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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/35204-h.zip b/35204-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de0b3b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/35204-h.zip diff --git a/35204-h/35204-h.htm b/35204-h/35204-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0145001 --- /dev/null +++ b/35204-h/35204-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6003 @@ +<!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 name="generator" content= + "HTML Tidy for Linux/x86 (vers 11 February 2007), see www.w3.org" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=us-ascii" /> + + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sense of Obligation, by Harry Harrison.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em; font-size:100%;} + h1,h2 { text-align: center; clear: both;} + h5 { text-align: right; clear: both;} + hr { width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + ins.correction {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + .tr { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + .pagenum { position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: 80%; text-align: right;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense of Obligation, by +Henry Maxwell Dempsey (AKA Harry Harrison) + +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: Sense of Obligation + +Author: Henry Maxwell Dempsey (AKA Harry Harrison) + +Release Date: February 7, 2011 [EBook #35204] +[Last updated: May 26, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE OF OBLIGATION *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Adam Styles and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <div class="tr"> + <p class="center">Transcribers Note:</p> + + <p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction + September, October, November 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence + that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Page numbers jump between + issues since they reflect the original magazine pages. Corrections are presented + inline.</p> + </div> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="347" + height="491" alt= + "Cover of Analogue Science Fact & Fiction, September 1961" /></div> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Part I]<br /> + [Pg 8]</a></span></p> + + <h1>SENSE<br /> + OF OBLIGATION</h1> + + <h2>By HARRY HARRISON</h2> + + <div class="blockquot"> + <p><i>It took a very special type of man for the job—and + the job was onerous, dangerous, and the only really probable reward was disaster. But + when a man who says he knows it's going to kill him asks you to join....</i></p> + + <h5>Illustrated by von Dongen</h5> + </div> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image1.jpg" width="600" + height="258" alt="Frontispiece" /></div> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p><i>A man said to the universe:<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Sir, I exist!"</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">"However," replied the universe,</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">"The fact has not created in me</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A sense of obligation."</span></i><br /></p> + + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Stephen Crane</span></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><img style="float:left;" src="images/image2.jpg" width="48" height="47" alt="S" /><span class='smcap'>weat</span> covered Brion's body, trickling into the tight + loincloth that was the only garment he wore. The light fencing foil in his hand felt as + heavy as a bar of lead to his exhausted muscles, worn out by a month of continual + exercise. These things were of no importance. The cut on his chest, still dripping + blood, the ache of his overstrained eyes—even the soaring arena around him with + the thousands of spectators—were trivialities not worth thinking about. There was + only one thing in his universe: the button-tipped length of shining steel that hovered + before him, engaging his own weapon. He felt the quiver and scrape of its life, knew + when it moved and moved himself to counteract it. And when he attacked, it was always + there to beat him aside.</p> + + <p>A sudden motion. He reacted—but his blade just met air. His instant of panic + was followed by a small sharp blow high on his chest.</p> + + <p>"<i>Touch!</i>" A world-shaking voice bellowed the word to a million waiting + loud-speakers, and the applause of the audience echoed back in a wave of sound.</p> + + <p>"One minute," a voice said, and the time buzzer sounded.</p> + + <p>Brion had carefully conditioned the reflex in himself. A minute is <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>not a very large measure of + time and his body needed every fraction of it. The buzzer's whirr triggered his muscles + into complete relaxation. Only his heart and lungs worked on at a strong, measured + rate. His eyes closed and he was only distantly aware of his handlers catching him as + he fell, carrying him to his bench. While they massaged his limp body and cleansed the + wound, all of his attention was turned inward. He was in reverie, sliding along the + borders of consciousness. The nagging memory of the previous night loomed up then, and + he turned it over and over in his mind, examining it from all sides.</p> + + <p>It was the very unexpectedness of the event that had been so unusual. The + contestants in the Twenties needed undisturbed rest, therefore nights in the + dormitories were quiet as death. During the first few days, of course, the rule wasn't + observed too closely. The men themselves were too keyed up and excited to rest easily. + But as soon as the scores begin to mount and eliminations cut into their ranks, there + is complete silence after dark. Particularly so on this last night, when only two of + the little cubicles were occupied, the thousands of others standing with dark, empty + doors.</p> + + <p>Angry words had dragged Brion from a deep and exhausted sleep. The words were + whispered but clear, two voices, just outside the thin metal of his door. Someone spoke + his name.</p> + + <p>"... Brion Brandd. Of course not. Whoever said you could was making a big mistake + and there is going to be trouble—"</p> + + <p>"Don't talk like an idiot!" This other voice snapped with a harsh urgency, clearly + used to command. "I'm here because the matter is of utmost importance, and Brandd is + the one I must see. Now stand aside!"</p> + + <p>"The Twenties—"</p> + + <p>"I don't give a damn about your games, hearty cheers and physical exercises. This is + <i>important</i> or I wouldn't be here!"</p> + + <p>The other didn't speak—he was surely one of the officials—and Brion + could sense his outraged anger. He must have drawn his gun, because the other man said + quickly, "Put that away. You're being a fool!"</p> + + <p>"Out!" was the single snarled word of the response. There was silence then and, + still wondering, Brion was once more asleep.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"Ten seconds."</p> + + <p>The voice chopped away Brion's memories and he let awareness seep back into his + body. He was unhappily conscious of his total exhaustion. The month of continuous + mental and physical combat had taken its toll. It would be hard to stay on his feet, + much less summon the strength and skill to fight and win a touch.</p> + + <p>"How do we stand?" he asked the handler who was kneading his aching muscles.</p> + + <p>"Four ... four. All you need is a touch to win!"</p> + + <p>"That's all he needs, too," Brion grunted, opening his eyes to look at the wiry + length of the man at the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg + 11]</a></span>other end of the long mat. No one who had reached the finals in the + Twenties could possibly be a weak opponent, but this one, Irolg, was the pick of the + lot. A red-haired, mountain of a man, with an apparently inexhaustible store of energy. + That was really all that counted now. There could be little art in this last and final + round of fencing. Just thrust and parry, and victory to the stronger.</p> + + <p>Brion closed his eyes again and knew the moment he had been hoping to avoid had + arrived.</p> + + <p>Every man who entered the Twenties had his own training tricks. Brion had a few + individual ones that had helped him so far. He was a moderately strong chess player, + but he had moved to quick victory in the chess rounds by playing incredibly unorthodox + games. This was no accident, but the result of years of work. He had a standing order + with offplanet agents for archaic chess books, the older the better. He had memorized + thousands of these ancient games and openings. This was allowed. Anything was allowed + that didn't involve drugs or machines. Self-hypnosis was an accepted tool.