of beer, everybody was chasing the +amber globules and catching them in cups, and those who were splashed +were glad it hadn't been hot coffee. + +They made their second, 180-degree turnover while weightless. Then +they began decelerating and approached Koshchei stern-on, and the +gravity gauge began climbing slowly up again, and things began +staying put, and they were walking instead of floating. Koshchei grew +larger and larger ahead; the polar icecaps, and the faint dappling of +clouds, and the dark wiggling lines on the otherwise uniform red-brown +surface which were mountain ranges became visible. Finally they began +to see, first with the telescopic screens and then without +magnification, the little dots and specks that were cities and +industrial centers. + +Then they were in atmosphere, and Jacquemont made the final shift, to +horizontal position, and turned the ship over to Nichols. + +For a moment, the scout-boat tumbled away from the ship and Conn was +back in free fall. Then he got on the lift-and-drive and steadied it, +and pressed the trigger button, firing a green smoke bomb. Beside him, +Yves Jacquemont put on the radio and the screen pickups. He could see +the ship circling far above, and the manipulator-boat, with its +claw-arms and grapples, breaking away from it. Then he looked down on +the endless desert of iron oxide that stretched in all directions to +the horizon, until he saw a spot, optically the size of a +five-centisol piece, that was the shipbuilding city of Port Carpenter. +He turned the boat toward it, firing four more green smokes at +three-second intervals. The manipulator-boat started to follow, and +the _Harriet Barne_, now a distant speck in the sky, began coming +closer. + +Below, as he cut speed and altitude, he could see the pock-marks of +open-pit mines and the glint of sunlight on bright metal and +armor-glass roofs, the blunt conical stacks of nuclear furnaces and +the twisted slag-flows, like the ancient lava-flows of Barathrum. And, +he reflected, he was an influential non-office-holding stockholder in +every bit of it, as soon as they could screen Storisende and get +claims filed. + +A high tower rose out of the middle of Port Carpenter, with a +glass-domed mushroom top. That would be the telecast station; the +administrative buildings were directly below it and around its base. +He came in slowly over the city, above a spaceport with its empty +landing pits in a double circle around a traffic-control building, +and airship docks and warehouses beyond. More steel mills. Factories, +either hemispherical domes or long buildings with rounded tops. +Ship-construction yards and docks; for the most part, these were +empty, but on some of them the landing-stands of spaceships, like +eight-and ten-legged spiders, waiting for forty years for hulls to be +built on them. A few spherical skeletons of ships, a few with some of +the outer skin on. It wasn't until he was passing close to them that +he realized how huge they were. And stacks of material--sheet steel, +deckplate, girders--and contragravity lifters and construction +machines, all left on jobs that were never finished, the bright +rustless metal dulled by forty years of rain and windblown red dust. +They must have been working here to the very last, and then, when the +evacuation elsewhere was completed, they had dropped whatever they +were doing, piled into such ships as were completed, and lifted away. + +The mushroom-topped tower rose from the middle of a circular building +piled level on level, almost half a mile across. He circled over it, +saw an airship dock, and called the _Harriet Barne_ while Jacquemont +talked to Jerry Rivas, piloting the manipulator-boat. Rivas came in +and joined them in the air; they hovered over the dock and helped the +ship down when she came in, nudging her into place. + +By the time Conn and Jacquemont and Rivas and Anse Dawes and Roddell +and Youtsko and Karanja were out on the dock in oxygen helmets, the +ship's airlock was opening and Nichols and Vibart and the others were +coming out, towing a couple of small lifters loaded with equipment. + +The airlocked door into the building, at the end of the dock, was +closed; when somebody pulled the handle, it refused to open. That +meant it was powered from the central power plant, wherever that was. +There was a plug socket beside it, with the required voltage marked +over it. They used an extension line from a power unit on one of the +lifters to get it open, and did the same with the inner door; when it +was open, they passed into a dim room that stretched away ahead of +them and on either side. + +It looked like a freight-shipping room; there were a few piles of +boxes and cases here and there, and a litter of packing material +everywhere. A long counter-desk, and a bank of robo-clerks behind it. +According to the air-analyzer, the oxygen content inside was safely +high. They all pulled off their fishbowl helmets and slung them. + +"Well, we can bunk inside here tonight," somebody said. "It won't be +so crowded here." + +"We'll bunk here after we find the power plant and get the ventilator +fans going," Jacquemont said. + +Anse Dawes held up the cigarette he had lighted; that was all the +air-analyzer he needed. + +"That looks like enough oxygen," he said. + +"Yes, it makes its own ventilation; convection," Jacquemont said. "But +you go to sleep in here, and you'll smother in a big puddle of your +own exhaled CO_2. Just watch what the smoke from that cigarette's +doing." + +The smoke was hanging motionless a few inches from the hot ash on the +end of the cigarette. + +"We'll have to find the power plant, then," Matsui, the power-engineer +said. "Down at the bottom and in the middle, I suppose, and anybody's +guess how deep this place goes." + +"We'll find plans of the building," Jerry Rivas said. "Any big dig +I've ever been on, you could always find plans. The troubleshooters +always had them; security officer, and maintenance engineer." + +There were inside-use vehicles in the big room; they loaded what they +had with them onto a couple of freight-skids and piled on, starting +down a passage toward the center of the building. The passageways were +well marked with direction-signs, and they found the administrative +area at the top and center, around the base of the telecast-tower. The +security offices, from which police, military guard, fire protection +and other emergency services were handled, had a fine set of plans and +maps, not only for the building itself but for everything else in Port +Carpenter. The power plant, as Matsui had surmised, was at the very +bottom, directly below. + +The only trouble, after they found it, was that it was completely +dead. The reactors wouldn't react, the converters wouldn't convert, +and no matter how many switches they shoved in, there was no power +output. The inside telemetered equipment, of course, was self-powered. +Some of them were dead, too, but from those which still worked +Mohammed Matsui got a uniformly disheartening story. + +"You know what happened?" he said. "When this gang bugged out, back in +854, they left the power on. Now the conversion mass is all gone, and +the plutonium's all spent. We'll have to find more plutonium, and tear +this whole thing down and refuel it, and repack the mass-conversion +chambers--provided nothing's eaten holes in itself after the mass +inside was all converted." + +"How long will it take?" Conn asked. + +"If we can find plutonium, and if we can find robots to do the work +inside, and if there's been no structural damage, and if we keep at +it--a couple of days." + +"All right; let's get at it. I don't know where we'll find shipyards +like these anywhere else, and if we do, things'll probably be as bad +there. We came here to fix things up and start them, didn't we?" + + + + +XIV + + +It didn't take as long as Mohammed Matsui expected. They found the +fissionables magazine, and in it plenty of plutonium, each +subcritical slug in a five-hundred-pound collapsium canister. There +were repair-robots, and they only had to replace the cartridges in the +power units of three of them. They sent them inside the +collapsium-shielded death-to-people area--transmitter robots, to relay +what the others picked up through receptors wire-connected with the +outside; foremen-robots, globes a yard in diameter covered with horns +and spikes like old-fashioned ocean-navy mines; worker-robots, in a +variety of shapes, but mostly looking like many-clawed crabs. + +Neither the converter nor the reactor had sustained any damage while +the fissionables were burning out. So the robots began tearing out +reactor-elements, and removing plutonium slugs no longer capable of +sustaining chain reaction but still dangerously radioactive. Nuclear +reactors had become simpler and easier to service since the First Day +of the Year Zero, when Enrico Fermi put the first one into operation, +but the principles remained the same. Work was less back-breaking and +muscle-straining, but it called for intense concentration on screens +and meters and buttons that was no less exhausting. + +The air around them began to grow foul. Finally, the air-analyzer +squawked and flashed red lights to signal that the oxygen had dropped +below the safety margin. They had no mobile fan equipment, or time to +hunt any; they put on their fishbowl helmets and went back to work. +After twelve hours, with a few short breaks, they had the reactors +going. Jerry Rivas and a couple of others took a heavy-duty lifter and +went looking for conversion mass; they brought back a couple of tons +of scrap-iron and fed it to the converters. A few seconds after it was +in, the pilot lights began coming on all over the panels. They took +two more hours to get the oxygen-separator and the ventilator fans +going, and for good measure they started the water pumps and the +heating system. Then they all went outside to the ship to sleep. The +sun was just coming up. + +It was sunset when they rose and returned to the building. The +airlocks opened at a touch on the operating handles. Inside, the air +was fresh and sweet, the temperature was a pleasantly uniform 75 +degrees Fahrenheit, the fans were humming softly, and there was +running hot and cold water everywhere. + +Jerry Rivas, Anse Dawes, and the three tramp freighter fo'c'sle hands +took lifters and equipment and went off foraging. The rest of them +went to the communications center to get the telecast station, the +radio beacon, and the inside-screen system into operation. There were +a good many things that had to be turned on manually, and more things +that had been left on, forty years ago, and now had to be repowered or +replaced. They worked at it most of the night; before morning, almost +everything was working, and they were sending a signal across +twenty-eight million miles to Storisende, on Poictesme. + +It was late evening, Storisende time, but Rodney Maxwell, who must +have been camping beside his own screen, came on at once, which is to +say five and a half minutes later. + +"Well, I see you got in somewhere. Where are you, and how is +everything?" + +Then he picked up a cigar out of an ashtray in front of him and lit +it, waiting. + +"Port Carpenter; we're in the main administration building," Conn told +him. He talked for a while about what they had found and done since +their arrival. "Have you an extra viewscreen, fitted for recording?" +he asked. + +Five and a half minutes later, his father nodded. "Yes, right here." +He leaned forward and away from the communication screen in front of +him. "I have it on." He gave the wave-length combination. "Ready to +receive." + +"This is about all we have, now. Views we took coming in, from the +ship and a scout-boat." He started transmitting them. "We haven't sent +in any claims yet. I wasn't sure whether I should make them for +Alpha-Interplanetary, or Litchfield Exploration & Salvage." + +"Don't bother sending in anything to the Claims Office," his father +said. "Send anything you want to claim in here to me, and I'll have +Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong file them. They'll be made for a new +company we're organizing." + +"What? Another one?" + +His father nodded, grinning. "Koshchei Exploitation & Development; +we've made application already. We can't claim exclusive rights to the +whole planet, like the old interstellar exploration companies did +before the War, but since you're the only people on the planet, we can +come pretty close to it by detail." He was looking to one side, at the +other screen. "Great Ghu, Conn! This place of yours all together +beats everything I ever dug, Force Command and Barathrum Spaceport +included. How big would you say it is? More than ten miles in radius?" + +"About five or six. Ten or twelve miles across." + +"That's all right, then. We'll just claim the building you're in, now, +and the usual ten-mile radius, the same as at Force Command. We'll +claim the place as soon as the company's chartered; in the meantime, +send in everything else you can get views of." + +They set up a regular radio-and-screen watch after that. Charley +Gatworth and Piet Ludvyckson, both of whom were studying astrogation +in hopes of qualifying as space officers after they had a real +spaceship, elected themselves to that duty; it gave them plenty of +time for study. Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes, with whomever they could +find to help them, were making a systematic search. They looked first +of all for foodstuffs, and found enough in the storerooms of three +restaurants on the executive level to feed their own party in gourmet +style for a year, and enough in the main storerooms to provision an +army. They even found refrigerators and freeze-bins full of meat and +vegetables fresh after forty years. That surprised everybody, for the +power units had gone dead long ago. Then it was noticed that they were +covered with collapsium. Anything that would stop cosmic rays was a +hundred percent efficient as a heat insulator. + +Coming in, the first day, Conn had seen an almost completed hypership +bulking above the domes and roofs of Port Carpenter in the distance. +He saw it again on screen from a pickup atop the central tower. As +soon as the party was comfortably settled in the executive apartments +on the upper levels, he and Yves Jacquemont and Mack Vibart and Schalk +Retief, the construction engineer, found an aircar in one of the +hangars and went to have a closer look at her. + +She had all her collapsium on, except for a hundred-foot circle at the +top and a number of rectangular openings around the sides. Yves +Jacquemont said that would be where the airlocks would go. + +"They always put them on last. But don't be surprised at anything you +find or don't find inside. As soon as the skeleton's up they put the +armor on, and then build the rest of the ship out from the middle. It +might be slower getting material in through the airlock openings, but +it holds things together while they're working." + +They put on the car's lights, lifted to the top, and let down through +the upper opening. It was like entering a huge globular spider's web, +globe within globe of interlaced girders and struts and braces, +extending from the center to the outer shell. Even the spider was +home--a three-hundred-foot ball of collapsium, looking tiny at the +very middle. + +"Why, this isn't a ship!" Vibart cried in disgust. "This is just the +outside of a ship. They haven't done a thing inside." + +"Oh, yes, they have," Jacquemont contradicted, aiming a spotlight +toward the shimmering ball in the middle. "They have all the engines +in--Abbott lift-and-drive, Dillingham hyperdrives, pseudograv, power +reactors, converters, everything. They wouldn't have put on the +shielding if they hadn't. They did that as soon as they had the +outside armor on." + +"Wonder why they didn't finish her, if they got that far," Retief +said. + +"They didn't need her. They'd had it; they wanted to go home." + +"Well, we're not going to finish her, not with any fifteen men," +Retief said. "One man has only two hands, two feet and one brain; he +can only handle so much robo-equipment at a time." + +"I never expected we'd build a ship ourselves," Conn said. "We came to +look the place over and get a few claims staked. When we've done that, +we'll go back and get a real gang together." + +"I don't know where you'll find them," Jacquemont commented. "We'll +need a couple of hundred, and they ought all to be graduate engineers. +We can't do this job with farm-tramps." + +"You made some good shipyard men out of farm-tramps on Barathrum." + +"And what'll you do for supervisors?" + +"You're one. General superintendent. Mack, you and Schalk are a couple +of others. You just keep a day ahead of your men in learning the job, +you'll do all right." + +Vibart turned to Jacquemont. "You know, Yves, he'll do it," he said. +"He doesn't know how impossible this is, and when we try to tell him, +he won't believe us. You can't stop a guy like that. All right, Conn; +deal me in." + +"I won't let anybody be any crazier than I am," Jacquemont declared, +and then looked around the vastness of the empty ship with its +lacework of steel. "All you need is about ten million square feet of +decks and bulkheads, an air-and-water system, hydroponic tanks and +carniculture vats, astrogation and robo-pilot equipment, about which I +know very little, a hyperspace pilot system, about which I know +nothing at all.... Conn, why don't you just build a new Merlin? It +would be simpler." + +"I don't want a new Merlin. I'm not even interested in the original +Merlin. This is what I want, right here." + +He told his father, by screen, about the ship. "I believe we can +finish her, but not with the gang that's here. We'll need a couple of +hundred men. Now, with the supplies we've found, we can stay here +indefinitely. Should we do more exploring and claim some more of these +places, or should we come home right away and start recruiting, and +then come back with a large party, start work on the ship, and explore +and make further claims as we have time?" he asked. + +"Better come back as soon as possible. Just explore Port Carpenter, +find out what's going to be needed to finish the ship and what +facilities you have to produce it, and get things cleaned up a little +so that you can start work as soon as you have people to do it. I'm +organizing another company--don't laugh, now; I've only started +promotioneering--which I think we will call Trisystem & Interstellar +Spacelines. Get me all the views you can of the ship herself and of +the steel mills and that sort of thing that will produce material for +finishing her; I want to use them in promotion. By the way, has she a +name?" + +"Only a shipyard construction number." + +"Then suppose you call her _Ouroboros_, after Genji Gartner's old +ship, the one that discovered the Trisystem." + +"_Ouroboros II_; that's fine. Will do." + +"Good. I'll have Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong make application for a +charter right away. We'll have to make Alpha-Interplanetary one of the +stockholding companies, and also Koschchei Exploitation & Development, +and, of course, Litchfield Exploration & Salvage...." + +It was a pity there really wasn't a Merlin. If this kept on nothing +else would be able to figure out who owned how much stock in what. + +They found the on-the-job engineering office for the ship in a small +dome half a mile from the construction dock. Yves Jacquemont and Mack +Vibart and Schalk Retief moved in and buried themselves to the ears in +specifications and blueprints. The others formed into parties of three +or four, and began looking about production facilities for material. +There was a steel mill a mile from the construction site; it was +almost fully robotic. Iron ore went in at one end, and finished sheet +steel and girders and deck plates came out at the other, and a dozen +men could handle the whole thing. There was a collapsium plant; there +were machine-shops and forging-shops. Every time they finished +inspecting one, Yves Jacquemont would have a list of half a dozen more +plants that he wanted found and examined yesterday morning at the +latest. + +Some of them were in a frightful mess; work had been suspended and +everybody had gone away leaving everything as it was. Some were in +perfect order, ready to go into operation again as soon as power was +put on. It had depended, apparently, upon the personal character of +whoever had been in charge in the end. The nuclear-electric power unit +plant was in the latter class. The man in charge of it evidently +hadn't believed in leaving messes behind, even if he didn't expect to +come back. + +It was built in the shape of a T. One side of the cross-stroke +contained the cartridge-case plant, where presses formed sheet-steel +cylinders, some as small as a round of pistol ammunition and some the +size of ten-gallon kegs. They moved toward the center on a production +line, finally reaching a matter-collapser where they were plated with +collapsium. From the other side, radioactive isotopes, mostly +reactor-waste, came