</p> + + <p>It had taken Brion over two years to find a way to tap the sources of hysterical + strength. Common as the phenomenon seemed to be in the textbooks, it proved impossible + to duplicate. There appeared to be an immediate association with the death-trauma, as + if the two were inextricably linked into one. Berserkers and juramentados continue to + fight and kill though carved by scores of mortal wounds. Men with bullets in the heart + or brain fight on, though already clinically dead. Death seemed an inescapable part of + this kind of strength. But there was another type that could easily be brought about in + any deep trance—hypnotic rigidity. The strength that enables someone in a trance + to hold his body stiff and unsupported except at two points, the head and heels. This + is physically impossible when conscious. Working with this as a clue, Brion had + developed a self-hypnotic technique that allowed him to tap these reservoirs of unknown + strength. The source of "second wind," the survival strength that made the difference + between life and death.</p> + + <p>It could also kill. Exhaust the body beyond hope of recovery, particularly when in a + weakened condition as his was now. But that wasn't important. Others had died before + during the Twenties, and death during the last round was in some ways easier than + defeat.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Breathing deeply, Brion softly spoke the auto-hypnotic phrases that triggered the + process. Fatigue fell softly from him, as did all sensations of heat, cold and pain. He + could feel with acute sensitivity, hear, and see clearly when he opened his eyes.</p> + + <p>With each passing second the power drew at the basic reserves of life, draining it + from his body.</p> + + <p>When the buzzer sounded he pulled his foil from his second's <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>startled grasp, and ran + forward. Irolg had barely time to grab up his own weapon and parry Brion's first + thrust. The force of his rush was so great that the guards on their weapons locked, and + their bodies crashed together. Irolg looked amazed at the sudden fury of the + attack—then smiled. He thought it was a last burst of energy, he knew how close + they both were to exhaustion. This must be the end for Brion.</p> + + <p>They disengaged and Irolg put up a solid defense. He didn't attempt to attack, just + let Brion wear himself out against the firm shield of his defense.</p> + + <p>Brion saw something close to panic on his opponent's face when the man finally + recognized his error. Brion wasn't tiring. If anything he was pressing the attack. A + wave of despair rolled out from Irolg—Brion sensed it and knew the fifth point + was his.</p> + + <p>Thrust—thrust—and each time the parrying sword a little slower to + return. Then the powerful twist that thrust it aside. In and under the guard. The slap + of the button on flesh and the arc of steel that reached out and ended on Irolg's chest + over his heart.</p> + + <p>Waves of sound—cheering and screaming—lapped against Brion's private + world, but he was only remotely aware of their existence. Irolg dropped his foil, and + tried to shake Brion's hand, but his legs suddenly gave way. Brion had an arm around + him, holding him up, walking towards the rushing handlers. Then Irolg was gone and he + waved off his own men, walking slowly by himself.</p> + + <p>Except something was wrong and it was like walking through warm glue. Walking on his + knees. No, not walking, falling. At last. He was able to let go and fall.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + <p>Ihjel gave the doctors exactly one day before he went to the hospital. Brion wasn't + dead, though there had been some doubt about that the night before. Now, a full day + later, he was on the mend and that was all Ihjel wanted to know. He bullied and + strong-armed his way to the new Winner's room, meeting his first stiff resistance at + the door.</p> + + <p>"You're out of order, Winner Ihjel," the doctor said. "And if you keep on forcing + yourself in here, where you are not wanted, rank or no rank I shall be obliged to break + your head."</p> + + <p>Ihjel had just begun to tell him, in some detail, just how slim his chances were of + accomplishing that, when Brion interrupted them both. He recognized the newcomer's + voice from the final night in the barracks.</p> + + <p>"Let him in, Dr. Caulry," he said. "I want to meet a man who thinks there is + something more important than the Twenties."</p> + + <p>While the doctor stood undecided, Ihjel moved quickly around him and closed the door + in his flushed face. He looked down at the Winner in the bed. There was a drip plugged + into each one of Brion's arms. His <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id= + "Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>eyes peered from sooty hollows; the eyeballs were a network + of red veins. The silent battle he fought against death had left its mark. His square, + jutting jaw now seemed all bone, as did his long nose and high cheekbones. They were + prominent landmarks rising from the limp grayness of his skin. Only the erect bristle + of his close-cropped hair was unchanged. He had the appearance of having suffered a + long and wasting illness.</p> + + <p>"You look like sin," Ihjel said. "But congratulations on your victory."</p> + + <p>"You don't look so very good yourself—for a Winner," Brion snapped back. His + exhaustion and sudden peevish anger at this man let the insulting words slip out. Ihjel + ignored them.</p> + + <p>But it was true, Winner Ihjel looked very little like a Winner, or even an + Anvharian. He had the height and the frame all right, but it was draped in billows of + fat. Rounded, soft tissue that hung loosely from his limbs and made little limp rolls + on his neck and under his eyes. There were no fat men on Anvhar and it was incredible + that a man so gross could ever have been a Winner. If there was muscle under the fat, + it couldn't be seen. Only his eyes appeared to still hold the strength that had once + bested every man on the planet to win the annual games. Brion turned away from their + burning stare, sorry now he had insulted the man without good reason. He was too sick + though to bother about apologizing.</p> + + <p>Ihjel didn't care either. Brion looked at him again and felt the impression of + things so important that himself, his insults, even the Twenties were of no more + interest than dust motes in the air. It was only a fantasy of sick mind, Brion knew, + and he tried to shake the feeling off. The two men stared at each other, sharing a + common emotion.</p> + + <p>The door opened soundlessly behind Ihjel and he wheeled about, moving as only an + athlete of Anvhar can move. Dr. Caulry was halfway through the door, off balance. Two + more men in uniform came close behind him. Ihjel's body pushed against them, his speed + and the mountainous mass of his flesh sending them back in a tangle of arms and legs. + He slammed the door and locked it in their faces.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"I have to talk to you," he said, turning back to Brion. "Privately," he added, + bending over and ripping out the communicator with a sweep of one hand.</p> + + <p>"Get out," Brion told him. "If I were able—"</p> + + <p>"Well you're not, so you're just going to have to lie there and listen. I imagine we + have about five minutes before they decide to break the door down, and I don't want to + waste any more of that. Will you come with me offworld? There's a job that must be + done, it's my job but I'm going to need help. You're the only one who can give me that + help.</p> + + <p>"Now refuse," he added as Brion started to answer.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Of course I refuse," Brion said, feeling a little foolish and slightly angry, as if + the other man had put the words into his mouth. "Anvhar is my planet—why should I + leave? My life is here and so is my work. I also might add that I have just won the + Twenties, I have a responsibility to remain."</p> + + <p>"Nonsense. I'm a Winner and I left. What you really mean is you would like to enjoy + a little of the ego-inflation you have worked so hard to get. Off Anvhar no one even + knows what a Winner is—much less respects one. You have to face a big universe + out there and I don't blame you for being a little frightened."</p> + + <p>Someone was hammering loudly on the door.</p> + + <p>"I haven't the strength to get angry," Brion said hoarsely. "And I can't bring + myself to admire your ideas when they permit you to insult a man too ill to defend + himself."</p> + + <p>"I apologize," Ihjel said, with no hint of apology or sympathy in his voice. "But + there are more desperate issues involved other than your hurt feelings. We don't have + much time now, so I want to impress you with an idea."</p> + + <p>"An idea that will convince me to go offplanet with you? That's expecting a + lot."</p> + + <p>"No, this idea won't convince you—but thinking about it will. If you really + <i>consider</i> it you will find a lot of your illusions shattered. Like everyone else + on Anvhar you're a Scientific Humanist with your faith firmly planted in the Twenties. + You accept both of those noble institutions without an instant's thought. All of you + haven't a single thought for the past, for the untold billions who led the bad life as + mankind slowly built up the good life for you to lead. Do you ever think of all the + people who suffered and died in misery and superstition while civilization was clicking + forward one more slow notch?"