in through evacuated and collapsium-shielded +chambers, were sorted, and finally, where the cross-arm of the T +joined the downstroke, packed in the collapsium cases. The production +line continued at right angles down the long building in which the +apparatus which converted nuclear energy to electric current was +assembled and packed; at the end, the finished power cartridges came +off, big ones for heavy machines and tiny ones for things like hand +tools and pocket lighters and razors. There were stacks of them, in +all sizes, loaded on skids and ready to move out. Except for the +minute and unavoidable leakage of current, they were as good as the +day they were assembled, and would be for another century. + +Like almost everything else, the power-cartridge plant was airtight +and had its own oxygen-generator. The air-analyzer reported the oxygen +insufficient to support life. That was understandable; there were a +lot of furnaces which had evidently been hot when the power was cut +off; they had burned up the oxygen before cooling. They put on their +oxygen equipment when they got out of the car. + +"I'll go back and have a look at the power plant," Matsui said. "If +it's like the rest of this place, it'll be ready to go as soon as the +reactors are started. I wish everybody here had left things like +this." + +"Well, we'll have to check everything to make sure nothing was left on +when the main power was cut," Conn said. "Don't do anything back there +till we give you the go-ahead." + +Matsui nodded and set off on foot along the broad aisle in the middle. +Conn looked around in the dim light that filtered through the dusty +glass overhead. On either side of the central aisle were two +production lines; between each pair, at intervals, stood massive +machines which evidently fabricated parts for the power cartridges. +Over them, and over the machines directly involved in production, +were receptor aerials, all oriented toward a stubby tower, twenty +feet thick and fifty in height, topped by a hemispherical dome. + +"That'll be the control tower for all the machinery in here," he +decided. "Anse, suppose you and I go take a look at it." + +"We'll take a look at the machines," Rivas said. "Clyde, you and I can +work back on the right and then come down on the other side. You know +anything about this stuff?" + +"Me? Nifflheim, no," Nichols said. "I know a robo-control when I see +one, and I know whether it's set to receive or not." + +There was a self-powered lift inside the control tower. Conn and Anse +rode it to the top and got out, Anse snapping on his flashlight. It +was dark in the dome at the top; instead of windows there were +viewscreens all around it. Five men had worked here; at least, there +were four chairs at four intricate control panels, one for each of the +four production lines, and a fifth chair in front of a number of +communication screens. There was a heavy-duty power unit, turned off. +Conn threw the switch. Lights came on inside, and the outside +viewscreens lit. + +They were examining the control-panels when Conn's belt radio buzzed. +He plugged it in on his helmet. It was Mohammed Matsui. + +"There's one big power plant back here," the engineer said. "Right in +the middle. It only powers what's in front of it. There must be +another one in either wing, for the isotope plant and the +cartridge-case plant. I'll go look at them. But the power's been cut +off from the machines in the main building. There's four big switches, +one for each production line--" + +He was interrupted by a shout, almost a shriek, from somewhere. It +sounded like Jerry Rivas. A moment later, Rivas was clamoring: + +"Conn! What did you turn on? Turn it off, right away!" + +Anse jumped to the switch, pulling it with one hand and getting on his +flashlight with the other. The lights went out and the screens went +dark. + +"It's off." + +"The dickens it is!" Rivas disputed. "There are a couple of big +supervisor-robots circling around, and a flock of workers...." + +At the same time, Clyde Nichols began cursing. Or maybe he was +praying; it was hard to be certain. + +"But we pulled the switch. It was only the lights and viewscreens in +here, anyhow." + +"It didn't do any good. Pull another one." + +Matsui, back at the power plant, was wanting to know what was wrong. +Captain Nichols stopped cursing--or praying?--and said, "Mutiny, +that's what! The robots have turned on us!" + +He knew what had happened, or was almost sure he did. A radio impulse +had gone out, somehow, from the control tower. Something they hadn't +checked, that had been left on. There was just enough current-leakage +from the units in the robots to keep the receptors active for forty +years. The supervisor-robots had gone active, and they had activated +the rest. Once on, cutting the current from the control tower wouldn't +turn them off again. + +"Put the switch in again, Anse; the damage is done and you won't make +it any worse." + +When the screens came on, he looked around from one to another. The +two supervisors, big ovoid things like the small round ones they had +used in repairing the power reactors the first day, were circling +aimlessly near the roof, one clockwise and the other counterclockwise, +dodging obstructions and getting politely out of each other's way. At +lower altitude, a dozen assorted worker-robots were moving about, and +more were emerging from cells at the end of the building. Sweepers, +with rotary brooms and rakes, crablike all-purpose handling robots, a +couple of vacuum-cleaning robots, each with a flexible funnel-tipped +proboscis and a bulging dust-sack. One tiling, a sort of special job +designed to get into otherwise inaccessible places, had a twenty-foot, +many-jointed, claw-tipped arm in front. It passed by and slightly over +the tower, saw Clyde Nichols, and swooped toward him. With a howl, +Nichols dived under one of the large machines between two production +lines. A pistol went off a couple of times. That would be Jerry Rivas. +Nobody else bothered with a gun on Koshchei, but he carried one as +some people carry umbrellas, whether he expected to need it or not and +because he would feel lost without it. + +That he took in at one glance. Then he was looking at the control +panels. The switches and buttons were all marked for machine-control +in different steps of power-unit production. That was all for the big +stuff, powered centrally. There weren't any controls for lifters or +conveyers or other mobile equipment. Evidently they were handled out +in the shop, from mobile control-vehicles. He did find, on the +communication-screen panel, a lot of things that had been left on. He +snapped them off, one after another, snapping them on when a screen +went dark. There were fifteen or twenty robots, some rather large, in +the air or moving on the floor by now. + +"We can't do anything here," he told Anse. "These are the +shop-cleaning robots. They were the last things used here when the +place closed down, and the two supervisors were probably controlled +from a vehicle, and it's anybody's guess where that is now. When you +threw that switch, it sent out an impulse that activated them. They're +running their instruction-tapes, and putting the others through all +their tricks." + +Three more shots went off. Jerry Rivas was shouting: "Hey, whattaya +know! I killed one of the buggers!" + +There were any number of ways in which a work-robot could be shot out +of commission with a pistol. All of them would be by the purest of +pure luck. The next time we go into a place like this, Conn thought, +we take a couple of bazookas along. + +"Turn everything off and let's go. See what we can do outside." + +Anse put on his flashlight and pulled the switch. They got into the +lift and rode down, going outside. As soon as they emerged, they saw a +rectangular object fifteen feet long settle over their aircar, let +down half a dozen clawed arms, and pick it up, flying away with it. It +had taped instructions to remove anything that didn't belong in the +aisleway; it probably asked the supervisor about the aircar, and the +supervisor didn't return an inhibitory signal, so it went ahead. Conn +and Anse both shouted at it, knowing perfectly well that shouting was +futile. Then they were running for their lives with one of the +crablike all-purpose jobs after them. They dived under the slightly +raised bed of a long belt-conveyer and crawled. Jerry Rivas fired +another shot, somewhere. + +The robots themselves were having troubles. They had done all the work +they were supposed to do; now the supervisors were insisting that they +do it over again. Uncomplainingly, they swept and raked and +vacuum-cleaned where they had vacuum-cleaned and raked and swept forty +years ago. The scrap-pickers, having picked all the scrap, were going +over the same places and finding nothing, and then getting deflected +and gathering a lot of things not definable as scrap, and then +circling around, darting away from one another in obedience to their +radar-operated evasion-systems, and trying to get to the outside scrap +pile, and finding that the doors wouldn't open because the door +openers weren't turned on, and finally dumping what they were carrying +when the supervisors gave them no instructions. + +One of them seemed to have dumped something close to where Clyde +Nichols was hiding; if his language had been a little stronger, it +would have burned out Conn's radio. Their own immediate vicinity being +for the moment clear of flying robots, Conn and Anse rolled from under +the conveyer and legged it between the two production lines. +Immediately, three of the crablike all-purpose handling-robots saw +them, if that was the word for it, and came dashing for them, followed +by a thing that was mostly dump-lifter; it was banging its bin-lid up +and down angrily. About fifty yards ahead, Jerry Rivas stepped from +behind a machine and fired; one of the handling-robots flashed green +from underneath, went off contragravity, and came down with a crash. +Immediately, like wolves on a wounded companion, the other two pounced +upon it, dragging and pulling against each other. That was a hunk of +junk; their orders were to remove it. + +The mobile trash-bin went zooming up to the ceiling, reversed within +twenty feet of it and came circling back to the ground, to go zooming +up again. It had gone crazy, literally. It had been getting too many +contradictory orders from its supervisor, and its circuits were +overloaded and its relays jammed. Rats in mazes and human-type people +in financial difficulties go psychotic in very much the same way. + +The two surviving all-purpose robots were also headed for a padded +repair shop. They had come close enough to each other to activate +their anticollision safeties. Immediately, they flew apart. Then their +order to pick up that big piece of junk took over, and they started +forward again, to be bounced apart as soon as they were within five +feet of one another. If left alone, their power units would run down +in a year or so; until then, they would keep on trying. + +Soulless intelligences, indeed! Then it occurred to him that for the +past however-long-it-had-been he hadn't heard from Mohammed Matsui. He +jiggled his radio. + +"Ham, where are you? Are you still alive?" + +"I'm back at the power plant," Matsui said exasperatedly. "There's a +big thing circling around here; every time I stick my head out, he +makes a dive at me. I didn't know robots would attack people." + +"They don't. He just thinks you're some more trash he's been told to +gather up." + +Matsui was indignant. Conn laughed. + +"On the level, Ham. He has photoelectric vision, and a picture of what +that aisle is supposed to look like. When you get out in it, he knows +you don't belong there and tries to grab you." + +"Hey, there's a lot of junk in here in a couple of baskets at the +converter. Say I chuck one out to him; what would he do?" + +"Grab it and take it away, like he's taped to do." + +"Okay; wait a minute." + +They couldn't see the archway to the power plant, or even the robot +that had Matsui penned up, but after a few minutes they saw it soaring +away, clutching a big wire basket full of broken boxes and other +rubbish. It headed for the mutually repelling swarm of robots around +the door that wouldn't open for them. Conn and Anse and Jerry ran +toward the rear, joined by Clyde Nichols, who popped up from behind a +pile of spools of electric wire. They made it just before the +coffin-shaped thing that had carried off the aircar came over to +investigate. + +"You want to be careful back there," Matsui told them, as they started +toward the temporary safety of the power plant. "All the +reactor-repair robots are there; don't get _them_ on the warpath +next." + +Of course! There were always repair-robots at a power plant, to go +into places no human could enter and live. Behind the collapsium +shielding, they wouldn't have been activated. + +"Let's have a look at them. What kind?" + +"Standard reactor-servicers; the same we used at the administration +center." + +Matsui opened the door, and they went into the power plant. Conn and +Matsui put on the service-power and activated the two supervisors; +they, in turn, activated their workers. It was tricky work getting +them all outside the collapsium-walled power-plant area; each worker +had to be passed through by the supervisor inside, under Matsui's +control. Because of the close quarters at which they worked inside the +reactor and the converter, they weren't fitted with anticollision +repulsors, and, working under close human supervision, they all had +audiovisual pickups. It took some time to get adequate screens set up +outside the collapsium. + +Finally, they were ready. Their two supervisors went up to the +ceiling, one controlled by Conn and the other by Matsui. The larger, +egg-shaped shop-labor supervisors were still moving in irregular +orbits; those of the workers still able to receive commands were +trying to obey them, and the rest were jammed in a swarm at the other +end. + +First one, and then the other of the labor-boss robots were captured. +They were by now at the end of what might, loosely, be called their +wits. They weren't used to operating without orders, and had been +sending out commands largely at random. Now they came to a stop, and +then began moving in tight, guided circles; one by one, the worker +robots still able to heed them were brought to ground and turned off. +That left the swarm at the door. The worker-robots under direct +control of the power-plant supervisors went after them, grappling them +and hauling them down to where Anse and Jerry Rivas and Captain +Nichols could turn them off manually. + +The aircar was a hopeless wreck, but its radio was still functioning. +Conn called Charley Gatworth, who called a gang under Gomez, working +not far away; they came with another car. + +It took all the next day for a gang of six of them to get the place +straightened up. Neither Conn nor Gomez, who was a roboticist himself, +would trust any of the workers or the two supervisors; their +experiences out of control had rendered them unreliable. They took out +their power units and left them to be torn down and repaired later. +Other robots were brought in to replace them. When they were through, +the power-unit cartridge plant was ready for operation. + +Jerry Rivas wanted to start production immediately. + +"We'll have to go back to Poictesme pretty soon," he said. "We don't +want to go back empty. Well, I know that no matter what we dug up, and +what we could sell or couldn't sell, there's always a market for +power-unit cartridges. Electric-light units, household-appliance +units, aircar and airboat units, any size at all. We run that plant at +full capacity for a few days and we can load the _Harriett Barne_ +full, and I'll bet the whole cargo will be sold in a week after we get +in." + + + + +XV + + +The _Harriet Barne_ settled comfortably at the dock, the +bunting-swathed tugs lifting away from her. They had the outside sound +pickups turned as low as possible, and still the noise was deafening. +The spaceport was jammed, people on the ground and contragravity +vehicles swarming above, with police cars vainly trying to keep them +in order. All the bands in Storisende seemed to have been combined; +they were blaring the "Planetary Hymn"; + +_Genji Gartner's body lies a-moldering in the tomb, +But his soul goes marching on!_ + +When they opened the airlock, there was a hastily improvised +ceremonial barge, actually a farm-scow completely draped in red and +white, the Planetary colors. They all stopped, briefly, as they came +out, to enjoy the novelty of outdoor air which could actually be +breathed. Conn saw his father in the scow, and beside him Sylvie +Jacquemont, trying, almost successfully, to keep from jumping up and +down in excitement. Morgan Gatworth to meet his son, and Lester Dawes +to meet his. Kurt Fawzi, Dolf Kellton, Colonel Zareff, Tom Brangwyn. +He didn't see his mother, or his sister. Flora he had hardly counted +on, but he was disappointed that his mother wasn't there to meet him. + +Sylvie was embracing her father as he shook hands with his; then she +threw her arms around his neck. + +"Oh, Conn, I'm so happy! I was watching everything I could on-screen, +everything you saw, and all the places you were, and everything you +were doing...." + +The scow--pardon, ceremonial barge--gave a slight lurch, throwing +them together. Over her shoulder, he saw his father and Yves +Jacquemont exchanging grins. Then they had to break it up while he +shook hands with Fawzi and Judge Ledue and the others, and by the time +that was over, the barge was letting down in front of the stand at the +end of the dock, and the band was still deafening Heaven with "Genji +Gartner's Body," and they all started up the stairs to be greeted by +Planetary President Vyckhoven; he looked like an elderly bear who has +been too well fed for too long in a zoo. And by Minister-General +Murchison, who represented the Terran Federation on Poictesme. He was +thin and balding, and he looked as though he had just mistaken the +vinegar cruet for the wine decanter. Genji Gartner's soul stopped +marching on, but the speeches started, and that was worse. And after +the speeches, there was the parade, everybody riding in +transparent-bodied aircars, and the _Lester Dawes_ and the two ships +of the new Planetary Air Navy and a swarm of gunboats in column five +hundred feet above, all firing salutes. + +In spite of what wasn't, but might just as well have been, a concerted +conspiracy to keep them apart, he managed to get a few words privately +with Sylvie. + +"My mother; she didn't get here. Is anything wrong?" + +"Is anything anything else? I've been in the middle of it ever since +you went away. Your mother's still moaning about all these companies +your father's promoting--he never used to do anything like that, and +it's all too big, and it's going to end in a big smash. And then she +gets onto Merlin. You know, she won't say Merlin, she always calls it, +'that thing.'" + +"I've noticed that." + +"Then she begins talking about all the horrible things that'll happen +when it's found, and that sets Flora off. Flora says Merlin's a big +fake, and you and your father are using it to rob thousands of widows +and orphans of their life savings, and that sets your mother off +again. Self-sustaining cyclic reaction, like the Bethe solar-phoenix. +And every time I try to pour a little oil on the troubled waters, I +find I've gotten it on the fire instead. And then, Flora had this +fight with Wade Lucas, and of course, she blames you for that." + +"Good heavens, why?" + +"Well, she couldn't blame it on herself, could she? Oh, you mean why +the fight? Lucas is in business with your father now, and she can't +convince him that you and your father are a pair of quadruple-dyed +villains, I suppose. Anyhow, the engagement is _phttt_! Conn, is my +father going back to Koshchei?" + +"As soon as we can round up some people to help us on the ship." + +"Then I'm going along. I've had it, Conn. I'm a combat-fatigue case." + +"But, Sylvie; that isn't any place for a girl." + +"Oh, poo! This is Sylvie. We're old war buddies. We soldiered together +on Barathrum; remember?" + +"Well, you'd be the only girl, and...." + +"That's what you think. If you expect to get any kind of a gang +together, at least a third of them will be girls. A lot of technicians +are girls, and when work gets slack, they're always the first ones to +get shoved out of jobs. I'll bet there are a thousand girl technicians +out of work here--any line of work you want to name. I know what I'll +do; I'll make a telecast appearance. I still have some news value, +from the Barathrum business. Want to bet that I won't be the working +girl's Joan of Arc by this time next week?" + +That cheered him. A girl can punch any kind of a button a man can, and +a lot of them knew what buttons to punch, and why. Say she could find +fifty girls.... + +He had a slightly better chance to talk to his father before the +banquet at the Executive Palace that evening. They shared the same +suite at the Ritz-Gartner, and even welcoming committees seldom chase +their victims from bedroom to bath. + +"Yes, I know all about it," Rodney Maxwell said bitterly. "I was home, +a couple of weeks ago. Flora simply will not speak to me, and your +mother begged me, in tears, to quit everything we're doing here. I +tried to give her some idea of what would happen if I dropped this, +even supposing I could; she wouldn't listen to me." He finished +putting the studs in his shirt. "You still think this is worth what +it's costing us?" + +"You saw the views we sent back. There's work on Koshchei for a +million people, at least. Why, even these two makeshift ships they're +putting together here at Storisende are giving work, one way or +another, to almost a thousand. Think what things will be like a year +from now, if this keeps on." + +Rodney Maxwell gave a wry laugh. "Didn't know I had a real Simon-pure +altruist for a son." + +"Pardner, when you call me that, smile." + +"I am smiling. With some slight difficulty." + +He didn't think well of the banquet. Back in Litchfield, Senta would +have fired half her human help and taken a sledgehammer to her +robo-chef for a meal like that. Even his father's camp cook would have +been ashamed of it. And there were more speeches. + +President Vyckhoven managed to get hold of him and Yves Jacquemont +afterward, and steered them into his private study. + +"Have you any real reason for thinking that Merlin might be on +Koshchei?" the Planetary President asked. + +"Great Ghu, no! We weren't looking for Merlin, Mr. President. We were +looking for a hypership. We have one, too. Calling her _Ouroboros II_. +Twenty-five-hundred-footer. We expect to have her to space in a few +months. I surely don't need to tell you what that will do toward +restoring planetary prosperity." + +"No, of course not; a hypership of our own. But...." He looked from +one to the other of them. "But I understood.... That is, Mr. Kurt +Fawzi was saying...." + +"Mr. Fawzi is looking for Merlin here on Poictesme. If anybody finds +it, that's where it'll be found. I'm interested in getting business +started again. If Merlin is found, it would help, of course." He +shrugged. + +"Don't look at me," Jacquemont said. "Mr. Maxwell--both of them, +father and son--want some spaceships. They hired me to help build +them. That's all I have in it." Then he relit the cigar the President +had given him and leaned back in his chair, staring at the stuffed +alcesoid head with the seven-foot hornspread above the fireplace. + +Conn described the interview to his father after they were back at the +hotel. + +"I hope you convinced him. You know, he's afraid of Merlin. A lot of +people have been saying that if Merlin's found, it should be used to +determine Government policy. A few extremists are beginning to say +that Merlin ought to _be_ the Government, and Jake Vyckhoven and his +cronies ought to be dumped. Into the handiest mass-energy converter, +preferably. You know, if anybody found Merlin and started it auditing +the Planetary Treasury, Jake Vyckhoven'd be the one who'd be wanting a +hypership." + +Tom Brangwyn ran him down the next morning in the dining room. + +"Conn, I wish you'd come along with me," he said. "Some of us are up +in Kurt's suite; we'd all like to talk to you." + +Somehow, he was acting as though he were making an arrest. That might +have been nothing but professional habit. Conn went up to Fawzi's +suite, and found Fawzi and Judge Ledue and Dolf Kellton and close to a +dozen others there. + +"I'm glad you could come, Conn," the Judge greeted him. Now that the +defendant had arrived, the trial could begin. "I wish your father +could have gotten here. I asked him to come, but he had a prior +engagement. A meeting with some of the financial people here, about +some company he's interested in." + +"That's right; Trisystem & Interstellar Spacelines." + +"Interstellar!" Kurt Fawzi almost howled. "Great Ghu! Now it isn't +enough to go out to Koshchei; he wants to go clear out of the +Trisystem. That's what we wanted to talk about; all this nonsense you +and your father are in. Merlin's right here on Poictesme. It's right +at Force Command, and if your father hadn't robbed us of all our best +men, like Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes, we'd have found it by now. I +don't think you and your father care a hoot if we ever find Merlin or +not!" + +"Kurt, that's a dreadful thing to say," Dolf Kellton objected in a +shocked voice. + +"It's a dreadful thing to have to say," Fawzi replied, "but you tell +me what Conn Maxwell or Rodney Maxwell are doing to help find it." + +"Who showed you where Force Command was?" Klem Zareff asked. + +Nobody could think of any good quick comeback to that. + +Conn took advantage of the pause to ask, "Why do you want to find +Merlin?" + +"Why do we ..." Fawzi spluttered indignantly. "If you don't know...." + +"I know why I do. I want to see if you do. Do you?" + +"Merlin would answer so many questions," Dolf Kellton told him gently. +"Questions I can't answer for myself." + +"With Merlin, we could set up a legal code and a system of +jurisprudence that would give everybody absolute justice," Judge Ledue +said. + +As if absolute justice wasn't the last thing anybody in his right +senses would want; a robot-judge would have the whole planet in jail +inside a month. + +"We have a man who joined us after you went off to Koshchei, Conn," +Franz Veltrin said. "A Mr. Carl Leibert. He's some kind of a +clergyman, from over Morven way. He says that Merlin could formulate +an entirely new religion, which would regenerate humanity." + +"Well, I don't have any such lofty ideas," Fawzi said. "I just want +Merlin to show us how to get some prosperity here; bring things back +to what they were before Poictesme went broke." + +"And that's what Father and I are trying to do. You're going into the +woods with a book on how to chop down a tree, and no ax." Fawzi looked +at him in surprise, started to say something, and thought better of +it. "If we want prosperity, we need tools. Our problem is loss of +markets. If we find Merlin, and tape it with everything that's +happened in the forty years since it was shut down, Merlin will tell +us where to find new markets. But the markets won't come to us. We'll +have to do our own exporting, and we'll need ships. Now, you men have +been studying about Merlin, and hunting for Merlin, all your lives. I +can't add anything to what you know, and neither can my father. You +find Merlin, and we'll have the ships ready when you do find it." + +"Kurt, I think he has a point," somebody said. + +"You're blasted well right he has," Klem Zareff put in. "If it wasn't +for Conn Maxwell, you know where we'd be? Back in Litchfield, sitting +around in Kurt's office, talking about how wonderful things'll be when +we find Merlin, and doing nothing to find it." + +"Kurt, I believe Conn is entitled to an apology," Judge Ledue ruled. +"How close we are to finding Merlin I don't know, but it is due to him +that we have any hope of finding it at all." + +"Conn, I'm sorry," Fawzi said. "I oughtn't to have said some of the +things I did. But we're all on edge; we've been having so much +trouble.... Conn, it's right there at Force Command; I know it is. +We've been all over the place. We have shafts sunk at each of the +corners; we've used scanners, and put off echo shots. Nothing. We +looked for additional passages out of the headquarters; there aren't +any. But it has to be somewhere around. It just _has_ to be!" + +"Maybe if I go out to Force Command with you, I might see something +you've overlooked. And if I can't, I'll try to scrape up some stuff on +Koshchei for you. Deep-vein scanners, that sort of thing, from the +mines." + +They took the _Lester Dawes_ out at a little past noon and turned +south and east. Everybody aboard was happy--except Conn Maxwell. He +was thinking of the years and years ahead of these trusting, hopeful +old men, each year the grave of another expectation. Two hundred miles +from Force Command, the _Goblin_ met them, her sides still spalled and +dented from the hits she had taken in Barathrum Spaceport. When they +came in sight of it, the mesa-top was deserted. Fawzi began wondering +where in Nifflheim all the drilling rigs, and the seismo-trucks, were. +Somebody with a pair of binoculars called attention to activity on the +side of the high butte on top of which the relay station was located. +Fawzi began swearing exasperatedly. + +"Might be something Mr. Leibert thought of," Franz Veltrin suggested. + +"Then why in blazes didn't he screen us about it?" + +"Who is this Leibert?" Conn asked. "Somebody mentioned him this +morning, I think." + +"He joined us after you left, Conn," Dolf Kellton said. "He's a +clergyman from Morven. No regular denomination; he has a sect of his +own." + +"Yah, he would!" Klem Zareff rumbled. "Pious fraud!" + +"He's really a good man, Conn; Klem's prejudiced. He says we ought to +use Merlin to show us the true nature of God, and how to live in +accordance with the Divine Will. He says Merlin can teach us a new +religion." + +A new religion, based on Merlin; that would be good. And then the +fanatics who thought Merlin was the Devil would start a holy war to +wipe out the servants of Satan, and with all the combat equipment that +was lying around on this planet.... For the first time since this +business started, he began to feel really frightened. + +An aircar came bulleting away from the butte and landed on the mesa as +the _Lester Dawes_ set down. The man who met them at the head of the +vertical shaft wore Federation fatigues--baggy trousers, ankle boots +and long smock, dyed black. He was bareheaded, and his white hair was +almost shoulder-long. He had a white beard. + +"Welcome, Brothers," he greeted, a hand raised in benediction. "And +who is this with you?" + +His voice was high and quavery; not a good pulpit voice, Conn thought. + +Kurt Fawzi introduced Conn, and Leibert grasped his hand with a grip +that was considerably stronger than his voice. + +"Bless you, young man! It is to you alone that we owe our thanks that +we are about to find the Great Computer. Every sapient being in the +Galaxy will honor your name for a thousand years." + +"Well, I hadn't counted on quite that much, Mr. Leibert. If it'll only +help a few of these people to make a decent living I'll be satisfied." + +Leibert shook his head sadly. "You think entirely in material terms, +young man," he reproved. "Forget these things; acquire the higher +spiritual values. The Great Computer must not be degraded to such +uses; we should let it show us how to lift ourselves to a high +spiritual plane...." + +It went on like that, after they went down to Foxx Travis's--now +Fawzi's--office, where there were silver-stoppered decanters instead +of the old green-glass pitcher, and gold-plated ashtrays, and thick +carpets on the floor. The man was a lunatic; he made Fawzi's office +gang look frigidly sane. Furthermore, he was an ignoramus. He had no +idea what a computer could or couldn't do. Anybody who could build a +computer of the sort he thought Merlin was wouldn't need it, he +_would_ be God. + +As he talked, Conn began to be nagged by an odd sense of recognition. +He'd seen this Carl Leibert before, somewhere, and somehow he was sure +that the long white hair and the untrimmed beard weren't part of the +picture. That puzzled him. He doubted if he'd have remembered Leibert +from six years ago, almost seven, now, though a lot of itinerant +evangelists showed up in Litchfield. That might have been it. + +"I tell you, the Great Computer is there, in the heart of the butte," +Leibert was insisting, now. "It has been revealed to me in a dream. It +is completely buried. After it was made, no human touched it. The men +who were here and used it in the War communicated with it only by +radio." + +That could be so. There were fully robotic computers, intended for use +in places where no human could go and live. There was a big one on +Nifflheim, armored against the fluorine atmosphere and the +hydrofluoric-acid rains. But there was no point in that here, the +things were enormously complicated, and military engineering of any +sort emphasized simplicity--_Aaaagh!_ Was he beginning to believe this +balderdash himself? + +Klem Zareff fell in with him as they were going to dinner. "Revealed +in a dream!" the old Rebel snorted. "One thing you can always get +away with lying about is what you dream." + +"You think he's lying? I think he's just crazy." + +"That's what he wants you to think. Look, Conn, he knows Merlin is +here; he's trying to keep us from it. That's why he shifted all that +equipment over on the butte. He's working for Sam Murchison." + +"I thought your theory was that the Federation had lost Merlin." + +"It was, at first. It doesn't look that way to me now. It's right here +at Force Command, somewhere. They don't want it found, and they're +going to do everything they can to stop us. I oughtn't to have left +this fellow Leibert here alone; well, I won't do that again. Get Tom +Brangwyn to help me." + + + + +XVI + + +The voyage back to Koshchei had been a week-long nightmare. When she +had been the pride and budget-wrecker of Transcontinent & Overseas +Airline, the _Harriet Barne_ had accommodated two hundred first-class +and five hundred lower-deck passengers, but the conversion to a +spaceship had drastically reduced her capacity. The three hundred men +and women who had been recruited for the Koshchei colony had been +crammed into her with brutal disregard for comfort, privacy or +anything else except the ability of the air-recyclers to keep them +breathing. When Captain Nichols set her down at the administration +building at Port Carpenter, a few had had to be carried off, but they +were all alive, which made the trip an unqualified success. + +The dozen leaders of the expedition were congratulating themselves on +that in one of the executive offices after the first dinner at Port +Carpenter. Rodney Maxwell, in Storisende, had joined them in +screen-image; he was mostly listening, and sometimes contributing a +remark apropos of something the rest of them had said five minutes +ago. + +"Our hypership," Conn was saying, "is going to have to be item +two on the agenda. The first thing we need is a ship for the +Poictesme-Koshchei run. By this time next year, we ought to have a +thousand to fifteen hundred people here at the least. We can't haul +them all on that flying sardine can." + +"We'll need supplies, too. What was left here won't last forever," +Nichols added. + +"And you're going to have to run this at a profit," Luther Chen-Wong, +who had come along for first hand experience and to help with +administrative work, added. "You have a big payroll to meet, and +you'll have to keep the stockholders happy. People like Jethro +Sastraman and some of these Storisende bankers aren't going to be +satisfied with promises and long-term prospects; they'll want +dividends." + +"We'll have to get claims staked on something besides Port Carpenter, +too. Those ships that are building at Storisende will be finished +before long," Jerry Rivas said. "If we don't get some more things +claimed, the first thing you know, we'll own Port Carpenter and +nothing else." + +"Well, let's see what we can find in the way of a big airboat, or a +small ship," Conn said. "Jerry, you can pick a party for exploring. +Just zigzag around the planet and transmit in locations and views of +whatever you find, and we'll send it on to Storisende." + +"And don't pick anybody for your exploring party that can't be spared +from anything here," Jacquemont added. "We don't want to have to chase +you halfway around the world to bring back the only specialist in +something yesterday at the latest." + +"Are you going to come along, Conn?" Rivas asked. + +"Oh, Lord, no! I'm going to be doing fifteen things at once here." + +All the computer work. Finding materials to make astrogational +equipment and robo-pilots. Studying hyperspace theory--fortunately, +there was an excellent library here--and setting up classes, and +teaching school. And keeping in touch with his father, on Poictesme. +It was making him nervous not to know what sort of foolishness the +older and wiser heads might be getting into. + +The next morning, they began organizing work-gangs and setting up +committees. Three men, two girls and about twenty robots got an +open-pit iron mine started; as soon as the steel mill was ready, ore +started coming in. Anse Dawes had a gang looking for something they +could build a 350-foot interplanetary ship out of; Jacquemont and Mack +Vibart were getting plans and specifications and making lists of +needed materials. Conn gathered a dozen men and women and started +classes in computer theory and practice; at the same time, he and +Charley Gatworth were teaching themselves and each other hyperspatial +astrogation, which was the art of tossing a ship into some +everythingless noplace outside normal space-time, and then pulling her +out again by her bootstraps at some other place in the normal +continuum, light-years away. + +Roughly, it compared to shooting hummingbirds on the wing, +blindfolded, with a not particularly accurate pistol, from a +mile-a-minute merry-go-round. + +That was something you could only do with a computer. A human, with a +slide rule, a pencil and pad, could figure it out, of course--if he +had fifty-odd thousand years to do it. A good computer did it in +thirty seconds. That was one difference between people and computers. +The other difference was that the desirability of making a hyperspace +jump would never occur to a computer, unless somebody pushed a button +and taped in instructions. + +They found a three-hundred-foot globular skeleton, probably the +nucleus of a big hyperspace ship, and decided that was big enough for +what they wanted. The entire colony got to work on it. Photoprinted +plans and specifications poured out as Jacquemont and a couple of +draftsmen got them up. Steel came out of the steel mill at one end +while ore came in at the other. A swarm of big contragravity machines, +some robotic and some human-operated, clustered around the skeletal +hull like hornets building a nest. + +Trisystem & Interstellar Spacelines was chartered; the lawyers +reported having to overcome a little more resistance than usual from +the Government about that. And the bill to nationalize Merlin, which +had died in committee, was resuscitated and was being debated hotly on +the floor of Parliament. The Administration was now supporting it. + +"Are they completely crazy?" Conn wanted to know, when he heard about +that. "They pass that bill and nobody's going to look for Merlin if +they know the Government will snatch it as soon as they find it." + +"That is precisely Jake Vyckhoven's idea," his father replied. "I told +you he was afraid of Merlin. He's getting more afraid of it every +day." + +He had reason to. There was a growing sentiment in favor of turning +the entire Government over to the computer as soon as it was found. To +his horror, Conn heard himself named as chairman of a committee that +should be set up to operate it. The moderates, who had merely wanted +Merlin used in an advisory capacity, were dropping out; the agitation +was coming from extremists who wanted Merlin to be the whole +Government, and now the extremists were developing an extreme wing of +their own, who called themselves Cybernarchists and started wearing +colored-shirt uniforms and greeting each other with an archaic +stiff-arm salute, and the words, "Hail Merlin!" + +And the followers of the gospel-shouter on the west coast were now +cropping up all over the mainland, and on the continent of Acaire to +the north, and another cult, non-religious, was convinced that Merlin +was a living machine, with conscious intelligence of its own and +awesome psi-powers, a sort of super-Golem, which, if found and +awakened, would enslave the whole Galaxy. Fortunately, these two hated +each other as venomously as both did the Cybernarchists, and spent +most of their energies attacking each other's meetings. The +news-services were beginning to publish casualty lists, some heavy +enough for outpost fighting between a couple of regular armies. + +One thing, it helped the employment situation. Everybody was hiring +mercenaries. + +"But what," Conn asked, "are the sane people doing?" + +"You ought to know," his father told him. "I suspect that you have all +of them on Koshchei now." + +The sane people, if that was what they were, were being busy. They +were putting a set of Abbott lift-and-drive engines together, and +Conn's computer class was estimating the mass of the finished ship and +the amount of energy needed to overcome gravitation and give it +constant acceleration from Koshchei to Poictesme. They were learning, +by trial and error, largely error, how to build a set of pseudograv +engines. And they were putting together a hundred and one other +things, all of which was good training for the time they'd be ready to +start work on _Ouroboros II_. + +Jerry Rivas had found a contragravity craft