</p> + + <p>"Of course I don't think about them," Brion snapped back. "Why should I? I can't + change the past."</p> + + <p>"But you can change the future!" Ihjel said. "You owe something to the suffering + ancestors who got you where you are today. If Scientific Humanism means anything more + than plain words to you, you must possess a sense of responsibility. Don't you want to + try and pay off a bit of this debt by helping others who are just as backward and + disease ridden today as great-grandfather Troglodyte ever was?"</p> + + <p>The hammering on the door was louder, this and the drug-induced buzzing in Brion's + ears made thinking difficult. "Abstractedly I, of course, agree with you," he said + haltingly. "But you know there is nothing I can do personally without being emotionally + involved. A logical decision is valueless for action without personal meaning."</p> + + <p>"Then we have reached the crux of the matter," Ihjel said gently. His back was + braced against the door, absorbing the thudding blows of some heavy object on the + outside. "They're <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg + 15]</a></span>knocking, so I must be going soon. I have no time for details, but I can + assure you, upon my word of honor as a Winner, that there is something you can do. Only + you. If you help me, we might save seven million human lives. That is a fact...."</p> + + <p>The lock burst and the door started to open. Ihjel shouldered it back into the frame + for a final instant.</p> + + <p>"... Here is the idea I want you to consider: Why is it that the people of Anvhar in + a galaxy filled with warring, hate-filled, backward planets, should be the only ones + who base their entire existence on a complicated series of games?"</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + <p>This time there was no way to hold the door. Ihjel didn't try. He stepped aside and + two men stumbled into the room. He walked out behind their backs without saying a + word.</p> + + <p>"What happened? What did he do?" the doctor asked, rushing in through the ruined + door. He swept a glance over the continuous recording dials at the foot of Brion's bed. + Respiration, temperature, heart, blood pressure—all were normal. The patient lay + quietly and didn't answer him.</p> + + <p>For the rest of that day, Brion had much to think about. It was difficult. The + fatigue, mixed with the tranquilizers and other drugs had softened his contact with + reality. His thoughts kept echoing back and forth in his mind, unable to escape. What + had Ihjel meant? What was that nonsense about Anvhar? Anvhar was that way because ... + well it just was. It had come about naturally. Or had it? The planet had a very simple + history.</p> + + <p>From the very beginning there had never been anything of real commercial interest on + Anvhar. Well off the interstellar trade routes, there were no minerals worth digging + and transporting the immense distances to the nearest inhabited worlds. Hunting the + winter beasts for their pelts was a profitable but very minor enterprise, never + sufficient for mass markets. Therefore no organized attempt had ever been made to + colonize the planet. In the end it had been settled completely by chance. A number of + offplanet scientific groups had established observation and research stations, finding + unlimited data to observe and record during Anvhar's unusual yearly cycle. The + long-duration observations encouraged the scientific workers to bring their families + and, slowly but steadily, small settlements grew up. Many of the fur hunters settled + there as well, adding to the small population. This had been the beginning.</p> + + <p>Few records existed of those early days, and the first six centuries of Anvharian + history were more speculation than fact. The Breakdown occurred about that time and in + the galaxy-wide disruption, Anvhar had to fight its own internal battle. When the Earth + Empire collapsed it was the end of more than an era. Many of the observation stations + found themselves representing institutions <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id= + "Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>that no longer existed. The professional hunters no longer + had markets for their furs, since Anvhar possessed no interstellar ships of its own. + There had been no real physical hardship involved in the Breakdown, as it affected + Anvhar, since the planet was completely self sufficient. Once they had made the mental + adjustment to the fact that they were now a sovereign world, not a collection of casual + visitors with various loyalties, life continued unchanged. Not easy—living on + Anvhar is never easy—but at least without difference on the surface.</p> + + <p>The thoughts and attitudes of the people were however going through a great + transformation. Many attempts were made to develop some form of stable society and + social relationship. Again little record exists of these early trials, other than the + fact of their culmination in the Twenties.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 213px;"><img src="images/image3.jpg" width="213" + height="600" alt="Fencing" /></div> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>To understand the Twenties, you have to understand the unusual orbit that Anvhar + tracks around its sun, 70 Ophiuchi. There are other planets in this system, all of them + more or less conforming to the plane of the ecliptic. Anvhar is obviously a rogue, + perhaps a captured planet of another sun. For the greatest part of its 780-day year it + arcs far out from its primary, in a high-angled sweeping cometary orbit. When it + returns there is a brief, hot summer of approximately eighty days before the long + winter sets in once more. This severe difference in seasonal change has <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>caused profound adaptations + in the native life forms. During the winter most of the animals hibernate, the + vegetable life lying dormant as spores or seeds. Some of the warm-blooded herbivores + stay active in the snow-covered tropics, preyed upon by fur-insulated carnivores. + Though unbelievably cold, the winter is a season of peace in comparison to the + summer.</p> + + <p>This is a time of mad growth. Plants burst into life with a strength that cracks + rocks, growing fast enough for the motion to be seen. The snow fields melt into mud and + within days a jungle stretches high into the air. Everything grows, swells, + proliferates. Plants climb on top of plants, fighting for the life-energy of the sun. + Everything is eat and be eaten, grow and thrive in the short season. Because when the + first snow of winter falls again, ninety per cent of the year must pass until the next + coming of warmth.</p> + + <p>Mankind has had to adapt to the Anvharian cycle in order to stay alive. Food must be + gathered and stored, enough to last out the long winter. Generation after generation + had adapted until they look on the mad seasonal imbalance as something quite ordinary. + The first thaw of almost-nonexistent spring triggers a wide reaching metabolic change + in the humans. Layers of subcutaneous fat vanish and half-dormant sweat glands come to + life. Other changes are more subtle than the temperature adjustment, but equally + important. The sleep center of the brain is depressed. Short naps or a night's rest + every third or fourth day become enough. Life takes on a hectic and hysterical quality + that is perfectly suited to the environment. By the time of the first frost, rapid + growing crops have been raised and harvested, sides of meat either preserved or frozen + in mammoth lockers. With his supreme talent of adaptability mankind has become part of + the ecology and guaranteed his own survival during the long winter.</p> + + <p>Physical survival has been guaranteed. But what about mental survival? Primitive + Earth Eskimos can fall into a long doze of half-conscious hibernation. Civilized men + might be able to do this, but only for the few cold months of terrestrial mid-winter. + It would be impossible to do during a winter that is longer than an Earth year. With + all the physical needs taken care of, boredom became the enemy of any Anvharian who was + not a hunter. And even the hunters could not stay out on solitary trek all winter. + Drink was one answer and violence another. Alcoholism and murder were the twin terrors + of the cold season, after the Breakdown.</p> + + <p>It was the Twenties that ended all that. When they became a part of normal life the + summer was considered just an interlude between games. The Twenties were more than just + a contest—they became a way of life that satisfied all the physical, competitive + and intellectual needs of this unusual planet. They were a decathlon—rather a + doubled decathlon—raised <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg + 18]</a></span>to its highest power, where contests in chess and poetry composition held + equal place with those in ski-jumping and archery. Each year there were two planet-wide + contests held, one for men and one for women. This was not an attempt at sexual + discrimination, but a logical facing of facts. Inherent differences prevented fair + contests—for example, it is impossible for a woman to win a large chess + tournament—and this fact was recognized. Anyone could enter for any number of + years, there were no scoring handicaps.</p> + + <p>When the best man won he was really the best man. A complicated series of playoffs + and eliminations kept contestants and observers busy for half the winter. They were + only preliminary to the final encounter that lasted a month, and picked a single + winner. That was the title he was awarded. Winner. The man—and woman—who + had bested every other contestant on the entire planet and who would remain + unchallenged until the following year.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Winner. It was a title to take pride in. Brion stirred weakly on his bed and managed + to turn so he could look out of the window. Winner of Anvhar. His name was already + slated for the history books, one of the handful of planetary heroes. School children + would be studying him now, just as he had read of the Winners of the past. Weaving + daydreams and imaginary adventures around Brion's victories, hoping and fighting so + some day equal them. To be a Winner was the greatest honor in the universe.</p> + + <p>Outside, the afternoon sun shimmered weakly in a dark sky. The endless icefields + soaked up the dim light, reflecting it back as a colder and harsher illumination. A + single figure on skis cut a line across the empty plain; nothing else moved. The + depression of the ultimate fatigue fell on Brion and everything changed, as if he + looked in a mirror at a previously hidden side.</p> + + <p>He saw suddenly—with terrible clarity—that to be a Winner was to be + absolutely nothing. Like being the best flea, among all the fleas on a single dog.</p> + + <p>What was Anvhar after all? An ice-locked planet, inhabited by a few million human + fleas, unknown and unconsidered by the rest of the galaxy. There was nothing here worth + fighting for, the wars after the Breakdown had left them untouched. The Anvharian had + always taken pride in this—as if being so unimportant that no one else even + wanted to come near you, could possibly be a source of pride. All the worlds of man + grew, fought, won, lost, changed. Only on Anvhar did life repeat its sameness + endlessly, like a loop of tape in a player....</p> + + <p>Brion's eyes were moist, he blinked. <i>Tears!!</i> Realization of this incredible + fact wiped the maudlin pity from his mind and replaced it with fear. Had his mind + snapped in the strain of the last match? These thoughts weren't his. Self-pity hadn't + made him a Winner—why was he feeling <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id= + "Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>it now? Anvhar was his universe—how could he even + imagine it as a tag-end planet at the outer limb of creation? What had come over him + and induced this inverse thinking.</p> + + <p>As he thought the question, the answer appeared at the same instant. Winner Ihjel. + The fat man with the strange pronouncements and probing questions. Had he cast a spell + like some sorcerer—or the devil in "Faust"? No, that was pure nonsense. But he + had done something. Perhaps planted a suggestion when Brion's resistance was low. Or + used subliminal vocalization like the villain in "Cerebrus Chained." Brion could find + no adequate reason on which to base his suspicions. But he knew that Ihjel was + responsible.</p> + + <p>He whistled at the sound-switch next to his pillow and the repaired communicator + came to life. The duty nurse appeared in the small screen.</p> + + <p>"The man who was here today," Brion said, "Winner Ihjel, do you know where he is? I + must contact him."</p> + + <p>For some reason this flustered her professional calm. The nurse started to answer, + excused herself, and blanked the screen. When it lit again a man in Guard's uniform had + taken her place.</p> + + <p>"You made an inquiry," the Guard said, "about Winner Ihjel. We are holding him here + in the hospital following the disgraceful way in which he broke into your room."</p> + + <p>"I have no charges to make. Will you ask him to come and see me at once?"</p> + + <p>The Guard controlled his shock. "I'm sorry, Winner—I don't see how we can. Dr. + Caulry left specific orders that you were not to be—"</p> + + <p>"The doctor has no control over my personal life," Brion snapped at him. "I'm not + infectious, or ill with anything more than extreme fatigue. I want to see that man. At + once."</p> + + <p>The Guard took a deep breath, and made a quick decision. "He is on the way up now," + he said, and rung off.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"What did you do to me?" Brion asked as soon as Ihjel had <ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'enter'">entered</ins> and they were alone. + "You won't deny that you have put alien thoughts in my head?"</p> + + <p>"No, I won't deny it. Because the whole point of my being here is to get those + 'alien' thoughts across to you."</p> + + <p>"Tell me how you did it," Brion insisted. "I must know."</p> + + <p>"I'll tell you—but there are many things you should understand first, before + you decide to leave Anvhar. You must not only hear them, you will have to believe them. + The primary thing, the clue to the rest, is the true nature of your life here. How do + you think the Twenties originated?"</p> + + <p>Brion carefully took a double dose of the mild stimulant he was allowed before he + answered. "I don't think," he said, "I know. It's a matter of historical record. The + founder of the games was Giroldi, the first contest was held in 378 A.B. The Twenties + have been held every year <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg + 20]</a></span>since then. They were strictly local affairs in the beginning, but were + soon well established on a planet-wide scale."</p> + + <p>"True enough," Ihjel said, "but you're describing <i>what</i> happened. I asked you + <i>how</i> the Twenties originated. How could any single man take a barbarian planet, + lightly inhabited by half-mad hunters and alcoholic farmers, and turn it into a + smooth-running social machine built around the artificial structure of the Twenties? It + just can't be done."</p> + + <p>"But it was done!" Brion insisted. "You can't deny that. And there is nothing + artificial about the Twenties. They are a logical way to live a life on a planet like + this."</p> + + <p>Ihjel had to laugh, a short ironic bark. "Very logical," he said, "but how often + does logic have anything to do with the organization of social groups and governments? + You're not thinking. Put yourself in founder Giroldi's place. Imagine that you have + glimpsed the great idea of the Twenties and you want to convince others. So you walk up + to the nearest louse-ridden, brawling, superstitious, booze-embalmed hunter and explain + clearly. How a program of his favorite sports—things like poetry, archery and + chess—can make his life that much more interesting and virtuous. You do that. But + keep your eyes open and be ready for a fast draw."</p> + + <p>Even Brion had to smile at the absurdity of the suggestion. Of course it couldn't + happen that way. Yet, since it had happened, there must be a simple explanation.</p> + + <p>"We can beat this back and forth all day," Ihjel told him, "and you won't get the + right idea unless—" He broke off suddenly, staring at the communicator. The + operation light had come on, though the screen stayed dark. Ihjel reached down a meaty + hand and pulled loose the recently connected wires. "That doctor of yours is very + curious—and he's going to stay that way. The truth behind the Twenties is none of + his business. But it's going to be yours. You must come to realize that the life you + lead here is a complete and artificial construction, developed by Societics experts and + put into application by skilled field workers."</p> + + <p>"Nonsense!" Brion broke in. "Systems of society can't be dreamed up and forced on + people like that. Not without bloodshed and violence."</p> + + <p>"Nonsense, yourself," Ihjel told him. "That may have been true in the dawn of + history, but not any more. You have been reading too many of the old Earth classics, + you imagine that we still live in the Ages of Superstition. Just because Fascism and + Communism were once forced on reluctant populations, you think this holds true for all + time. Go back to your books. In exactly the same era democracy and self-government were + adapted by former colonial states, like India and the Union of North Africa, and the + only violence was between local religious groups. Change is the lifeblood of mankind. + Everything we today accept as normal was at one time an <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>innovation. And one of the most recent + innovations is the attempt to guide the societies of mankind into something more + consistent with the personal happiness of individuals."</p> + + <p>"The God complex," Brion said, "forcing human lives into a mold whether they want to + be fitted into it or not."