which seemed to have been +used by some top official for business and inspection trips, had +gathered a crew of non-specialists who weren't urgently needed at Port +Carpenter, and set out to circumnavigate the planet. It worked just +the reverse of expectation. He found a big uranium mine, with an +isotope-separation plant and a battery of plutonium-breeders; that +meant that Mohammed Matsui and half a dozen other nuclear-power people +had to get into another boat and speed after him to see what he had +really found. As soon as they landed, Rivas took off again to discover +a copper mine and a complex of smelters and processing plants. That +took a few more experts, or reasonable facsimiles, away from Port +Carpenter. And then he found a whole city that manufactured nothing +but computers and robo-controls and things like that. + +Conn loaded his whole computer-theory class onto a freight-scow and +took them there. By the time he landed, his father was screening him +from Storisende. + +"When are you going to get the ship finished?" he was asking. "Kurt +Fawzi's pestering the daylights out of me. He wants that equipment you +promised him." + +"We're working on it. What's happened, has Carl Leibert had another +revelation?" + +"I don't know about that. Kurt's sure Merlin is directly under Force +Command. And speaking about Leibert, Klem Zareff's been after me about +him. You know I've contracted for the full-time and exclusive services +of this Barton-Massarra detective agency. Well, Klem wants me to put +them to work investigating Leibert." + +"Yes, I know; Leibert's a Terran Federation spy. Why do you need the +full-time services of the biggest private detective agency on +Poictesme?" + +"There have been some odd things happening. People have been trying to +bribe and intimidate some of my office help. I have found microphones +and screen-pickups planted around. I caught one of our clerks trying +to make copies of voice-tapes. I think it's some of these other +Merlin-chasing companies, trying to find out how close we are to it. +Klem Zareff is recruiting more guards. But how soon are you going to +get that ship built?" + +"We're working on it. That's all I know, now." + +He went back to work getting a classroom ready for his students. If +he'd accepted that instructorship at Montevideo, he wouldn't be a full +professor now, but none of the rest of this would be happening, +either. + +That night, he had the dream about starting the big machine and not +being able to stop it again. + +There was street-fighting in Storisende between the Cybernarchists and +Government troops. There was a pitched battle in the west between the +Armageddonists (Merlin-is-Satan) and the Human Supremacy League +(Merlin-is-the-Golem), with heavy losses and claims of victory on both +sides. President Vyckhoven proclaimed planet-wide martial law, and +then discovered that he had nothing to enforce it with. + +Luther Chen-Wong screened him from Port Carpenter. His voice was +almost inaudibly low at first. + +"Conn, I just had a call from Jerry and Clyde. I think we can knock +off work on that ship we're building now. We won't need it." + +"Have they found a ship?" If they had, it would be the first one +anybody had found. "Where?" + +"They haven't found _a_ ship, Conn; they've found all of them. All the +ships in the Alpha System except the _Harriet Barne_ and the two +they're building at Storisende. The place is marked on the map as +Sickle Mountain Naval Observatory. It's just a bitty little dot, but +the map was made before the evacuation started. It's where most of the +troops in the system were embarked on hyperships, I think. Wait till I +show you the views." + +Conn put on another screen; the first view was from an altitude of +five miles. He didn't need Luther's voice to identify Sickle Mountain; +a long curve, with a spur at right angles to one end, the name must +have suggested itself to whoever saw it first. The observatory had +been built where the handle of the sickle joined the blade; as the +ship from which the view had been taken had approached, the details +grew plainer. At the same time, it became evident that the plain +inside the curve of the sickle was powdered with tiny sparkles, like +tinsel dust on red-brown velvet. + +"Great Ghu, are those all ships?" + +"That's right. Look at this one, now." + +The view changed. The aircraft was down, now, below the crest of the +mountain, circling slowly above the plain. Hundreds, no, over a +thousand, of them; two- and three-and five-hundred-footers, and here +and there a thousand-footer that could have been converted into a +hypership if anybody had wanted to take the trouble. The view changed +again; this time from an aircar dropped from the ship, he supposed; it +was down almost to the tops of the ships, and he could read names and +home ports: _Pixie_, Chloris; _Helen O'Loy_, Anaitis. They were from +Jurgen. _Sky-Rover_, Port Saunders; she was from Horvendile. Ships +from Storisende, and Yellowmarsh on Janicot, and.... + +"Now we know where they all went." + +It was logical, of course. Most of the hyperships used in the +evacuation had been built here. It had been less trouble to lead the +troops and the civilian workers from Poictesme and the other planets +onto small normal-space ships and bring them here than to take the big +ships away on short interplanetary runs to the other planets. + +"Have you screened my father yet?" + +"Yes. This is going to knock the bottom out of the companies that are +building those ships at Storisende, I'm afraid." + +"Their tough luck." + +"It could be everybody's tough luck. Both those companies have been +issuing stock, and there's been a lot of speculation in it. This +market's so inflated now that a puncture at one place might blow the +whole thing out." + +He knew that. He shrugged. "Father will have to think of something. +Tell him I'll screen him from Sickle Mountain." + +Then he went back to his classroom. + +"All right, class dismissed," he said. "You have twenty minutes to get +your bags packed. We're going to work for real, now." + +Airboats and airships flocked to Sickle Mountain; some of them +hastened back to Port Carpenter for loads of food, for there was none +in the storehouses at the embarkation camp. They inspected ship after +ship, and chose two three-hundred-footers. They sent airships and +freight-scows to the dozen-odd cities and industrial centers that had +been already explored, to gather cargo, as far as possible the items +in shortest supply on Poictesme. + +"Don't worry about a market smash," his father told him. "We have that +taken care of. Trisystem Investments has just bought up a lot of stock +in both of those companies, and we've set up agreements with +them--informally, of course; we'll have to get them voted on by our +own companies--to sell them ships from Koshchei. In return, the +company that's building the ship out of four air-freighters will go to +Janicot, and the company that's building a ship out of the old +Leitzenring Building will go to Jurgen, and they'll both stay off +Koshchei. Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong will probably be defending +antitrust suits till the end of time. The Planetary Government has +stopped liking us, you know." + +"Then we'll have to get one that will like us. There'll be an election +about this time next year, won't there?" + +His father nodded. "To use one of your expressions, we're working on +it. How soon can you get your ships in?" + +"Well be loaded and ready to lift off in a week. Another week for the +trip." + +"Well, don't forget that equipment you promised Kurt Fawzi." + +"We'll have that on. Jerry Rivas is gathering it up now." + +"How are you fixed for arms on Koshchei?" + +"Arms? Why, there are some. There was a pretty big force of Space +Marines on duty here, and they left everything they couldn't carry in +their hands. Why? The Armageddonists and the Cybernarchists and Human +Supremacy bought all you had on hand?" + +"They're buying, but I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking that +your crews might need something to argue their way off the ships at +Storisende with. Things are getting just slightly rugged here, now." + + + + +XVII + + +There were no bands or speeches when they came in this time. A lot of +contragravity vehicles circled widely around the spaceport, but except +for a few news-service cars, the police were keeping them back of a +two-mile radius around the landing-pits. A couple of gunboats were +making tight circles above, and on the dock were more vehicles and a +horde of police and guards. + +When Rodney Maxwell came across the bridge from the dock after they +opened the airlocks, he was followed by a dozen Barton-Massarra +private police, as villainous-looking a collection of ruffians as Conn +had ever seen. He was wearing a new suit, with a waist-length jacket +instead of the long coat he usually wore, and there was a holstered +automatic on each hip. In Litchfield, he never carried more than one +pistol, and Storisende was supposed to be an orderly place where +nobody needed to go armed. More than anything else, that told Conn +approximately what had been going on while he had been on Koshchei. + +"Ship-guard," his father told Yves Jacquemont. "All your crew can come +off; they'll take care of things. Get your people in that troop +carrier over there. Everybody will stay at Interplanetary Building. +None of the hotels are safe, not even the Ritz-Gartner. And be sure +everybody's well armed when they come off the ship." + +Jacquemont nodded. "I know the drill; I've been in Port Oberth on +Venus and Skorvann on Loki. Any law we want, we make for ourselves." + +"That's about it. I'll see you there. Conn, I wish you'd come with me. +Somebody here wants to talk to you." + +He wondered if his mother, or Flora, had come to Storisende. When he +asked his father as they crossed onto the dock, there was a brief +twinge of pain in Rodney Maxwell's face. + +"No, they're not having anything to do--_Duck; quick!_" + +Then his father was diving under a lifter-truck that stood empty on +the dock. The private police were scattering for cover, and an +auto-cannon began pom-pomming. Conn took one quick look in the +direction in which it was firing, saw an aircar that had broken +through the police line and was rushing toward them, and dived under +the lifter after his father. As he did, he saw a missile flash out +from one of the gunboats like a thrown knife. Then he huddled beside +his father and put his arms over his head. + +He felt the heat and shock of the explosion and, an instant later, +heard the roar. When nothing immediately disastrous happened after he +had counted fifteen seconds, he stuck his head out and looked up. The +gunboat was struggling to regain her equilibrium, and the aircar had +vanished in a fireball. They both emerged, straightening. His father +was brushing himself with his hands and saying something about always +having to duck under something when he had a new suit on. + +"Robot control, probably; could have been launched from anywhere in +town. Why, no; your mother and Flora aren't speaking to either of us, +any more. Pity, of course, but I'm glad they're in Litchfield. It's a +little healthier there." + +They walked to the slim recon-car and climbed in, pulling the door +shut after them. Wade Lucas was waiting for them at the controls. + +"There, you see!" he began, as soon as he had the car lifting. "What +I've been telling you. We'll have to stop this." + +"Conn, meet our new partner. I told him everything you told me, out on +the Mall, the day you came home. I had to," his father hastened to +add. "He'd figured most of it out for himself. The only thing to do +was admit him to the lodge and give him the oath." + +"I didn't know about General Travis; I didn't even know he was still +alive," Lucas said. "But the rest of it was pretty obvious, once I +stopped jumping to conclusions and did a little thinking. You know, +ever since I came here I've been preaching to these people to stop +looking for Merlin and do something to help themselves. You're smarter +than I am, Conn; instead of opposing them, you're guiding them." + +"Did you tell Flora?" + +Lucas shook his head. "I tried to explain what you're trying to do, +but she wouldn't listen. She just told me I'd gotten to be as big a +crook as you two." He had the car up to fifty thousand; putting it +into a wide circle around the city, he locked the controls and got out +his cigarettes. "Rod, we've got to stop this. You were just lucky this +time. Some of these days your luck's going to run out." + +"How can we stop?" Conn demanded. "Tell them the truth? They'd lynch +us, and then go on hunting for Merlin." + +"Worse than that; it'd be a smash worse than the one when the War +ended. I was only ten then, but I can remember that very plainly. We +can't stop it, and we wouldn't dare stop it if we could." + +"What's been going on here in the last month?" Conn asked. "I've been +too busy to keep in touch. I know there's been rioting, and these +crackpot sects, but...." + +"I think this is personal to us. There have been some ugly things +happening. There were four attempts to burglarize our offices. I told +you about some of the other stuff, the microphones we found, and so +on. The worst thing was Lucy Nocero, my secretary. She just vanished, +a couple of weeks ago. Three days later, the police found her +wandering in a park, a complete imbecile. Somebody who either didn't +know how to use one or didn't care what happened had used a mind-probe +on her. It's twenty to one she'll never recover." + +"It's this Storisende financial crowd," Wade Lucas said. "They had +things all their own way till Alpha-Interplanetary was organized. Now +they're getting shoved into the background, and they don't like it." + +"They're making more money than they ever did, and they just love it," +Rodney Maxwell said. "I'd think it was either Jake Vyckhoven or Sam +Murchison." + +"Murchison!" Lucas hooted. "Why, he's nobody! Federation +Minister-General; all the authority of the Terran Federation, and +nothing to enforce it with. He doesn't have a position, here; he has a +disease. Sleeping sickness." + +"He certainly doesn't believe there is a Merlin, does he?" Conn asked. + +"I don't know what he believes, but he's getting to be Klem Zareff's +opposite number. He thinks this whole thing's a plot against the +Federation. It's a good thing Klem didn't get around to repainting his +combat vehicles black and green, the way he did the Home Guard stuff +at Litchfield." + +"I'd be more likely to think it was Vyckhoven." + +"Could be. Or it could be the Armageddonists, or Human Supremacy; I am +ashamed to say that this heil-Merlin Cybernarchist gang are friendly +to us. Or it could be some of the banking crowd, or some of these +rival space-companies. Barton-Massarra is trying to find out. Well, we +have some of Wade's pet suspects at Interplanetary Building now. +There's been a meeting going for the last week to partition the Alpha +Gartner System." + +The Interplanetary Building had been a medium-class residence hotel at +the time of the War. Junior staff officers and civilian technicians +and their families had lived there. It had been vacant ever since the +disastrous outbreak of peace. Now it had a big new fluorolite sign, +and housed the offices of all the Maxwell companies. There was a +truculent display of anti-vehicle weapons on the top landing stage, +and more Barton-Massarra private police. They looked even more +villainous then the ones at the spaceport. Conn recalled having heard +that most of the Blackie Perales gang had been discharged for lack of +evidence; he wondered how many of them had hired with Barton-Massarra. + +The meeting was in a big conference room six floors down; it had been +going on uninterrupted for days, with all the interested companies' +representatives standing watch-and-watch around the clock. Lester +Dawes and Morgan Gatworth and Lorenzo Menardes were there for L. E. & +S.; Transcontinent & Overseas was represented; there were people from +Alpha-Interplanetary, and bankers and financiers, and people from the +companies building the two ships at the spaceport. And J. Fitzwilliam +Sterber, the lawyer. + +And reporters, phoning stories in and getting audiovisual interviews +of anybody who would hold still long enough. They converged in a rush +as Conn and his father and Lucas came in. + +"No statement, gentlemen!" Rodney Maxwell shouted, above the babble of +their questions. "When we have anything to release, it will be +released to all of you." + +Jacquemont and Nichols had already arrived; Lucas went to them and +began talking about stevedores and lifters to get off the cargoes from +the ships. Conn hastened to join them. + +"The scanning and mining equipment aboard the _Helen O'Loy_," he said. +"That shouldn't be unloaded here; we'll take the ship out to Force +Command and unload it there." + +Out of the corner of his eye, he saw, a lurking reporter snatch the +handphone off his radio and begin talking; it would be stated +authoritatively that Merlin was at Force Command and would be +uncovered as soon as special equipment from Koshchei arrived. + +Everybody at the long table was shouting at everybody else. The Jurgen +and Janicot Companies wanted to buy ships from Koshchei Exploitation & +Development. The Alpha-Interplanetary director, who was also a +vice-president of Transcontinent & Overseas, opposed that; another +director of A-I, who was also board chairman of Koshchei Exploitation +& Development, wanted to sell ships to anybody who had the price, the +Transcontinent & Overseas man was calling him a traitor to the +company, and one of the stockbrokers, who was also a vice-president of +Trisystem Investments and a director of Trisystem & Interstellar +Spacelines, was wanting to know which company. And a banker who was +stockholder in all the companies was shouting that they were all a +gang of crooks, and J. Fitzwilliam Sterber was declaring that anybody +who called him a crook could continue the discussion through seconds. + +Conn suddenly realized that dueling had never been illegal on +Poictesme. He wondered how many duels this meeting was going to hatch. + +The next afternoon the _Helen O'Loy_ was unloaded, all but the mining +equipment; Conn and Yves Jacquemont and Charley Gatworth and a few +others took her out to Force Command. They were met by Klem Zareff's +armed airboats two hundred and fifty miles from the mesa, and they +found the place in more of a state of siege than when the Badlands had +been full of outlaws. A lot of heavy armament seemed to have been +moved in from Barathrum Spaceport, and Zareff had more men and +firepower than he had ever commanded during the System States War. If +Minister-General Murchison was convinced that the Merlin excitement +was a cover for some seditious plot against the Federation, this ought +to give him food for thought. + +There was still work, mostly boring lateral shafts for echo shots, +going on at the butte, under the relay station. That was Leibert, who +was still insisting that that was where Merlin was buried. There was +also some work on top of the mesa, by those who were convinced that +that was where Merlin was to be found. Kurt Fawzi was taking the lead +in that. Franz Veltrin and Dolf Kellton sided with Leibert, and +Fawzi's office clique had split into two factions. Judge Ledue was +maintaining strict impartiality, as befitted his judicial position. + +"Why hasn't your father gotten those detectives of his to work on this +fake preacher?" Zareff wanted to know, when he and Tom Brangwyn were +able to talk to Conn alone. + +"Well, they've been busy," Conn said. "Trying to keep him alive, for +one thing. You heard about the robo-bomb somebody launched at us the +day we brought the ships in, didn't you?" + +"Yes, and we heard about the Nocero girl, too," Brangwyn said. "But +hasn't it ever occurred to you or your dad that this fellow that calls +himself Leibert might be mixed up with the gang that did that?" + +"You suspect him, too?" + +Brangwyn nodded. "I took a few audiovisuals of him, when he didn't +know it; I sent them to some different law-enforcement people over in +Morven, where he says he comes from. They never saw him before, and +couldn't find anybody who did." + +"Well? He just doesn't have a police record, then." + +"He says he's a preacher. Preachers don't go off in the woods by +themselves to preach; they get up in pulpits, in front of a lot of +people. Those towns over in Morven are small enough for everybody to +have known something about him. He's a fake, I tell you." + +"Let me have copies of those audiovisuals, Tom. I'll see what can be +found out about him. I'm beginning to wonder about him myself. I'm +sure I've seen him, somewhere...." + +When he got back to Storisende, he found that the marathon conference +on the sixth floor down at the Interplanetary Building had finally +come to an end. Everybody seemed satisfied, and apparently nobody was +going to have pistols and coffee with anybody else about it. + +"We have things fixed up," his father told him. "The