</p> + + <p>"Societics can be that," Ihjel agreed. "It was in the beginning, and there were some + disastrous results of attempts to force populations into a political climate where they + didn't belong. They weren't all failures—Anvhar here is a striking example of how + good the technique can be when correctly applied. It's not done this way anymore, + though. Like all of the other sciences, we have found out that the more we know, the + more there is to know. We no longer attempt to guide cultures towards what we consider + a beneficial goal. There are too many goals, and from our limited vantage point it is + hard to tell the good ones from the bad ones. All we do now is try to protect the + growing cultures, give a little jolt to the stagnating ones—and bury the dead + ones. When the work was first done here on Anvhar the theory hadn't progressed that + far. The understandably complex equations that determine just where in the scale from a + Type I to a Type V a culture is, had not yet been completed. The technique then was to + work out an artificial culture that would be most beneficial for a planet, then bend it + into the mold."</p> + + <p>"But how?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"We've made some progress—you're finally asking 'how'. The technique here took + a good number of agents, and a great deal of money. Personal honor was emphasized in + order to encourage dueling, this led to a heightened interest in the technique of + personal combat. When this was well intrenched Giroldi was brought in, and he showed + how organized competitions could be more interesting than haphazard encounters. Tying + the intellectual aspects onto the framework of competitive sports was a little more + difficult, but not overwhelmingly so. The details aren't important, all we are + considering now is the end product. Which is you. You're needed very much."</p> + + <p>"Why me?" Brion asked. "Why am I special? Because I won the Twenties? I can't + believe that. Taken objectively there isn't that much difference between myself and the + ten runners-up. Why don't you ask one of them—they could do your job as well as + I."</p> + + <p>"No they couldn't. I'll tell you later why you are the only man I can use. Our time + is running out and I must convince you of some other things first." Ihjel glanced at + his watch. "We have less than three hours to dead-deadline. Before that time I must + explain enough of our work to you to enable you to decide voluntarily to join us."</p> + + <p>"A very tall order," Brion said. "You might begin by telling me just who this + mysterious 'we' is that you keep referring to."</p> + + <p>"The Cultural Relationships Foundation. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id= + "Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>A nongovernmental body, privately endowed, existing to + promote peace and ensure the sovereign welfare of independent <ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'plants'">planets</ins>, so that all will + prosper from the good will and commerce thereby engendered."</p> + + <p>"Sounds like you're quoting," Brion told him. "No one could possibly make up + something that sounds like that on the spur of the moment."</p> + + <p>"I was quoting from our charter of organization. Which is all very fine in a general + sense, but I'm talking specifically now. About you. You are the product of a tightly + knit and very advanced society. Your individuality has been encouraged by your growing + up in a society so small in population that only a mild form of government control is + necessary. The normal Anvharian education is an excellent one, and participation in the + Twenties has given you a general and advanced education second to none in the galaxy. + It would be a complete waste of your entire life if you now took all this training and + wasted it on some rustic farm."</p> + + <p>"You give me very little credit. I plan to teach—"</p> + + <p>"Forget Anvhar!" Ihjel cut him off with a chop of his hand. "This world will roll on + quite successfully whether you are here or not. You must forget it, think of its + relative unimportance on a galactic scale, and consider instead the existing, + suffering, hordes of mankind. You must think what you can do to help them."</p> + + <p>"But what can I do—as an individual? The day is long past when a single man, + like Caesar or Alexander, could bring about world-shaking changes."</p> + + <p>"True—but not true," Ihjel said. "There are key men in every conflict of + forces, men who act like catalysts applied at the right instant to start a chemical + reaction. You might be one of those men, but I must be honest and say that I can't + prove it yet. So in order to save time and endless discussion, I think I will have to + spark your personal sense of obligation."</p> + + <p>"Obligation to whom?"</p> + + <p>"To mankind of course, to the countless billions of dead who kept the whole machine + rolling along that allows you the full, long and happy life you enjoy today. What they + gave to you, you must pass on to others. This is the keystone of humanistic + morals."</p> + + <p>"Agreed. And a very good argument in the long run. But not one that is going to + tempt me out of this bed within the next three hours."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"A point of success," Ihjel said. "You agree with the general argument. Now I apply + it specifically to you. Here is the statement I intend to prove. There exists a planet + with a population of seven million people. Unless I can prevent it, this planet will be + completely destroyed. It is my job to stop that destruction, so that is where I am + going now. I won't be able to do the job alone. In addition to others I need you. Not + anyone like you—but you and you alone."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 414px;"><img src="images/image4.jpg" width="414" + height="600" alt="" /></div> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + + <p>"You have precious little time left to convince me of all that," Brion told him, "so + let me make the job easier for you. The work you do, this planet, the imminent danger + of the people there—these are all facts that you can undoubtedly supply. I'll + take a chance that this whole thing is not a <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'collossal'">colossal</ins> bluff and admit that + given time, you could verify them all. This brings the argument back to me again. How + can you possibly prove that I am the only person in the galaxy who can help you?"</p> + + <p>"I can prove it by your singular ability, the thing I came here to find."</p> + + <p>"What ability? I am different in no way from the other men on my planet."</p> + + <p>"You're wrong," Ihjel said. "You are the embodied proof of evolution. Rare + individuals with specific talents occur constantly in any <ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'specie'">species</ins>, man included. It has + been two generations since an empathetic was last born on Anvhar and I have been + watching carefully most of that time."</p> + + <p>"What in blazes is an empathetic—and how <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: 'do' omitted in original">do</ins> you recognize it when you have + found it?" Brion chuckled, this talk was getting preposterous.</p> + + <p>"I can recognize one because I'm one myself—there is no other way. As to how + projective empathy works, you had a demonstration of that a little earlier, when you + felt those strange thoughts about Anvhar. It will be a long time before you can master + that, but receptive empathy is your natural trait. This is mentally entering into the + feeling, or what could be called the spirit of another person. Empathy is not thought + perception, it might better be described as the sensing of someone else's emotional + makeup, feelings and attitudes. You can't lie to a trained empathetic because he can + sense the real attitude behind the verbal lies. Even your undeveloped talent has proved + immensely useful in the Twenties. You can outguess your opponent because you know his + movements even as his body tenses to make them. You accept this without ever + questioning it."</p> + + <p>"How do you know—?" This was Brion's understood, but never voiced secret.</p> + + <p>Ihjel smiled. "Just guessing. But I won the Twenties too, remember, also without + knowing a thing about empathy at the time. On top of our normal training, it's a + wonderful trait to have. Which brings me to the proof we mentioned a minute ago. When + you said you would be convinced if I could prove you were the only person who could + help me. I <i>believe</i> you are—and that is one thing I cannot lie about. It's + possible to lie about a belief verbally, to have a falsely based belief, or to change a + belief. But you can't lie about it to yourself.<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: closing double-quotes omitted in original">"</ins></p> + + <p>"Equally important—you can't lie about a belief to an empathetic. Would you + like to see how I feel about this? 