gang who are +building the ship out of four air-freighters are chartered as Janicot +Industries, Ltd.; they're going to specialize in chemical products. +The other company has a charter now, too. They're going to operate on +Jurgen and Horvendile. We'll sell them ships, and Alpha-Interplanetary +will put on scheduled trips to all three planets and also Koshchei. +We're getting along very nicely with them, except that everybody's +competing for technicians and skilled labor. We have two hundred more +people signed up for Koshchei. What you want to do is train as many of +them as you can for ship-operation. Alpha-Interplanetary is going to +start a training program here at Storisende; you'd better leave one of +your ships for them to work on, and send back as many ships as you can +find officers and crews for." + +"We're getting things really started." + +"Yes. The only trouble is...." His father frowned. "I don't understand +these people, Conn. Everybody ought to be making millions out of this +by this time next year, but all any of them, even these Storisende +bankers, can talk about is how soon we're going to find Merlin." + +"I wish we could stop that, somehow. Listen; I have it. Merlin never +was on Poictesme; Merlin was a space-station a few thousand miles +off-planet; there was a crew of operators aboard, and they +communicated with Force Command by radio. When the War ended, they +took it outside the system and shot off a planetbuster inside her. No +more Merlin. How would that be?" + +His father shook his head. "Wouldn't do. If anybody believed it, which +I doubt, they'd just quit. The market would collapse, everybody would +be broke, it would just be the end of the War all over again. Conn, we +can't let it stop now. We're going too fast to stop; if we tried it, +we'd smash up and break our necks." + + + + +XVIII + + +Jerry Rivas, Mack Vibart and Luther Chen-Wong had been keeping things +running on Koshchei. Work on the interplanetary ship at Port +Carpenter had stopped when the Sickle Mountain ships had been found; +it had never been resumed. When Conn returned, he found work started +on the _Ouroboros II_. Some of the two hundred newcomers who came in +on the _Helen O'Loy_ had special skills needed on the hypership; most +of them went with Clyde Nichols and Charley Gatworth to Sickle +Mountain to train as normal-space officers and crewmen. Some of them, +it was hoped, would later qualify for hyperspace work. Sylvie, who had +been one of the star pupils in the computer class, was now helping him +with the long lists of needed materials, some of which had to be +brought from other places as much as a thousand miles away. Jerry +Rivas went back to exploring; Nichols had to drop his space-training +work temporarily to organize a fleet of air-freighters; usually, the +men best able to operate them were urgently needed on some job at the +construction dock. + +Ships lifted out almost daily from Sickle Mountain. They tried to get +some kind of salable cargo for each one, without depriving themselves +of what they needed for themselves. Some of the ships came back loaded +with provisions and bringing new recruits--for instance, the teaching +of physics and mathematics almost stopped at Storisende College +because the professors had been virtually shanghaied. + +Conn found himself losing touch with affairs on Poictesme. Ships had +landed on both Janicot and Horvendile and were sending back claims to +abandoned factories. By that time they had all the decks into the +_Ouroboros II_, and he was working aboard, getting the astrogational +and hyperspace instruments put in place. The hypership _Andromeda_ was +back from the Gamma System; there was close secrecy about what the +expedition had found, but the newscasts were full of conjectures about +Merlin, and the market went into another dizzy upward spiral. +Litchfield Exploration & Salvage opened a huge munitions depot, and +combat equipment, once almost unsalable, was selling as fast as it +came out. The Government was buying some, but by no means all of it. + +"Conn, can you come back here to Poictesme for a while?" his father +asked. "Things have turned serious. I don't like to talk about it by +screen--too many people know our scrambler combinations. But I wish +you were here." + +He started to object; there were millions, well, a couple of hundred, +things he had to attend to. The look on his father's face stopped him. + +"Ship leaving Sickle Mountain tomorrow morning," he said. "I'll be +aboard." + +The voyage back to Poictesme was a needed rest. He felt refreshed when +he got off at Storisende Spaceport and was met by his father and Wade +Lucas in one of the slim recon-cars. They greeted him briefly and took +the car up and away from the city, where it was safe to talk. + +"Conn, I'm scared," his father said. "I'm beginning to think there +really is a Merlin, after all." + +"Oh, come off it! I know it's contagious, but I thought you'd been +vaccinated." + +"I'm beginning to think so, too," Lucas said. "I don't like it at +all." + +"You know what that gang who took the _Andromeda_ to Panurge found?" + +"They were looking for the plant that fabricated the elements for +Merlin, weren't they?" + +"Yes. They found it. My Barton-Massarra operatives got to some of the +crew. This place had been turning out material for a computer of +absolutely unconventional design; the two computermen they had with +them couldn't make head or tail of half of it. And every blueprint, +every diagram, every scrap of writing or recording, had been +destroyed. But they found one thing, a big empty fiber folder that had +fallen under something and been overlooked. It was marked: TOP +SECRET. PROJECT MERLIN." + +"Project Merlin could have been anything," Conn started to say. No. +Project Merlin was something they made computer parts for. + +"Dolf Kellton's research crew, at the Library here, came across some +references to Project Merlin, too. For instance, there was a routine +division court-martial, a couple of second lieutenants, on a very +trivial charge. Force Command ordered the court-martial stopped, and +the two officers simply dropped out of the Third Force records, it was +stated that they were engaged in work connected with Project Merlin. +That's an example; there were half a dozen things like that." + +"Tell him what Kurt Fawzi and his crew found," Wade Lucas said. + +"Yes. They have a fifty-foot shaft down from the top of the mesa +almost to the top of the underground headquarters. They found +something on top of the headquarters; a disc-shaped mass, fifty feet +thick and a hundred across, armored in collapsium. It's directly over +what used to be Foxx Travis's office." + +"That's not a tenth big enough for anything that could even resemble +Merlin." + +"Well, it's something. I was out there day before yesterday. They're +down to the collapsium on top of this thing; I rode down the shaft in +a jeep and looked at it. Look, Conn, we don't know what this Project +Merlin was; all this lore about Merlin that's grown up since the War +is pure supposition." + +"But Foxx Travis told me, categorically, that there was no Merlin +Project," Conn said. "The War's been over forty years; it's not a +military secret any longer. Why would he lie to me?" + +"Why did you lie to Kurt Fawzi and the others and tell them there was +a Merlin? You lied because telling the truth would hurt them. Maybe +Travis had the same reason for lying to you. Maybe Merlin's too +dangerous for anybody to be allowed to find." + +"Great Ghu, are you beginning to think Merlin is the Devil, or +Frankenstein's Monster?" + +"It might be something just as bad. Maybe worse. I don't think a man +like Foxx Travis would lie if he didn't have some overriding moral +obligation to." + +"And we know who's been making most of the trouble for us, too," Lucas +added. + +"Yes," Rodney Maxwell said, "we do. And sometime I'm going to invite +Klem Zareff to kick my pants-seat. Sam Murchison, the Terran +Federation Minister-General." + +"How'd you get that?" + +"Barton-Massarra got some of it; they have an operative planted in +Murchison's office. And some of our banking friends got the rest. This +Human Supremacy League is being financed by somebody. Every so often, +their treasurer makes a big deposit at one of the banks here, all +Federation currency, big denomination notes. When I asked them to, +they started keeping a record of the serial numbers and checking +withdrawals. The money was paid out, at the First Planetary Bank, to +Mr. Samuel S. Murchison, in person. The Armegeddonists are getting +money, too, but they're too foxy to put theirs through the banks. I +believe they're the ones who mind-probed Lucy Nocero. Barton-Massarra +believe, but they can't prove, that Human Supremacy launched that +robo-bomb at us, that time at the spaceport." + +"Have you done anything with those audiovisuals of Leibert?" + +"Gave them to Barton-Massarra. They haven't gotten anything, yet." + +"So we have to admit that Klem wasn't crazy after all. What do you +want me to do?" + +"Go out to Force Command and take charge. We have to assume that there +may be a Merlin, we have to assume that it may be dangerous, and we +have to assume that Kurt Fawzi and his covey of Merlinolators are just +before digging it up. Your job is to see that whatever it is doesn't +get loose." + +The trouble was, if he started giving orders around Force Command he'd +stop being a brilliant young man and become a half-baked kid, and one +word from him and the older and wiser heads would do just what they +pleased. He wondered if the pro-Leibert and anti-Leibert factions were +still squabbling; maybe if he went out of his way to antagonize one +side, he'd make allies of the other. He took the precaution of +screening in, first; Kurt Fawzi, with whom he talked, was almost +incoherent with excitement. At least, he was reasonably sure that none +of Klem Zareff's trigger-happy mercenaries would shoot him down coming +in. + +The well, fifty feet in diameter, went straight down from the top of +the mesa; as the headquarters had been buried under loose rubble, +they'd had to vitrify the sides going down. He let down into the hole +in a jeep, and stood on the collapsium roof of whatever it was they +had found. It wasn't the top of the headquarters itself; the microray +scannings showed that. It was a drum-shaped superstructure, a sort of +underground penthouse. And there they were stopped. You didn't cut +collapsium with a cold chisel, or even an atomic torch. He began to +see how he was going to be able to take charge here. + +"You haven't found any passage leading into it?" he asked, when they +were gathered in Fawzi's--formerly Foxx Travis's--office. + +"Nifflheim, no! If we had, we'd be inside now." Tom Brangwyn swore. +"And we've been all over the ceiling in here, and we can't find +anything but vitrified rock and then the collapsium shielding." + +"Sure. There are collapsium-cutters, at Port Carpenter, on Koshchei. +They do it with cosmic rays." + +"But collapsium will stop cosmic rays," Zareff objected. + +"Stop them from penetrating, yes. A collapsium-cutter doesn't +penetrate; it abrades. Throws out a rotary beam and works like a +grinding-wheel, or a buzz-saw." + +"Well, could you get one down that hole?" Judge Ledue asked. + +He laughed. "No. The thing is rather too large. In the first place, +there's a full-sized power-reactor, and a mass-energy converter. With +them, you produce negamatter--atoms with negatively charged protons +and positive electrons, positrons. Then, you have to bring them into +contact with normal positive-matte--That's done in a chamber the size +of a fifty-gallon barrel, made of collapsium and weighing about a +hundred tons. Then you have to have a pseudograv field to impart +rotary motion to your cosmic-ray beam, and the generator door that +would lift ten ships the size of the _Lester Dawes_. Then you need +another fifty to a hundred tons of collapsium to shield your +cutting-head. The cutting-head alone weighs three tons. The rotary +beam that does the cutting," he mentioned as an afterthought, "is +about the size of a silver five-centisol piece." + +Nobody said anything for a few seconds. Carl Leibert stated that +Divine Power would aid them. Nobody paid much attention; Leibert's +stock seemed to have gone bearish since he had found nothing in the +butte and Fawzi had found that whatever-it-was on top of Force +Command. + +"Means we're going to dig the whole blasted top off, clear down to +where that thing is," Zareff said. "That'll take a year." + +"Oh, no. Maybe a couple of weeks, after we get started," Conn told +them. "It'll take longer to get the stuff loaded on a ship and hauled +here than it will to get that thing uncovered and opened." + +He told them about the machines they used in the iron mines on +Koshchei, and as he talked, he stopped worrying about how he was going +to take charge here. He had just been unanimously elected +Indispensable Man. + +"Bless you, young man!" Carl Leibert cried. "At last, the Great +Computer! Those who come after will reckon this the Year Zero of the +Age of Regeneration. I will go to my chamber and return thanks in +prayer." + +"He's been doing a lot of praying lately," Tom Brangwyn remarked, +after Leibert had gone out. "He's moved into the chaplain's quarters, +back of the pandenominational chapel on the fourth level down. Always +keeps his door locked, too." + +"Well, if he wants privacy for his devotions, that's his business. +Maybe we could all do with a little prayer," Veltrin said. + +"Probably praying to Sam Murchison by radio," Klem Zareff retorted. +"I'd like to see inside those rooms of his." + +He called Yves Jacquemont at Port Carpenter after dinner. When he told +Jacquemont what he wanted and why, the engineer remarked that it was a +pity screens couldn't be fitted with olfactory sensors, so that he +could smell Conn's breath. + +"I am not drunk. I am not crazy. And I am not exercising my sense of +humor. I don't know what Fawzi and his gang have here, but if it isn't +Merlin it's something just as hot. We want at it, soonest, and we'll +have to dig a couple of hundred feet of rock off it and open a +collapsium can." + +"How are we going to get that stuff on a ship?" + +"Anything been done to that normal-space job we started since I saw it +last? Can you find engines for it? And is there anything about those +mining machines or the cutter that would be damaged by space-radiation +or re-entry heat?" + +Yves Jacquemont was silent for a good deal longer than the +interplanetary time-lag warranted. Finally he nodded. + +"I get it, Conn. We won't put the things in a ship; we'll build a ship +around them. No; that stuff can all be hauled open to space. They use +things like that at space stations and on asteroids and all sorts of +places. We'll have to stop work on _Ouroboros_, though." + +"Let _Ouroboros_ wait. We are going to dig up Merlin, and then +everybody is going to be rich and happy, and live happily forever +after." + +Jacquemont looked at him, silent again for longer than the usual five +and a half minutes. + +"You almost said that with a straight face." After all, Jacquemont +hadn't been cleared yet for the Awful Truth About Merlin, but, like +his daughter, he'd been doing some guessing. "I wish I knew how much +of this Merlin stuff you believe." + +"So do I, Yves. Maybe after we get this thing open, I'll know." + +To give himself a margin of safety, Jacquemont had estimated the +arrival of the equipment at three weeks. A week later, he was +on-screen to report that the skeleton ship--they had christened her +_The Thing_, and when Conn saw screen views of her he understood +why--was finished and the collapsium-cutter and two big mining +machines were aboard. Evidently nobody on Koshchei had done a stroke +of work on anything else. + +"Sylvie's coming along with her; so are Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes and +Ham Matsui and Gomez and Karanja and four or five others. They'll be +ready to go to work as soon as she lands and unloads," Jacquemont +added. + +That was good; they were all his own people, unconnected with any of +the Merlin-hunting factions at Force Command. In case trouble started, +he could rely on them. + +"Well, dig out some shootin'-irons for them," he advised. "They may +need them here." + +Depending, of course, on what they found when they opened that +collapsium can on top of Force Command, and how the people there +reacted to it. + +_The Thing_ took a hundred and seventy hours to make the trip; +conditions in the small shielded living quarters and control cabin +were apparently worse than on the _Harriet Barne_ on her second trip +to Koschchei. Everybody at Force Command was anxious and excited. Carl +Leibert kept to his quarters most of the time, as though he had to +pray the ship across space. + +At the same time, reports of the near completion of _Ouroboros II_ +were monopolizing the newscasts, to distract public attention from +what was happening at Force Command. Cargo was being collected for +her; instead of washing their feet in brandy, next year people would +be drinking water. Lorenzo Menardes had emptied his warehouses of +everything over a year old; so had most of the other distillers up and +down the Gordon Valley. Melon and tobacco planters were talking about +breaking new ground and increasing their cultivated acreage for the +next year. Agricultural machinery was in demand and bringing high +prices. So were stills, and tobacco-factory machinery. It began to +look as though the Maxwell Plan was really getting started. + +It was decided to send the hypership to Baldur on her first voyage; +that was Wade Lucas's suggestion. He was going with her himself, to +recruit scientific and technical graduates from his alma mater, the +University of Paris-on-Baldur, and from the other schools there. Conn +was enthusiastic about that, remembering the so-called engineers on +Koshchei, running around with a monkey-wrench in one hand and a +textbook in the other, trying to find out what they were supposed to +do while they were doing it. Poictesme had been living for too long on +the leavings of wartime production; too few people had bothered +learning how to produce anything. + +_The Thing_ finally settled onto the mesa-top. It looked like +something from an old picture of the construction work on one of the +Terran space-stations in the First Century. Immediately, every piece +of contragravity equipment in the place converged on her; men dangled +on safety lines hundreds of feet above the ground, cutting away beams +and braces with torches. The two giant mining machines, one after the +other, floated free on their own contragravity and settled into place. +_The Thing_ lifted, still carrying the collapsium-cutting equipment, +and came to rest on the brush-grown flat beyond, out of the way. + +If Yves Jacquemont had overestimated the time required to get the +equipment loaded and lifted off from Koshchei, Conn had been +overoptimistic about the speed with which the top of the mesa could be +stripped off. Digging away the rubble with which the pit had been +filled, and even the solid rock around it, was easier than getting the +stuff out of the way. Farm-scows came in from all over, as fast as +they and pilots for them could be found; the rush to get brandy and +tobacco to Storisende had caused an acute shortage of vehicles. + +One by one, the members of the old Fawzi's Office gang came drifting +in--Lorenzo Menardes, Morgan Gatworth, Lester Dawes. None of them had +any skills to contribute, but they brought plenty of enthusiasm. +Rodney Maxwell came whizzing out from Storisende now and then to watch +the progress of the work. Of all the crowd, he and Conn watched the +two steel giants strip away the tableland with apprehension instead of +hope. No, there was a third. Carl Leibert had stopped secluding +himself in his quarters; he still talked rapturously about the +miracles Merlin would work, but now and then Conn saw him when he +thought he was unobserved. His face was the face of a condemned man. + +The _Ouroboros II_ was finished. The whole planet saw, by +screen, the ship lift out; watched from the ship the dwindling away +of Koshchei and saw Poictesme grow ahead of her. Twelve hours before +she landed, work at Force Command stopped. Everybody was going to +Storisende--Sylvie, whose father would command her on her voyage to +Baldur, Morgan Gatworth, whose son would be first officer and +astrogator, everybody. Except Carl Leibert. + +"Then I'm not going either," Klem Zareff decided. "Somebody's got to +stay here and keep an eye on that snake." + +"No, nor me," Tom Brangwyn said. "And if he starts praying again, I'm +going to go and pray along with him." + +Conn stayed, too, and so did Jerry Rivas and Anse Dawes. They watched +the newscast of the lift-out, a week later. It was peaceful and +harmonious; everybody, regardless of their attitudes on Merlin, seemed +agreed that this was the beginning of a new prosperity for the planet. +There were speeches. The bands played "Genji Gartner's Body," and the +"Spaceman's Hymn." + +And, at the last, when the officers and crew were going aboard, Conn +saw his sister Flora clinging to Wade Lucas's arm. She was one of the +small party who went aboard for a final farewell. When she came off, +along with Sylvie, she was wiping her eyes, and Sylvie was comforting +her. Seeing that made Conn feel better even than watching the ship +itself lift away from Storisende. + + + + +XIX + + +When Sylvie returned from Storisende, she had Flora with her. Conn's +sister greeted him embarrassedly; Sylvie led both of them out of the +crowd and over to the edge of the excavation. + +"Go ahead, Flora," she urged. "Make up with Conn. It won't be any +harder than making up with Wade was." + +"How did that happen, by the way?" Conn asked. + +"Your girlfriend," Flora said. "She came to the house and practically +forced me into a car and flew me into Storisende, and then made me +keep quiet and listen while Wade told me the truth." + +"I wasn't completely sure what the truth was myself till Wade opened +up," Sylvie admitted. "I had a pretty good idea, though." + +"I always hated that Merlin thing," Flora burst out. "All those old +men in Fawzi's office, dreaming about the wonderful things Merlin was +going to do, with everything crumbling around them and everybody +getting poorer every year, and doing nothing, nothing! And when you +were coming home, I was expecting you to tell them there was no Merlin +and to go to work and do something for themselves. But you didn't, and +I couldn't see what you were trying to do. And then when Wade joined +you and Father, I thought he was either helping you put over some kind +of a swindle or else he'd started believing in Merlin himself. I +should have seen what you were trying to do from the beginning. At +least, from when you talked them into cleaning the town up and fixing +the escalators and getting the fountains going again." + +So the fountains weren't dusty any more. + +"How's Mother taking things now?" + +Flora looked distressed. "She goes around wringing her hands. +Honestly. I never saw anybody doing that outside a soap opera. Half +the time she thinks you and Father are a pair of unprincipled +scoundrels, and the other half she thinks you're going to let Merlin +destroy the world." + +"I'm beginning to be afraid of something like that myself." + +"Huh? But Merlin's just a big fake, isn't it? You're using it to make +these people do something they wouldn't do for themselves, aren't +you?" + +"It started that way. What do you think all this is about?" he asked, +gesturing toward the excavation and the two giant mining machines +digging and blasting and pounding away at the rock. + +"Well, to keep Kurt Fawzi and that crowd happy, I suppose. It seems +like an awful waste of time, though." + +"I'm afraid it isn't. I'm afraid Merlin, or something just as bad, is +down there. That's why I'm here, instead of on Koshchei. I want to +keep people like Fawzi from doing anything foolish with it when they +find it." + +"But there _can't_ be a Merlin!" + +"I'm afraid there is. Not the sort of a Merlin Fawzi expects to find; +that thing's too small for that. But there's something down there...." + +The question of size bothered him. That drum-shaped superstructure +couldn't even hold the personnel-record machine they had found here, +or the computers at the Storisende Stock Exchange. It could have been +an intelligence-evaluator, or an enemy-intentions predictor, but it +seemed small even for that. It would be something _like_ a computer; +that was as far as he was able to go. And it could be something +completely outside the reach of his imagination. + +At the back of his mind, the suspicion grew that Carl Leibert knew +exactly what it was. And he became more and more convinced that he had +seen the self-styled preacher before. + +Finally, the whole top of the hundred-foot collapsium-covered +structure was uncovered, and the excavation had been leveled out wide +enough to accommodate all the massive paraphernalia of the +collapsium-cutter. They put _The Thing_ onto contragravity again, and +brought her down in place; the work of lifting off the reactor and the +converter and the rest of it, piece by piece, began. Finally, +everything was set up. + +A dozen and a half of them were gathered in the room that had become +their meeting-place, after dinner. They were all too tired to start +the cutting that night, and at the same time excited and anxious. They +talked in disconnected snatches, and then somebody put on one of the +telecast screens. A music program was just ending; there was a brief +silence, and then a commentator appeared, identifying his +news-service. He spoke rapidly and breathlessly, his professional +gravity cracking all over. + +"The hypership _City of Asgard_, from Aton, has just come into +telecast range," he began. "We have received an exclusive Interworld +News Service story, recently brought to Aton on the Pan-Federation +Spacelines ship _Magellanic_, from Terra. + +"News of revived interest in the Third Force computer, Merlin, having +reached Terra by way of Odin, representatives of Interworld News, to +which this service subscribes, interviewed retired Force-General Foxx +Travis, now living, at the advanced age of a hundred and fourteen, on +Luna. General Travis, who commanded the Third Fleet-Army Force here +during the War, categorically denied that there had ever existed any +super-computer of the sort. + +"We bring you, now, a recorded interview with General Travis, made on +Luna...." + +For an instant, Conn felt the room around him whirling dizzily, and +then he caught hold of himself. Everybody else was shouting in sudden +consternation, and then everybody was hushing everybody else and +making twice as much noise. The screen flickered; the commentator +vanished, and instead, seated in the deep-cushioned chair, was the +thin and frail old man with whom Conn had talked two years before, and +through an open segment of the dome-roof behind him the full Earth +shone, the continents of the Western Hemisphere plainly +distinguishable. A young woman in starchy nurse's white bent forward +solicitously from beside the chair, handing him a small beaker from +which he sipped some stimulant. He looked much as he had when Conn had +talked to him. But there was something missing.... + +Oh, yes. The comparative youngster of seventy-some--"Mike Shanlee ... +my _aide-de-camp_ on Poictesme ... now he thinks he's my keeper...." +He wasn't in evidence, and he should be. Then Conn knew where and when +he had seen the man who claimed to be a preacher named Carl Leibert. + +"There is absolutely no truth in it, gentlemen," Travis was saying. +"There never was any such computer. I only wish there had been; it +would have shortened the War by years. We did, of course, use +computers of all sorts, but they were all the conventional types used +by business organizations...." + +The rest was lost in a new outburst of shouting: General Travis, in +the screen, continued in dumb-show. The only thing Conn could +distinguish was Leibert's--Shanlee's--voice, screaming: "Can it be a +lie? Is there no Great Computer?" Then Kurt Fawzi was pounding on the +top of the desk and bellowing, "Shut up! Listen!" + +"Frankly, I'm surprised," Travis was continuing. "Young Maxwell talked +to me, here in this room, a couple of years ago; I told him then that +nothing of the sort existed. If he's back on Poictesme telling people +there is, he's lying to them and taking advantage of their credulity. +There never was anything called Project Merlin...." + +"Hah, who's a liar now?" Klem Zareff shouted. "Dolf, what did your +people find in the Library?" + +"Why, that's right!" Professor Kellton exclaimed. "My students did +find a dozen references to Project Merlin. He couldn't be ignorant of +anything like that." + +"This youth has been lying to us all along!" the old man with the +beard cried, pointing an accusing finger at Conn. "He has created +false hopes; he has given us faith in a delusion. Why, he is the +wickedest monster in human history!" + +"Well, thank you, General Travis," another voice, from the +screen-speaker, was saying. The only calm voice in the room. "That was +a most excellent statement, sir. It should...." + +"Conn, you didn't tell us you'd talked to General Travis," Morgan +Gatworth was saying. "Why didn't you?" + +"Because I never believed anything he told me. You were in Kurt +Fawzi's office the day I came home; you know how shocked everybody was +when I told you I hadn't been able to learn anything positive. Why +should I repeat his lies and discourage everybody that much more? Why, +he'd deny there was a Merlin if he was sitting on top of it," Conn +declared. "He wants the credit for winning the War, not for letting +Merlin win it for him." + +"I don't blame Conn," Klem Zareff said. "If he'd told us that then, +some of us might have believed it." + +"And look what we found," Kurt Fawzi added, pointing at the ceiling. +"Is that Merlin up there, or isn't it?" + +"That little thing!" Shanlee cried scornfully. "How could that be +Merlin? I am going to my chamber, to pray for forgiveness for this +wretch." + +He turned and started for the door. + +"Stop him, Tom!" Conn said, and Tom Brangwyn put himself in front of +the older man, gripping his right arm. Shanlee tried, briefly, to +resist. + +"Seems to me you lost faith in Merlin awfully quick," the former town +marshal of Litchfield said. "You knew there was a Merlin all along, +and you never wanted us to find it." + +Franz Veltrin, who had been "Leibert's" most enthusiastic adherent, +had also lost faith suddenly; he was shouting vituperation at the +Prophet of Merlin. + +"Knock it off, Franz; he was only doing his duty," Conn said. "Weren't +you, General Shanlee?" + +It took almost a minute before they stopped yelling for an explanation +and allowed him to make one. He caught Klem Zareff's comment: "Must be +pretty hot, if they have to send a general to handle it." + +"I talked to Travis, yes. He gave me the same story he just repeated +on that interview," Conn said, picking his way carefully between fact +and fiction. "After I went back to Montevideo, he and this aide of his +must have been afraid I didn't believe it, which I didn't. When I was +ready to graduate, I got this offer of an instructorship; that was a +bribe to keep me on Terra and off Poictesme. When I turned it down and +took the _Mizar_ home, Travis sent Shanlee after me. He must have +grown that beard and that pageboy bob on the way out. I suppose he +contacted Murchison as soon as he landed. Wait a minute." + +He went to the communication screen and punched out a combination. A +girl appeared and singsonged: "Barton-Massarra, Investigation and +Protection." + +"Conn Maxwell here. We gave you some audiovisuals of a man with a +white beard, alias Carl Leibert," he began. + +"Just a sec, Mr. Maxwell." She spoke quickly into a handphone. The +screen flickered, and she was replaced by a hard-faced young man in +dark clothes. + +"Hello, Mr. Maxwell; Joe Massarra. We haven't anything on Leibert +yet." + +"Are any of the officers of the _Andromeda_ where you can contact +them? Let them see those audiovisual. I'll bet that beard was grown +aboard ship coming out from Terra." + +Bedlam broke out suddenly. Shanlee, who had been standing passively, +his right arm loosely grasped by Tom Brangwyn, came down on Brangwyn's +instep with the heel of his left foot and hit Brangwyn under the chin +with the heel of his left palm. Wrenching his arm free, he started for +the door. Sylvie Jacquemont snatched a chair and threw it along the +floor; it hit the fleeing man's ankles and brought him down. Half a +dozen men piled on top of him, and Brangwyn was yelling to them not to +choke him to death till he could answer some questions. + +"Hey, what's going on?" the detective-agency man in the screen was +asking. "Need help? We'll start a car right away." + +"Everything's under control, thank you." + +Massarra hesitated for a moment. "What's the dope on this statement +that was on telecast a few minutes ago?" he asked. + +"Travis doesn't want us to find Merlin. What you just heard was one of +his people, planted here at Force Command. We're going to question him +when we have time. But there isn't a word of truth in that statement +you just heard on the _Herald-Guardian_ newscast. Merlin exists, and +we've found it. We'll have it opened inside of thirty hours at most." + +That was the line he was going to take with everybody. As soon as he +had Massarra off the screen, he was punching the combination of his +father's private screen at Interplanetary Building. It took five +interminable minutes before Rodney Maxwell came on. He could hear Klem +Zareff shouting orders into one of the inside communication +screens--general turnout, everything on combat-ready; guards to come +at once to the office. + +"How close are you to digging that thing out?" his father asked as +soon as he appeared. + +"We're down to it; we can start cutting the collapsium any time now." + +"Start cutting it ten minutes ago," his father told him. "And don't +leave Force Command till you have it open. How many men and vehicles +does Klem have for defense? You'll need all of them in a couple of +hours. Everybody here is stunned, now; they'll come out of it inside +an hour, and they'll come out fighting." + +"You'd better come out here." He turned, saw Jerry Rivas helping hold +Shanlee in a chair, and shouted to him: "Jerry! Turn out the workmen. +Start cutting the can open right away." He turned back to his father. +"Klem's just ordered all his force out. Are you coming here?" + +"I can't. In about an hour, everything's going up with a bang. I have +to be here to grab a few of the pieces." + +"You'll do a lot of good in jail, or on the end of a rope." + +"Chance I have to take," his father replied. "I think I'll have a +couple of hours. If anybody from the press calls you, what are you +going to tell them?" + +Conn repeated the line he had taken already. His father nodded. + +"All right. I'll call you later. If I can. Just keep things going at +your end." + +A dozen of Klem Zareff's men were crowding into the room. + +"This man's under close arrest," the old soldier was telling them. "He +is very important and very dangerous. Take him out somewhere, search +him to the skin, take his clothes away from him and give him a robe. +He's to be watched every second; make sure he hasn't poison or other +suicide means. He's to be questioned later." + +As soon as Rodney Maxwell was off the screen, there was a call-signal. +It was one of the news-services, wanting a statement. + +"I'll take it," Gatworth said, and then began talking: + +"This statement of General Travis's is completely false. There is a +Merlin, and we've found it...." + +They found something that might be good-enough Merlin for the next +thirty hours. That superstructure was just big enough for the manually +operated parts of a computer like Merlin; the input and output, and +the programming machines. + + + + +XX + + +Klem Zareff's guardsmen were mercenaries. A little over a year ago +they had, at best, been homeless drifters, and not a few had been +outlaws. Now they were soldiers, well fed, clothed, quartered and +equipped, and well and regularly paid. They had a good thing; they +were willing to fight to keep it, Merlin or no Merlin. Conn left them +to their commander. He did gather the workmen for a short harangue, +but that wasn't really necessary. They had a good thing, too, and most +of them realized that they were working toward a better thing. They +could be depended upon, too. + +They came crowding out and manned lifters; they got the heavy +collapsium-cutter maneuvered into place and the shielding down around +the cutting-head. After that, there were only four men who could work, +each in his own heavily shielded cabin. In spite of the shielding that +covered the actual work, there was an awesome display of multicolored +light; it was like being in the middle of an aurora borealis. What was +going on where that tiny rotating beam of cosmic rays was grinding at +the collapsium simply couldn't have been imagined. + +Conn would have liked to stay outside; he could not. Too many things +were happening in too many places, and it was all coming in by screen. +Rioting had broken out in Storisende and in a dozen other places. He +saw, on a news-screen, a mob raging in front of the Executive Palace; +yellow-shirted Cybernarchists were battling with city police and +Planetary troops, Armageddonists and Human Supremacy Leaguers were +fighting both and one another. Above all the confused noise of +shouting and shooting, an amplifier was braying: "_It's a lie! It's a +lie! Merlin has been found!_" Newsmen began arriving--Zareff's men +had orders to pass them through the cordon that had been put up around +Force Command--and they took up his time. It was worth it, though. +They could tell him what was going on. + +J. Fitzwilliam Sterber called. Rodney Maxwell had been arrested, on a +farrago of fraud charges--"I don't know who he's supposed to have +defrauded; the Planetary Government is the sole complainant"--and bail +was being illegally denied. Sterber's lawyerly soul was outraged, but +he was grimly elated. "You wait till things quiet down a little. We're +going to start a false-arrest suit--" + +"If you're alive to." Apparently Sterber hadn't thought of that. "What +do you think's going to happen when the Stock Exchange opens?" + +"It's going to be bad. But don't worry; your father must have foreseen +something like this. He gave me instructions, and instructed a few +more people." He named some of the Trisystem Investments people and +some of the bankers. "We're going to try to brace the market as long +as we can. Nobody who keeps his head is going to lose anything in the +long run." + +Luther Chen-Wong called from Port Carpenter, on Koshchei. He and Clyde +Nichols and a young mathematics professor named Simon Macquarte had +been running the colony, in Conn's absence and since Yves Jacquemont +had gone to space in the _Ouroboros II_. + +"Well, they caught up with you," he said. Evidently he had figured out +what the search for Merlin was all about, too. "What do we do about +it?" + +"Well, we are just before finding Merlin, here. I hope we find it +before things get too bad." He told Luther the situation of the +moment. "Have you people started on another hypership yet?" + +"We're getting organized to. I don't suppose it's advisable to send +any more ships in to Storisende for a while? And are you sure this +thing you've found is Merlin?" + +"I don't know what it is. It's only big enough for the apparatus +they'd need to operate a thing like Merlin--Yes, Luther. I am sure we +have found Merlin." + +Chen-Wong looked at him curiously. "I hope so. I can't think of +anything else that can stop this business." + +Tom Brangwyn was in the room when he turned from the screen. + +"We searched Leibert's--Shanlee's--rooms," he said. "We found a bomb." + +"What kind of a bomb?" + +"Vest-pocket thermonuclear. He seems to have gotten the fissionables +by taking apart a couple of light tactical missiles; the whole thing's +packed inside a hundred-pound power-cartridge case. It was in a +traveling-bag under his bed. And you know how it was to be fired? With +a regular 40-mm flare-pistol, welded into the end of the bomb. The +flare-powder had been taken out of the cartridge, and it had been +reloaded with a big charge of rifle-powder. I suppose it would blow +one subcritical mass into another. But the only way he could have +fired the bomb would have been by pulling the trigger." + +And blowing himself up along with it. He must have wanted Merlin +destroyed pretty badly. + +"Have you questioned him yet?" + +"Not yet. I wanted to tell you about it first." + +He looked at his watch. Only four hours had passed since the newscast; +why, that seemed like months, ago, now. + +"All right, Tom; we'll go talk to him. Where's the Colonel?" + +Zareff was surrounded by a dozen screens, keeping in touch with the +_Lester Dawes_ and the gunboats and combat cars, and the gun positions +with which he had ringed Force Command. It was only a little army, +maybe, but he was a busy commander-in-chief. + +"You take care of it. Tell me what you get from him. I can't leave +now. There's a report of a number of aircraft approaching from the +west now...." + +They found Judge Ledue, and Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton, who were just +sitting around wishing there was something to do to help. They gave +Franz Veltrin and Sylvie Jacquemont the job of keeping the +representatives of the press amused. Then they went down to the room +in which General Mike Shanlee was held under guard. + +Shanlee, wearing a bathrobe and nothing else, was lying on a cot, +sleeping peacefully; three of Zareff's men were sitting on chairs, +watching him narrowly. + +"All right; you can go," Conn told them. "We'll take care of him." + +Shanlee woke instantly; he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of +the cot. + +"You have my name and rank," he said, and his voice no longer +quavered. "My serial number is--" He recited a string of figures. "And +that's all you're getting out of me." + +"We'll get anything we want out of you," Conn told him. "You know what +a mind-probe is? You should; your accomplices used one on my father's +secretary. She's a hopeless imbecile now. You'll be, too, when we're +through with you. But before then, you'll have given us everything you +know." + +Kellton began to protest. "Conn, you can't do a thing like that!" + +"A mind-probe is utterly illegal; why, it's a capital offense!" Ledue +exclaimed. "Conn I forbid you...." + +"Judge, don't make me call those guards and have you removed," Conn +said. + +"You can stop bluffing," Shanlee told him. "Where would you get a +mind-probe?" + +"Out of the Chief of Intelligence's office, here in his headquarters. +I should imagine it was to be used in interrogating Alliance +prisoners, during the War. I think Colonel Zareff would enjoy helping +to use it on you. He used to be an Alliance officer." + +Shanlee was silent. Conn sat down in one of the chairs, at the small +table. + +"General Shanlee, would you describe General Foxx Travis as a man of +honor and integrity? And would you so describe yourself?" Shanlee said +nothing. "Yet both of you have lied, deliberately and repeatedly, to +conceal the existence of Merlin. And we found that bomb in your room. +You were willing to blow up this headquarters and everybody, yourself +included, in it, to keep us from getting at Merlin. Well, you know +that we can make you tell us the truth, maybe when it's too late, and +you know that we are going to get Merlin. We're cutting the collapsium +off that thing above now." + +Shanlee laughed. "You're supposed to be a computerman. You think that +little thing could be Merlin?" + +"The controls and programming machine for Merlin." He turned to Kurt +Fawzi. "You always claimed that Merlin was here in Force Command. You +had it backward. Force Command is inside Merlin." + +"What do you mean, Conn?" + +"The walls; the fifty-foot walls, shielded inside and out. Merlin--the +circuitry, the memory-bank, the relays, everything--was installed +inside them. What's up above is only what was needed to operate the +computer. Isn't that true, General?" + +Shanlee had stopped his derisive laughter. He sat on the edge of the +cot, tensing as though for a leap at Conn's throat. + +"That won't help, either. If you try it, we won't shoot you. We'll +just overpower you and start mind-probing right away. Now; you feel +that suppressing Merlin was worth any sacrifice. We're not +unreasonable. If you can convince us that Merlin ought not to be +brought to light.... Well, you can't do any harm by talking, and you +may do some good. You may even accomplish your mission." + +"He can't talk us out of it," Kurt Fawzi seemed determined to spoil +things by saying. "Conn, I'm coming around to Klem's way of thinking. +They just don't want anybody else to have it." + +"No, we don't," Shanlee said. "We don't want the whole Federation +breaking up into bloody anarchy, and that's what'll happen if you dig +that thing up and put it into operation." + +Nobody said anything except Fawzi, who began an indignant +contradiction and then subsided. Tom Brangwyn lit a cigarette. + +"Would you mind letting me have one of those?" Shanlee said. "I +haven't had a smoke since I came here. It wouldn't have been in +character." + +Brangwyn took one out of the pack, lit it at the tip of his own, and +gave it to Shanlee with his left hand, his right ready to strike. +Shanlee laughed in real amusement. + +"Oh, Brother!" he reproved, in his former pious tones. "You distrust +your fellow man; that is a sin." + +He rose slowly, the bathrobe flapping at his bare shins, and sat down +across the table from Conn. + +"All right," he said. "I'll tell you about it. I'll tell you the +truth, which will be something of a novelty all around." + +Shanlee puffed for a moment at the cigarette; it must really have +tasted good after his long abstinence. + +"You know, we were really caught off balance when the War ended. It +even caught Merlin short; information lag, of course. The whole +Alliance caved in all at once. Well, we fed Merlin all the data +available, and analyzed the situation. Then we did something we really +weren't called upon to do, because that was policy-planning and wasn't +our province, but we were going to move an occupation army into System +States planets, and we didn't want to do anything that would embarrass +the Federation Government later. We fed Merlin every scrap of +available information on political and economic conditions everywhere +in the Federation, and set up a long-term computation of the general +effects of the War. + +"The extrapolation was supposed to run five hundred years in the +future. It didn't. It stopped, at a point a trifle over two hundred +years from now, with a statement that no computation could be made +further because at that point the Terran Federation would no longer +exist." + +The others, who had taken chairs facing him, looked at him blankly. + +"No more Federation?" Judge Ledue asked incredulously. "Why, the +Federation, the Federation...." + +The Federation would last forever. Anybody knew that. There just +couldn't be no more Federation. + +"That's right," Shanlee said. "We had trouble believing it, too. +Remember, we were Federation officers. The Federation was our +religion. Just like patriotism used to be, back in the days of +nationalism. We checked for error. We made detail analyses. We ran it +all over again. It was no use. + +"In two hundred years, there won't be any Terran Federation. The +Government will collapse, slowly. The Space Navy will disintegrate. +Planets and systems will lose touch with Terra and with one another. +You know what it was like here, just before the War? It will be like +that on every planet, even on Terra. Just a slow crumbling, till +everything is gone; then every planet will start sliding back, in +isolation, into barbarism." + +"Merlin predicted that?" Kurt Fawzi asked, shocked. + +If Merlin said so, it had to be true. + +Shanlee nodded. "So we ran another computation; we added the data of +publication of this prognosis. You know, Merlin can't predict what you +or I would do under given circumstances, but Merlin can handle +large-group behavior with absolute accuracy. If we made public +Merlin's prognosis, the end would come, not in two centuries but in +less than one, and it wouldn't be a slow, peaceful decay; it would be +a bomb-type reaction. Rebellions. Overthrow of Federation authority, +and then revolt and counterrevolt against planetary authority. +Division along sectional or class lines on individual planets. +Interplanetary wars; what we fought the Alliance to prevent. Left in +ignorance of the future, people would go on trying to make do with +what they had. But if they found out that the Federation was doomed, +everybody would be trying to snatch what they could, and end by +smashing everything. Left in ignorance, there might be a planet here +and there that would keep enough of the old civilization to serve, in +five or so centuries, as a nucleus for a new one. Informed in advance +of the doom of the Federation, they would all go down together in the +same bloody shambles, and there would be a Galactic night of barbarism +for no one knows how many thousand years." + +"We don't want anything like that to happen!" Tom Brangwyn said, in a +frightened voice. + +"Then pull everybody out of here and blow the place up, Merlin along +with it," Shanlee said. + +"No! We'll not do that!" Fawzi shouted. "I'll shoot the man dead who +tries it!" + +"Why didn't you people blow Merlin up?" Conn asked. + +"We'd built it; we'd worked with it. It was part of us, and we were +part of it. We couldn't. Besides, there was a chance that it might +survive the Federation; when a new civilization arose, it would be +useful. We just sealed it. There were fewer than a hundred of us who +knew about it. We all took an oath of secrecy. We spent the rest of +our lives trying to suppress any mention of Merlin or the Merlin +Project. You have no idea how shocked both General Travis and I were +when you told us that the story was still current here on Poictesme. +And when we found that you'd been getting into the records of the +Third Force, I took the next ship I could, a miserable little +freighter, and when I landed and found out what was happening, I +contacted Murchison and scared the life out of him with stories about +a secessionist conspiracy. All this Armageddonist, Human Supremacy, +Merlin-is-the-Devil, stuff that's been going on was started by +Murchison. And he succeeded in scaring Vyckhoven with the +Cybernarchists, too." + +"This computation on the future of the Federation is still in the +back-work file?" Conn asked. + +Shanlee nodded. "We were criminally reckless; I can see that, now. Let +me beg, again, that you destroy the whole thing." + +"We'll have to talk it over among ourselves," Judge Ledue said. "The +five of us, here, cannot presume to speak for everybody. We will, of +course, have to keep you confined; I hope you will understand that we +cannot accept your parole." + +"Is there anything you want in the meantime?" Conn asked. + +"I would like something to smoke, and some clothes," General Shanlee +said. "And a shave and a haircut." + + + + +XXI + + +All through the night, a shifting blaze of many-colored light rose and +dimmed the stars above the mesa. They stared in awe, marveling at the +energy that was pouring out of the converters into a tiny spot that +inched its way around the collapsium shielding. It must have been +visible for hundreds of miles; it was, for there was a new flood of +rumors circulating in Storisende and repeated and denied by the +newscasts, now running continuously. Merlin had been found. Merlin had +been blown up by Government troops. Merlin was being transported to +Storisende to be installed as arbiter of the Government. Merlin the +Monster was destroying the planet. Merlin the Devil was unchained. + +Conn and Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton and Judge Ledue and Tom Brangwyn +clustered together, talking in whispers. They had told nobody, yet, of +the interview with Shanlee. + +"You think it would make all that trouble?" Kellton was asking +anxiously, hoping that the others would convince him that it wouldn't. + +"Maybe we had better destroy it," Judge Ledue faltered. "You see what +it's done already; the whole planet's in anarchy. If we let this go +on...." + +"We can't decide anything like that, just the five of us," Brangwyn +was insisting. "We'll have to get the others together and see what +they think. We have no right to make any decision like this for them." + +"They're no more able to make the decision than we are," Conn said. + +"But we've got to; they have a right to know...." + +"If you decide to destroy Merlin, you'll have to decide to kill me, +first," Kurt Fawzi said, his voice deadly calm. "You won't do it while +I'm alive." + +"But, Kurt," Ledue expostulated. "You know why these people here at +Storisende are rioting? It's because they've lost hope, because +they're afraid and desperate. The Terran Federation is something +everybody feels they have to have, for peace and order and welfare. If +people thought it was breaking up, they'd be desperate, too. They'd do +the same insane things these people here on this planet are doing. +General Shanlee was right. Don't destroy the hope that keeps them +sane." + +"We don't need to do that," Kurt Fawzi argued. "We can use Merlin to +solve our own problems; we don't need to tell the whole Federation +what's going to happen in two hundred years." + +"It would get out; it couldn't help getting out," Ledue said. + +"Let's not try to decide it ourselves," Conn said. "Let's get Merlin +into operation, and run a computation on it." + +"You mean, ask Merlin to tell us whether it ought to be destroyed or +not?" Ledue asked incredulously. "Let Merlin put itself on trial, and +sentence itself to destruction?" + +"Merlin is a computer; computers deal only in facts. Computers are +machines; they have no sense of self-preservation. If Merlin ought to +be destroyed, Merlin will tell us so." + +"You willing to leave it up to Merlin, Kurt?" Tom Brangwyn asked. + +Fawzi gulped. "Yes. If Merlin says we ought to, we'll have to do it." + +Toward noon, a telecast went out from Koshchei, on a dozen different +wave-lengths. Conn, half asleep in a chair in the commander-in-chief's +office, saw Simon Macquarte, the young mathematics professor from +Storisende College who had become one of the leaders of the colony, +appear in the screen. The next moment, he was fully awake, shocked by +Macquarte's words: + +"This is not a threat; this is a solemn, even a prayerful, warning. We +do not want to use genocidal weapons of mass destruction against the +world of our birth. But whether we do or not rests solely with you. + +"We came here with a dream of a better world, a world of happiness and +plenty for all. We have been working, on Koshchei, to build such a +world on Poictesme. Now you are smashing that dream. When it is gone, +we will have nothing to live for--except revenge. And we will take +that revenge, make no mistake. + +"We have the weapons with which to take it. Remember, this was a +Federation naval base and naval arsenal during the War. Here the +Federation Navy built their super-missiles, the missiles which +devastated Ashmodai, and Belphegor, and Baphomet, and hundreds of +these weapons are here. We have them, ready for launching. Once they +are launched, with the robo-pilots set for targets on Poictesme, you +will have a hundred and sixty hours, at the most, to live. + +"We will launch them immediately if there is another attack made upon +Force Command Duplicate HQ, or upon Interplanetary Building in +Storisende, or if Rodney Maxwell is killed, no matter by whom or under +what circumstances. + +"We beg you, earnestly and prayerfully, not to force us to do this +dreadful thing. We speak to each one of you, for each one of you holds +the fate of the planet in his own hands." + +The image faded from the screen. As it did, Conn was looking from one +to another of the people in the room with him. All were dumbfounded, +most of them frightened. + +"They wouldn't do it, would they?" Lorenzo Menardes was asking. "Conn, +you know those people. They wouldn't really?" + +"Don't depend on it, Lorenzo," Klem Zareff said. "It's hard for a lot +of people to shoot somebody ten feet away with a pistol. But just +sending off a missile; that's nothing but setting a lot of dials and +then pushing a button." + +"I'm not worrying about whether they'd do it or not," Conn said. "What +I'm worrying about is how many people will believe they will." + +Apparently a good many people did. Zareff's combat vehicles began +reporting a cessation of fighting. The newscasts, repeating the +ultimatum from Koshchei, told of fewer and fewer disorders in the city +or elsewhere; by midafternoon, the rioting had stopped. + +By that time, too, Rodney Maxwell was on-screen. He was, Conn noticed, +wearing his pistols again. + +"What happened?" he asked. "They let you out on bail?" + +Maxwell shook his head. "Charges dismissed; they didn't have anything +to charge me with in the first place. But they haven't let me out +yet." + +"You're wearing your guns." + +"Yes, but they still have me penned up here at the Executive Palace; +they're practically keeping me in the safe. I wish our people on +Koshchei hadn't mentioned me in their ultimatum; Jake Vyckhoven's +afraid to let me run around loose for fear some lunatic shoots me and +starts the planetbusters coming in. Jake did one good thing, though. +He ordered the Stock Exchange closed, and declared a five-day bank +holiday. By that time, you ought to have Merlin opened and working, +and then the market'll be safe." + +Conn simply replied, "I hope so." There was no telling what kind of +taps there might be on the screen his father was using; he couldn't +risk telling him about Shanlee, or about the last computation which +Merlin had made. "If we send the _Lester Dawes_ in, do you think you +might talk them into letting you come out here?" + +"I can try." + +Flora arrived at Force Command that afternoon. + +"I would have come sooner," she said, "but Mother's had a complete +collapse. It happened last evening; she's in the hospital. I was with +her until just an hour and a half ago. She's still unconscious." + +"You mean she's in danger?" + +"I don't know. They think she's all right, except for the shock. It +was the Travis statement that did it." + +"Think I ought to go to her?" + +Flora shook her head. "Just keep on with what you're doing here. There +isn't anything you can do for her now." + +"The best thing you can do for her, Conn, is prove that you weren't +lying about Merlin," Sylvie told him. + +The _Lester Dawes_ didn't make it from Force Command to Storisende and +back until after dark, and the green and white and red and orange +lights were rising in folds and waves. Rodney Maxwell had heard about +his wife's condition; it was the first thing he spoke of when Conn +and Flora and Sylvie met him as he got off the ship. + +"There isn't anything we can do, Father," Flora said. "They'll call us +when there's any change." + +He said the same thing Sylvie had said. "The only thing we can do is +get that infernal thing uncovered. Once we do this, everything'll be +all right. We'll show your mother that it isn't a fake and it isn't +anything dangerous; we'll put a stop to all these horror-stories about +mechanical devils and living machines...." + +Conn drew his father off where the girls couldn't overhear. + +"This is something worse," he said. "This is a bomb that could blow up +the whole Federation." + +"Are you going nuts, too?" his father demanded. + +Conn told him about Shanlee; he repeated, almost word for word, the +story Shanlee had told. + +"Do you believe that?" his father asked. + +"Don't you? You were in Storisende when the Travis statement came out; +you saw how people acted. If this story gets out, people will be +acting the same way on every planet in the Federation. Not just places +like Poictesme; planets like Terra and Baldur and Marduk and Odin and +Osiris. It would be the end of everything civilized, everywhere." + +"Why didn't they use Merlin to save the Federation?" + +"It's past saving. It's been past saving since before the War. The War +was what gave it the final shove. If they could have used Merlin to +reverse the process, they wouldn't have sealed it away." + +"But you know, Conn, we can't destroy Merlin. If we did, the same +people who went crazy over the Travis statement would go crazy all +over again, worse than ever. We'd be destroying everything we planned +for, and we'd be destroying ourselves. That bluff young Macquarte and +Luther Chen-Wong and Bill Nichols made wouldn't work twice. And if +they weren't bluffing...." + +His father shuddered. + +"And if we don't, how long do you think civilization will last here, +if it blows up all over the rest of the Federation?" + +The big machine cut on, a little spot of raw energy grinding away the +collapsium, inch by inch; the undulating curtains of colored light +illuminated the Badlands for miles around. Then, when the first hint +of dawn came into the east, they went out. The steady roar of the +generators that had battered every ear for over twenty-four hours +stopped. There was unbelieving silence, and then shouts. + +The workmen swarmed out to man lifters. Slowly the heavy +apparatus--the reactor and the converters, the cutting machine, and +the shielding around it--was lifted away. Finally, a lone lifter came +in and men in radiation-suits went down to hook on grapples, and it +lifted away, carrying with it a ten-foot-square sheet of thin steel +that weighed almost thirty tons. + +When they had battered a hole in the vitrified rock underneath, guards +brought up General Shanlee. Somebody almost up to professional +standards had given him a haircut; the beard was gone, too. A +Federation Army officer's uniform had been found reasonably close to +his size, and somebody had even provided him with the four stars of +his retirement rank. He was, again, the man Conn had seen in the +dome-house on Luna. + +"Well, you got it open," he said, climbing down from the airjeep that +had brought him. "Now, what are you going to do with it?" + +"We can't make up our minds," Conn said. "We're going to let the +computer tell us what to do with it." + +Shanlee looked at him, startled. "You mean, you're going to have +Merlin judge itself and decide its own fate?" he asked. "You'll get +the same result we did." + +They let a ladder down the hole and descended--Conn and his father, +Kurt Fawzi, Jerry Rivas, then Shanlee and his two guards, then +others--until a score of them were crowded in the room at the bottom, +their flashlights illuminating the circular chamber, revealing +ceiling-high metal cabinets, banks of button- and dial-studded control +panels, big keyboards. It was Shanlee who found the lights and put +them on. + +"Powered from the central plant, down below," he said. "The main +cables are disguised as the grounding-outlet. If