'See' is a bad word—there is no vocabulary for + this kind of thing yet. Better, would you join me in my feelings? <ins class= + "correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'Seense'">Sense</ins> my + attitudes, memories and emotions just as I do?"</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + + <p>Brion tried to protest, but he was too late. The doors of his senses were pushed + wide and he was overwhelmed.</p> + + <p>"Dis ..." Ihjel said aloud. "Seven million people ... hydrogen bombs ... Brion + Brandd." These were just key words, land marks of association. With each one Brion felt + the rushing wave of the other man's emotions.</p> + + <p>There could be no lies here, Ihjel was right in that. This was the raw stuff that + feelings are made of, the basic reactions to the things and symbols of memory.</p> + + <p>DIS ... DIS ... DIS ... it was a word it was a planet and the word thundered like a + drum a drum the sound of its thunder surrounded and was</p> + + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">a wasteland a planet</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 3em;">of death a planet where</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">living was dying and</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">dying was very</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">better than</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 7em;">living</span><br /> + crude barbaric<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">backward miserable</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 3em;">dirty beneath</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">consideration</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">planet</span><br /> + <span style= + "margin-left: 5em;"><b><big><big><big>DIS</big></big></big></b></span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">hot burning scorching</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 3em;">wasteland of sands</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">and sands and sands and</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">sands that burned had burned</span><br /> + will burn forever<br /> + <br /> + the people of this planet so<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">crude dirty miserable barbaric</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 3em;">subhuman in-human less-than-human</span><br /> + but<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">they</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">were</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 3em;">going</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">to</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">be</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">DEAD</span><br /> + and DEAD they would be seven million<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">blackened corpses that</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">would blacken your dreams</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">all dreams dreams</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">forever because those</span><br /> + <span style= + "margin-left: 5.5em;">H Y D R O G E N B O M B S</span><br /> + + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">were waiting</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 7em;">to kill</span><br /> + them unless ... unless ... unless ...<br /> + you Ihjel stopped it you Ihjel<br /> + (DEATH) ... you (DEATH) ...<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">you (DEATH) alone couldn't do</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">it you (DEATH)</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">must have</span><br /></p> + + <p>BRION BRANDD wet-behind-the-ears-raw-untrained-Brion-Brand-to help-you he was the + only one in the galaxy who could finish the job....</p> + + <p>As the flow of sensation died away, Brion realized he was sprawled back weakly on + his pillows, soaked with sweat, washed with the memory of the raw emotion. Across from + him Ihjel sat with his face bowed into his hands. When he lifted his head Brion saw + within his eyes a shadow of the blackness he had just experienced.</p> + + <p>"Death," Brion said. "That terrible feeling of death. It wasn't just the people of + Dis who would die. It was something more personal."</p> + + <p>"Myself," Ihjel said, and behind <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id= + "Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>this simple word were the repeated echoes of night that + Brion had been made aware of with his newly recognized ability. "My own death, not too + far away. This is the wonderfully terrible price you must pay for your talent. + <i>Angst</i> is an inescapable part of empathy. It is a part of the whole unknown field + of psi phenomena that seems to be independent of time. Death is so traumatic and final + that it reverberates back along the time line. The closer I get, the more aware of it I + am. There is no exact feeling of date, just a rough location in time. That is the + horror of it. I <i>know</i> I will die soon after I get to Dis—and long before + the work there is finished. I know the job to be done there, and I know the men who + have already failed at it. I also know you are the only person who can possibly + complete the work I have started. Do you agree now? Will you come with me?"</p> + + <p>"Yes, of course," Brion said. "I'll go with you."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + <p>"I've never seen anyone quite as angry as that doctor," Brion said.</p> + + <p>"Can't blame him," Ihjel shifted his immense weight and grunted from the console, + where he was having a coded conversation with the ship's brain. He hit the keys + quickly, and read the answer from the screen. "You took away his medical moment of + glory. How many times in his life will he have a chance to nurse back to rugged smiling + health the triumphantly exhausted Winner of the Twenties?"</p> + + <p>"Not many, I imagine. The wonder of it is how you managed to convince him that you + and the ship here could take care of me as well as his hospital."</p> + + <p>"I could never convince him of that," Ihjel said. "But I and the Cultural + Relationships Foundation have some powerful friends on Anvhar. I'm forced to admit I + brought a little pressure to bear." He leaned back and read the course tape as it + streamed out of the printer. "We have a little time to spare, but I would rather spend + it waiting at the other end. We'll blast as soon as I have you tied down in a stasis + field."</p> + + <p>The completeness of the stasis field leaves no impression on the body or mind. In it + there is no weight, no pressure, no pain—no sensation of any kind. Except for a + stasis of very long duration, there is no sensation of time. To Brion's consciousness, + Ihjel flipped the switch off with a continuation of the same motion that had turned it + on. The ship was unchanged, only outside of the port was the red-shot blankness of jump + space.</p> + + <p>"How do you feel?" Ihjel asked.</p> + + <p>Apparently the ship was wondering the same thing. <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'It's'">Its</ins> detector unit, hovering + impatiently just outside of Brion's stasis field, darted down and settled on his + forearm. The doctor back on Anvhar had given the medical section of the ship's brain a + complete briefing. A quick check of a dozen factors of Brion's metabolism <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>was compared to the expected + norm. Apparently everything was going well, because the only reaction was the expected + injection of vitamins and glucose.</p> + + <p>"Can't say I'm feeling wonderful yet," Brion answered, levering himself higher on + the pillows. "But every day it's a bit better, steady progress."</p> + + <p>"I hope so, because we have about two weeks before we get to Dis. Think you'll be + back in shape by that time?"</p> + + <p>"No promises," Brion said, giving a tentative squeeze to one bicep. "It should be + enough time, though. Tomorrow I start mild exercise and that will tighten me up again. + Now—tell me more about Dis and what you have to do there."</p> + + <p>"I'm not going to do it twice, so just save your curiosity a while. We're heading + for a rendezvous-point now to pick up another operator. This is going to be a three-man + team, you, me and an exobiologist. As soon as he is aboard I'll do a complete briefing + for you both at the same time. What you can do now is get your head into the language + box and start working on your Disan. You'll want to speak it perfectly by the time we + touch down."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>With an autohypno for complete recall, Brion had no difficulty in mastering the + grammar and vocabulary of Disan. Pronunciation was a different matter altogether. + Almost all the word endings were swallowed, muffled or gargled. The language was rich + in glottal stops, clicks and guttural strangling sounds. Ihjel stayed in a different + part of the ship, when Brion used the voice mirror and analysis scope, claiming that + the awful noises interfered with his digestion.</p> + + <p>Their ship angled through jump-space along its calculated course. It kept its + fragile human cargo warm, fed them and supplied breathable air. It had orders to worry + about Brion's health, so it did, checking constantly against its recorded instructions + and noting his steady progress. Another part of the ship's brain counted microseconds + with moronic fixation, finally closing a relay when a predetermined number had expired + in its heart. A light flashed and a buzzer hummed gently but insistently.</p> + + <p>Ihjel yawned, put away the report he had been reading, and started for the control + room. He shuddered when he passed the room where Brion was listening to a playback of + his Disan efforts.</p> + + <p>"Turn off that dying brontosaurus and get strapped in," he called through the thin + door. "We're coming to the point of optimum possibility and we'll be dropping back into + normal space soon."</p> + + <p>The human mind can ponder the incredible distances between the stars, but cannot + possibly contain within itself a real understanding of them. Marked out on a man's hand + an inch is a large unit of measure. In interstellar space a cubical area with sides a + hundred-thousand miles long is a microscopically fine division. <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>Light crosses this distance + in a fraction of a second. To a ship moving with a relative speed far greater than that + of light, this measuring unit is even smaller. Theoretically it appears impossible to + find a particular area of this size. Technologically it was a repeatable miracle that + occurred too often to even be interesting.</p> + + <p>Brion and Ihjel were strapped in when the jump-drive cut off abruptly, lurching them + back into normal space and time. They didn't unstrap, just sat and looked at the dimly + distant pattern of stars. A single sun, of apparent fifth magnitude was their only + neighbor in this lost corner of the universe. They waited while the computer took + enough star sights to triangulate a position in three dimensions, muttering to itself + electronically while it did the countless calculations to find their position. A + warning bell chimed and the drive cut on and off so quickly the two acts seemed + simultaneous. This happened again, twice, before the brain was satisfied it had made as + good a fix as possible and flashed a NAVIGATION POWER OFF light. Ihjel unstrapped, + stretched and made them a meal.</p> + + <p>Ihjel had computed their passage time with criminally precise allowances. Less than + ten hours after they arrived a powerful signal blasted into their waiting receiver. + They strapped in again as the NAVIGATION POWER ON signal blinked insistently.</p> + + <p>A ship had paused in flight somewhere relatively near in the vast volume of space. + It had entered normal space just long enough to emit a signal of radio query on an + assigned wave length. Ihjel's ship had detected this and instantly responded with a + verifying signal. The passenger spacer had accepted this assurance and gracefully laid + a ten-foot metal egg in space. As soon as this had cleared its jump field the parent + ship vanished towards its destination, light-years away.</p> + + <p>Ihjel's ship climbed up the signal it had received. This signal had been recorded + and examined minutely. Angle, strength and Doppler movement were computed to find + course and distance. A few minutes of flight were enough to get within range of the far + weaker transmitter in the dropcapsule. Homing on this signal was so simple, a human + pilot could have done it himself. The shining sphere loomed up, then vanished out of + sight of the viewports as the ship rotated to bring the space lock into line. Magnetic + clamps cut in when they made contact.</p> + + <p>"Go down and let the bug-doctor in," Ihjel said. "I'll stay and monitor the board in + case of trouble."</p> + + <p>"What do I have to do?"</p> + + <p>"Get into a suit and open the outer lock. Most of the drop sphere is made of + inflatable metallic foil so don't bother to look for the entrance. Just cut a hole in + it with the oversize can opener you'll find in the tool box. After Dr. Morees gets + aboard jettison the thing. Only get the radio and locator unit out first—it gets + used again."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + + <p>The tool did look like a giant opener. Brion carefully felt the <ins class= + "correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'resiliant'">resilient</ins> + metal skin that covered the lock entrance, until he was sure there was nothing on the + other side. Then he jabbed the point through and cut a ragged hole in the thin foil. + Dr. Morees boiled out of the sphere, knocking Brion aside.</p> + + <p>"What's the matter?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>There was no radio on the other's suit, he couldn't answer. But he did shake his + fist angrily. The helmet ports were opaqued so there was no way to tell what expression + went with the gesture. Brion shrugged and turned back to salvaging the equipment pack, + pushing the punctured balloon free and sealing the lock. When pressure was pumped back + to ship-normal he cracked his helmet and motioned the other to do the same.</p> + + <p>"You're a pack of dirty lying dogs!" Dr. Morees said when the helmet came off. Brion + was completely baffled. Dr. Lea Morees had long dark hair, large eyes and a delicately + shaped mouth now taut with anger. Dr. Morees was a woman.</p> + + <p>"Are you the filthy swine responsible for this atrocity?" Lea asked menacingly.</p> + + <p>"In the control room," Brion said quickly, knowing when cowardice was much + preferable to valor. "A man named Ihjel. There's a lot of him to hate, you can have a + good time doing it. I just joined up myself—" He was talking to her back as she + stormed from the room. Brion hurried after her, not wanting to miss the first human + spark of interest in the trip to date.</p> + + <p>"Kidnaped! Lied to and forced against my will! There is no court in the galaxy that + won't give you the maximum sentence and I'll scream with pleasure as they roll your fat + body into solitary—"</p> + + <p>"They shouldn't have sent a woman," Ihjel said, completely ignoring her words. "I + asked for a highly-qualified exobiologist for a difficult assignment. Someone young and + tough enough to do field work under severe conditions. So the recruiting office sends + me the smallest female they can find, one who'll melt in the first rain."</p> + + <p>"I will not!" Lea shouted. "Female resiliency is a well known fact and I'm in far + better condition than the average woman. Which has nothing to do with what I'm telling + you. I was hired for a job in the university on Moller's World and signed a contract to + that effect. Then this bully of an agent tells me the contract has been changed, read + sub paragraph 189-C or some such nonsense, and I'll be transshipping. He stuffed me + into that suffocation basketball without a by-your-leave and they threw me overboard. + If that is not a violation of personal privacy—"</p> + + <p>"Cut a new course, Brion," Ihjel broke in. "Find the nearest settled planet and head + us there. We have to drop this woman and find a man for this job. We are going to what + is undoubtedly the most interesting planet an exobiologist ever conceived of, but we + need a man who can take <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg + 30]</a></span>orders and not faint when it gets too hot."</p> + + <p>Brion was lost. Ihjel had done all the navigating and Brion had no idea how to begin + a search like this.</p> + + <p>"Oh no you don't," Lea said. "You don't get rid of me that easily. I placed first in + my class and most of the five-hundred other students were male. This is only a man's + universe because the men say so. What is the name of this garden planet where we are + going?"</p> + + <p>"Dis. I'll give you a briefing as soon as I get this ship on course." He turned to + the controls and Lea slipped out of her suit and went into the lavatory to comb her + hair. Brion closed his mouth, aware suddenly it had been open for a long time. "Is that + what you call applied psychology?" he asked.</p> + + <p>"Not really. She was going to go along with the job in the end—since she did + sign the contract even if she didn't read the fine print—but not until she had + exhausted her feelings. I just shortened the process by switching her onto the + male-superiority hate. Most women, who succeed in normally masculine fields, have a + reflexive antipathy there, they have been hit on the head with it so much." He fed the + course tape into the console and scowled. "But there was a good chunk of truth in what + I said. I wanted a young, fit and highly qualified biologist from recruiting. I never + thought they would find a female one. And it's too late to send her back now. Dis is no + place for a woman."</p> + + <p>"Why?" Brion asked, as Lea appeared in the doorway.</p> + + <p>"Come inside, and I'll show you both," Ihjel said.