this thing had been +on when you put on the power, you'd have had an awful lot of power +going nowhere, apparently." + +Rodney Maxwell was disappointed. "I know this stuff looks awfully +complex, but I'd have expected there to be more of it." + +"Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you about that. This is only the +operating end," Conn said, and then asked Shanlee if there were +inspection-screens. When Shanlee indicated them, he began putting them +on. "This is the real computer." + +They all gave the same view, with minor differences--long corridors, +ten feet wide, between solid banks of steel cabinets on either side. +Conn explained where they were, and added: + +"Kurt and the rest of them were sitting here, all this time, wondering +where Merlin was; it was all around them." + +"Well, how did you get up here?" Fawzi asked. "We couldn't find +anything from below." + +"No, you couldn't." Shanlee was amused. "Watch this." + +It was so simple that nobody had ever guessed it. Below, back of the +Commander-in-chief's office, there was a closet, fifteen feet by +twenty. They had found it empty except for some bits of discarded +office-gear, and had used it as a catch-all for everything they wanted +out of the way. Shanlee went to where four thick steel columns rose +from floor to ceiling in a rectangle around a heavy-duty lifter, +pressing a button on a control-box on one of them. The lifter, and the +floor under it, rose, with a thick mass of vitrified rock underneath. +The closet, full of the junk that had been thrown into it, followed. + +"That's it," he said. "We just tore out the controls inside that and +patched it up a little. There's a sheet of collapsium-plate under the +floor. Your scanners simply couldn't detect anything from below." + +Confident that Merlin would decree its own destruction, Shanlee gave +his parole; the others accepted it. The newsmen were admitted to the +circular operating room and encouraged to send out views and +descriptions of everything. Then the lift controls were reinstalled, +the lid was put back on top, and the only access to the room was +through the office below. The entrance to this was always guarded by +Zarel's soldiers or Brangwyn's police. + +There were only a score of them who could be let in on the actual +facts. For the most part, they were the same men who had been in +Fawzi's office on the afternoon of Conn's return, a year and a half +ago. A few others--Anse Dawes, Jerry Rivas, and five computermen Conn +had trained on Koshchei--had to be trusted. Conn insisted on letting +Sylvie Jacquemont in on the revised Awful Truth About Merlin. They +spent a lot of their time together, in Travis's office, for the most +part sunk in dejection. + +They had finally found Merlin; now they must lose it. They were trying +to reconcile themselves and take comfort from the achievement, empty +as it was. They could see no way out. If Merlin said that Merlin had +to be destroyed, that was it. Merlin was infallible. Conn hated the +thought of destroying that machine with his whole being, not because +it was an infallible oracle, but because it was the climactic +masterpiece of the science he had spent years studying. To destroy it +was an even worse sacrilege to him than it was to the Merlinolators. +And Rodney Maxwell was thinking of the public effects. What the Travis +statement had started would be nothing by comparison. + +"You know, we can keep the destruction of Merlin a secret," Conn said. +"It'll take some work down at the power plant, but we can overload all +the circuits and burn everything out at once." He turned to Shanlee. +"I don't know why you people didn't think of that." + +Shanlee looked at him in surprise. "Why, now that you mention it, +neither do I," he admitted. "We just didn't." + +"Then," Conn continued, "we can tinker up something in the operating +room that'll turn out what will look like computation results. As far +as anybody outside ourselves will know, Merlin will still be solving +everybody's problems. We'll do like any fortuneteller; tell the +customer what he wants to believe and keep him happy." + +More lies; lies without end. And now he'd have a machine to do his +lying for him, a dummy computer that wouldn't compute anything. And +all he'd wanted, to begin with, had been a ship to haul some brandy to +where they could get a fair price for it. + +Peace had returned. At first, it had been a frightened and uneasy +peace. The bluff--he hoped that was what it had been--by the Koshchei +colonists had shocked everybody into momentary inaction. In the +twenty-four hours that had followed, the forces of sanity and order +had gotten control again. Merlin existed and had been found. As for +Travis's statement, the old general had been bound by a wartime oath +of secrecy to deny Merlin's existence. The majority relaxed, ashamed +of their hysterical reaction. As for the Cybernarchists and +Armageddonists and Human Supremacy Leaguers, government and private +police, vastly augmented by volunteers, speedily rounded up the +leaders; their followers dispersed, realizing that Merlin was nothing +but a lot of dials and buttons, and interestedly watching the +broadcast views of it. + +The banks were still closed, but discreet back-door withdrawals were +permitted to keep business going; so was the Stock Exchange, but word +was going around the brokerage offices that Trisystem Investments was +in the market for a long list of securities. Nobody was willing to do +anything that might upset the precarious balance; everybody was +talking about the bright future, when Merlin would guide Poictesme to +ever greater and more splendid prosperity. + +Conn's father and sister flew to Litchfield; Flora stayed with her +mother, and Rodney Maxwell returned to Force Command, shaking his head +gravely. + +"She's still unconscious, Conn," he said. "She just lies there, barely +breathing. The doctors don't know.... I wish Wade hadn't gone on the +ship." + +The price of what he had wanted to do was becoming unendurably high +for Conn. + +They ran off the computations Merlin had made forty years before, and +rechecked them. There had been no error. The Terran Federation, +overextended, had been cracking for a century before the War; the +strain of that conflict had started an irreversible breakup. Two +centuries for the Federation as such; at most, another century of +irregular trade and occasional war between independent planets, Galaxy +full of human-populated planets as poor as Poictesme at its worst. Or, +aware of the future, sudden outbursts of desperate violence, then +anarchy and barbarism. + +It took a long time to set up the new computation. Forty years +of history for almost five hundred planets had to be abstracted +and summarized and translated from verbal symbols to the +electro-mathematical language of computers and fed in. Conn and Sylvie +and General Shanlee and the three men and two women Conn had taught on +Koshchei worked and rested briefly and worked again. Finally, it was +finished. + +"General; you're the oldest Merlin hand," Conn said, gesturing to the +red button at the main control panel, "You do it." + +"You do it, Conn. None of us would be here except for you." + +"Thank you, General." + +He pressed the button. They all stood silently watching the output +slot. + +Even a positronic computer does not work instantaneously. Nothing +does. Conn took his eyes from the slot from which the tape would come, +and watched the second-hand of the clock above it. The wait didn't +seem like hours to him; it only seemed like seventy-five seconds, that +way. Then the bell rang, and the tape began coming out. + +It took another hour and a half of button-punching; the Braille-like +symbols on the tape had to be retranslated, and even Merlin couldn't +do that for itself. Merlin didn't think in human terms. + +It was the same as before. In ignorance, the peoples of the Federation +worlds would go on, striving to keep things running until they wore +out, and then sinking into apathetic acceptance. Deprived of hope, +they would turn to frantic violence and smash everything they most +wanted to preserve. Conn pushed another button. + +The second information-request went in: _What is the best course to be +followed under these conditions by the people of Poictesme?_ It had +taken some time to phrase that in symbols a computer would find +comprehensible; the answer, at great length, emerged in two minutes +eight seconds. Retranslating it took five hours. + +In the beginning and for the first ten years, it was, almost item for +item, the Maxwell Plan. Export trade, specialized in luxury goods. +Brandies and wines, tobacco; a long list of other exportable +commodities, and optimum markets. Reopening of industrial plants; +establishment of new industries. Attainment of economic +self-sufficiency. Cultural self-sufficiency; establishment of +universities, institutes of technology, research laboratories. Then +the Maxwell Plan became the Merlin Plan; the breakup of the Federation +was a fact that entered into the computation. Build-up of military +strength to resist aggression by other planetary governments. Defense +of the Gartner Trisystem. Lists of possible aggressor planets. Revival +of interstellar communications and trade; expeditions, conquest and +re-education of natives.... + +"We can't begin to handle this without Merlin," Conn said. "If that +means blowing up the Federation, let it blow. We'll start a new one +here." + +"No; if there's a general, violent collapse of the Federation, it'll +spread to Poictesme," Shanlee told him. "Let's ask Merlin the big +question." + +Merlin took a good five minutes to work that one out. The question had +to include a full description of Merlin, and a statement of the +information which must be kept secret. The answer was even more +lengthy, but it was summed up in the first word: _Falsification_. + +"So Merlin's got to be a liar, too, along with the rest of us!" Sylvie +cried. "Conn, you've corrupted his morals!" + +The rest of it was false data which must be taped in, and lists of +corrections which must be made in evaluating any computation into +which such data might enter. There was also a statement that, after +fifty years, suppression of the truth and circulation of falsely +optimistic statements about the Federation would no longer have any +importance. + +"Well, that's it," Conn said. "Merlin thought himself out of a death +sentence." + +They crowded into the lift and went down to the office below. +Everybody who knew what had been going on upstairs was there. Most of +them were nursing drinks; almost everybody was smoking. All of them +were silent, until Judge Ledue took his cigar from his mouth. + +"Has the jury reached a verdict?" he asked, clinging with courtroom +formality to his self-control. + +"Yes, your Honor. We find the defendant, Merlin, not guilty as +charged." + +In the uproar his words released, Rodney Maxwell got to his feet and +came quickly to Conn. + +"Flora called just a while ago. Your mother is conscious; she's asking +for us. Flora says she seems perfectly normal." + +"We'll go right away; take a recon-car. General, will you explain +things till I get back? Sylvie, do you want to come with us?" + + + + +XXII + + +It was autumn again, the second autumn since he had landed from the +_City of Asgard_ at Storisende and taken the _Countess Dorothy_ home +to Litchfield. Again the fields were bare and brown; all up and down +the Gordon Valley the melons were harvested, and the wine-pressing was +ready to start. + +The house was crowded today. All top-level Litchfield seemed to have +turned out, and there were guests from Storisende, and even a few who +had made the trip from Koshchei to be there, Simon Macquarte, the +president of Koshchei Tech; Conn would always remember him in the +screen threatening a whole planet with devastation. Luther Chen-Wong, +the chief executive of Koshchei Colony. Clyde Nichols, the president +of Koshchei Airlines. + +He almost bumped into Yves Jacquemont, coming in from the hall. +Jacquemont's beard had been trimmed down to a small imperial, and he +was wearing the uniform of Trisystem & Interstellar Spacelines, +nothing at all like a Federation Space Navy uniform. He was laughing +about something; he threw an arm over Conn's shoulder, and they went +into the front parlor together. + +"Oh, Gehenna of a big crop!" he heard Klem Zareff's voice, chuckling +happily, above the babble in the room. "You wouldn't believe it. Why, +we had to build six new vats...." + +The thin-faced, white-haired man in the chair beside him said +something. Mike Shanlee and Klem Zareff, old enemies, were now fast +friends. Shanlee had come in from Force Command with Conn that +morning. He had stayed on Poictesme as nominal head of Project Merlin, +and intended to remain there for the rest of his life. + +"Oh, there aren't any more farm-tramps," Zareff replied. "Everybody's +getting factory jobs off-planet. I have an awful time getting help, +and what I can get won't work for less than ten sols a day. Why, +they're even organizing a union...." + +There were feminine shrieks from across the room, and a stampede. The +housecleaning-robot had come in, running its vacuum-cleaning hose +around and brandishing its mops. He saw his mother break away from a +group of older ladies and shout: + +"_Oscar!_" + +The robot stopped dead. "Yash'm?" a voice came out of it, +Sheshan-accented. + +"Go out!" his mother commanded. "Go to kitchen. Stay there." + +"Yash'm." The robot floated out the door to the hall. + +His mother rejoined her friends. Probably telling them, for the +thousandth time, that her boy Conn fixed up the sound receptors and +voice for Oscar. Or harping on how Conn had been telling everybody the +truth, all along, and people wouldn't believe him. + +Sylvie came up to him and caught his arm. "Come on, Conn; they're +going to start the rehearsal," she said. + +"They've been going to start it for an hour," her father told her. + +"Well, they're really going to start it now." + +"All right. You two run along," Yves Jacquemont said. "And you'd +better start rehearsing for your own wedding before long. The _Genji_ +will be ready to hyper out in another month, and I don't want to be at +space when my only daughter gets married." + +They pushed through the crowd, dragging Conn's mother with them toward +the big living room beyond. On the way, Mrs. Maxwell stopped to try to +drag Judge Ledue out of a chair. + +"Judge, the rehearsal is starting; they can't do it without you." + +Ledue clung to his chair. "They daren't do it with me, Mrs. Maxwell. +If I get into it, it won't be a rehearsal; they'll be really married, +and then there won't be any point in having a wedding tomorrow." + +"Oh, Morgan!" Conn called across the room to Gatworth. "You've just +been appointed temporary judge for the wedding rehearsal!" + +There was a big crowd around Wade Lucas, in the next room; he was +telling them about the voyage to Baldur, from which he had returned, +and the one to Irminsul, with a cargo of arms, machine tools and +contragravity vehicles, on which he and his bride would go for their +honeymoon. There was another crowd around Flora; she was telling them +about the new fashions on Baldur, which had been brought back on the +_Ouroboros II_. + +"Where's your father?" his mother was asking him. "He has to rehearse +giving the bride away." + +"Probably in his office. I'll go get him." + +"You'll get into an argument with somebody and forget to come back," +his mother said. "Sylvie, you go with him, and bring both of them +back." + +"When'll we have our wedding, Sylvie?" he asked as they went off +together. + +"Well, before Dad goes to Aditya with the _Genji_. That'll have to be +in a month." + +"Two weeks? That ought to be plenty of time to get ready, and let +people recover from this one." + +"Everybody's here now. Let's make it a double wedding tomorrow," she +suggested. + +He hadn't been prepared for that. "Well, I hadn't expected.... Sure! +Good idea!" he agreed. + +There was a crowd in Rodney Maxwell's little office--Fawzi and some +others, and some Storisende people. One of the latter was +vociferating: + +"Jake Vyckhoven's no good, and he never was any good!" + +"Well, you have to admit, if he hadn't ordered the banks and the Stock +Exchange closed that time, we'd have had a horrible panic--" + +"Admit nothing of the kind! Jethro, you were there, you'll bear me +out. About a dozen of us were at Executive Palace for hours, bullying +him into that. Why, we almost had to twist one of his arms while he +was signing the order with the other. And now he has the gall to run +for re-election on the strength of his heroic actions at the time of +the Travis Hoax!" + +"I know who we want for President!" another Storisende man exclaimed. +"He's right here in this room!" + +"Yes!" Rodney Maxwell almost bellowed, before the other man could say +anything else. "Here he is!" He grabbed Kurt Fawzi by the arm and +yanked him to his feet. "Here's the man most responsible for finding +Merlin; the man who first suggested sending my son Conn to Terra to +school, the man who, more than anyone else, devoted his life to the +search for Merlin, the man whose inextinguishable faith and +indomitable courage kept that search alive through its darkest hours. +Everybody, get a drink; a toast to our next President, Kurt Fawzi!" + +Conn was sure he heard his father add: "Ghu, what a narrow escape!" + +Then he and Sylvie began chanting, in unison, "_We want Fawzi! We want +Fawzi!_" + + + +If you enjoyed this novel, you will also want to read: + +SPACE VIKING +by +H. BEAM PIPER + + +After a galaxy-wide war had left the planetary federation in ruins, +every surviving civilized world was on its own. And that was a perfect +setup for the marauders from the far-out rim. + +Trask was one of those dreaded Space Vikings, a warrior spaceman with +a crew and a ship that struck terror to a thousand worlds. But Trask +had a special personal interest In scourging the stars--he wanted to +draw upon himself the fire of a certain enemy--a renegade +planet-wrecker with a yen for galactic empire building. + +Ace Book F-225 40 cent + +Available at this price (plus 5 cent handling fee) from Ace Books, Inc. +(Dept. MM), 1120 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N.Y. 10036 + +Here's a quick checklist of recent releases of + +ACE SCIENCE-FICTION BOOKS + +40 cent + + +F-231 STAR GATE by Andre Norton + +F-236 THE TIME TRADERS by Andre Norton + +F-237 THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE by A. Bertram Chandler +_and_ BEYOND THE GALACTIC RIM by A. Bertram Chandler + +F-239 TIME AND AGAIN by Clifford D. Simak + +F-240 WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES by H. G. Wells + +F-241 STAR BRIDGE by Jack Williamson and J. Gunn + +F-242 THE RITES OF OHE by John Brunner +_and_ CASTAWAYS' WORLD by John Brunner + +F-243 LORD OF THUNDER by Andre Norton + +F-246 METROPOLIS by Thea von Harbou + +F-248 BEYOND THE STARS by Ray Cummings + +F-249 THE HAND OF ZEI by L. Sprague de Camp +_and_ THE SEARCH FOR ZEI by L. Sprague de Camp + +F-251 THE GAME-PLAYERS OF TITAN by Philip K. Dick + +F-253 ONE OF OUR ASTEROIDS IS MISSING by Calvin M. Knox +_and_ THE TWISTED MEN by A. E. van Vogt + +F-255 THE PRODIGAL SUN by Philip E. High + +F-257 ALIEN PLANET by Fletcher Pratt + +F-259 PRINCE OF PERIL by Otis Adelbert Kline + +F-261 THE TOWERS OF TORON by Samuel R. Delany +_and_ THE LUNAR EYE by Robt. M. Williams + +F-263 WEB OF THE WITCH WORLD by Andre Norton + + +If you are missing any of these, they can be obtained directly from +the publisher by sending the indicated sum, plus 5 cent handling fee, to +Ace Books, Inc. (Dept. M M), 1120 Avenue of the Americas, New York, +N.Y. 10036 + +"Is there really a Merlin?" + +Everybody on the war-torn planet Poictesme believed it existed. And +they all believed that when this super-gigantic computer was located +amid the mountains of surplus equipment that was the planet's sole +source of revenue, it would mean Utopia for everyone. + +Conn Maxwell knew different. He had studied the records on Earth and +he thought he knew the true facts about this cosmic computer. To tell +them would be to panic Poictesme, so instead he set about a new search +in his own way--with startling results. + +H. Beam Piper, author of SPACE VIKING, has again produced an original +and unusual novel of the space future. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cosmic Computer, by Henry Beam Piper + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COSMIC COMPUTER *** + +***** This file should be named 20727.txt or 20727.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/2/20727/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bethanne M. Simms, Jason Isbell, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/20727.zip b/20727.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..18215f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/20727.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..61bd0a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #20727 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20727) |