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + <p>"Dis," Ihjel said, consulting a thick file. "Third planet out from its primary, + Epsilon Eridani. The fourth planet is Nyjord—remember <ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'hat'">that</ins> because it is going to be + very important. Dis is a place you need a good reason to visit and no reason at all to + leave. Too hot, too dry, the temperature in the temperate zones rarely drops below a + hundred Fahrenheit. The planet is nothing but scorched rock and burning sand. Most of + the water is underground and normally inaccessible. The surface water is all in the + form of <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'briney'">briny</ins>, chemically saturated swamps. + Undrinkable without extensive processing. All the facts and figures are here in the + folders and you can study them later. Right now I want you just to get the idea that + this planet is as loathsome and inhospitable as they come. So are the people. This is a + solido of a Disan."</p> + + <p>Lea gasped at the three-dimensional representation on the screen. Not at the + physical aspects of the man, as the biologist trained in the specialty of alien life + she had seen a lot stranger sights. It was the man's pose, the expression on his face. + Tensed to leap, his lips drawn back to show all of his teeth.</p> + + <p>"He looks like he wanted to kill the photographer," she said.</p> + + <p>"He almost did—just after the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id= + "Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>picture was taken. Like all Disans he has an overwhelming + hatred and loathing of offworlders. Not without good reason though. His planet was + settled completely by chance during the Breakdown. I'm not sure of the details, but the + overall picture is clear, since the story of their desertion forms the basis of all the + myths and animistic religions on Dis.<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits closing double-quotes">"</ins></p> + + <p>"Apparently there were large scale mining operations carried on there once, the + world is rich enough in minerals and mining it is very simple." But water came only + from expensive extraction processes and I imagine most of the food came from offworld. + Which was good enough until the settlement was forgotten, the way a lot of other + planets were during the Breakdown. All the records were destroyed in the fighting and + the ore carriers pressed into military service. Dis was on its own. What happened to + the people there is a tribute to the adaptation possibilities of Homo sapiens. + Individuals died, usually in enormous pain, but the race lived. Changed a good deal, + but still human.</p> + + <p>"As the water and food ran out and the extraction machinery broke down, they must + have made heroic efforts to survive. They didn't do it mechanically, but by the time + the last machine collapsed, enough people were adjusted to the environment to keep the + race going. Third (Their? n. of transc.) descendants are still there, completely adapted to the environment. + Their body temperatures are around one hundred and thirty degrees. They have + specialized tissue in the gluteal area for storing water. These are minor changes + compared to the major ones they have done in fitting themselves for this planet.</p> + + <p>"I'm not sure of the exact details, but the reports are very enthusiastic about + symbiotic relationships. They assure us that this is the first time Homo sapiens has + been an active part of either commensalism or inquilinism other than in the role of + host."</p> + + <p>"Wonderful!" Lea enthused.</p> + + <p>"Is it?" Ihjel scowled. "Perhaps from the abstract scientific point of view. If you + can keep notes, perhaps you might write a book about it some time. But I'm not + interested. I'm sure all these morphological changes and disgusting intimacies will + fascinate you, Dr. Morees. But while you are counting blood types and admiring your + thermometers, I hope you will be able to devote a little time to a study of the Disans' + obnoxious personalities. We must either find out what makes these people tick—or + we are going to have to stand by and watch the whole lot blown up!"</p> + + <p>"Going to do what?" Lea gasped. "Destroy them? Wipe out this fascinating genetic + pool? Why?"</p> + + <p>"Because they are so incredibly loathsome, that's why!" Ihjel said. "These + aboriginal hotheads have managed to lay their hands on some primitive cobalt bombs. + They want to light the fuse and drop these bombs on Nyjord, the next planet. Nothing + said or done can convince <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg + 32]</a></span>them differently. They demand unconditional surrender or else. This is + impossible for a lot of reasons—most important because the Nyjorders would like + to keep their planet for their very own. They have tried every kind of compromise but + none of them work. The Disans are out to commit racial suicide. A Nyjord fleet is now + over Dis and the deadline has almost expired for the surrender of the cobalt bombs. The + Nyjord ships carry enough H-bombs to turn the entire planet into an atomic pile. That + is what we must stop."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image5.jpg" width="600" + height="400" alt="" /></div> + + <p>Brion looked at the solido on the screen, trying to make some judgment of the man. + Bare, horny feet—a bulky, ragged length of cloth around the waist was the only + garment. What looked like a piece of green vine was hooked over one shoulder. From a + plaited belt were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg + 33]</a></span>suspended a number of odd devices made of hand-beaten metal, drilled + stone and looped leather. The only recognizable one was a thin knife of unusual design. + Loops of piping, flared bells, carved stones tied in senseless patterns of thonging + gave the rest of the collection a bizarre appearance. Perhaps they had some religious + significance. But the well-worn and handled look of most of them gave Brion an uneasy + sensation. If they were used—what in the universe could they be used + <i>for</i><ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original closed with a double-quote">?</ins></p> + + <p>"I can't believe it," he finally concluded. "Except for the exotic hardware, this + lowbrow looks like he has sunk back into the stone age. I don't see how his kind can be + of any real threat to another planet."</p> + + <p>"The Nyjorders believe it, and that's good enough for me," Ihjel said. "They are + paying our Cultural Relationships Foundation a good sum to try and prevent this war. + Since they are our employers, we must do what they ask." Brion ignored this large lie, + since it was obviously designed as an explanation for Lea. But he made an mental note + to query Ihjel later about the real situation.</p> + + <p>"Here are the tech reports." Ihjel dropped them on the table. "Dis has some spacers + as well as the cobalt bombs—though these are the real threat. A tramp trader was + picked up <i>leaving</i> Dis. It had delivered a jump-space launcher that can drop + those bombs on Nyjord while anchored to the bedrock of Dis. While essentially a + peaceful and happy people the Nyjorders were justifiably annoyed at this and convinced + the tramp's captain to give them some more information. It's all here. Boiled down it + gives a minimum deadline by which time the launcher can be set up and start throwing + bombs."</p> + + <p>"When is that deadline?" Lea asked.</p> + + <p>"In ten days. If the situation hasn't been changed drastically by then the Nyjorders + are going to wipe all life <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg + 34]</a></span>from the face of Dis. I assure you they don't want to do it. But they + will drop the bombs in order to assure their own survival."</p> + + <p>"What am I supposed to do?" Lea asked, annoyedly flipping the pages of the report. + "I don't know a thing about nucleonics or jump-space. I'm an exobiologist with a + supplementary degree in anthropology. What help could I possibly be?"</p> + + <p>Ihjel looked down at her, fondling his jaw, fingers sunk deep into the rolls of + flesh. "My faith in our recruiters is restored," he said. "That's a combination that is + probably rare—even on Earth. You're as scrawny as an underfed chicken but young + enough to survive if we keep a close eye on you." He cut off Lea's angry protest with a + raised hand. "No more bickering. There isn't time. The Nyjorders must have lost over + thirty agents trying to find the bombs. Our Foundation has had six people + killed—including my late predecessor in charge of the project. He was a good man, + but I think he went at this problem the wrong way. I think it is a cultural one, not a + physical one."</p> + + <p>"Run it through again with the power turned up," Lea said frowning. "All I hear is + static."</p> + + <p>"It's the old problem of genesis. Like Newton and the falling apple, Levy and the + hysteresis in the warp field. Everything has a beginning. If we can find out why these + people are so hell-bent on suicide, we might be able to change the reasons. Not that I + intend to stop looking for the bombs or the jump-space generator either. We are going + to try anything that will avert this planetary murder."</p> + + <p>"You're a lot brighter than you look," Lea said, rising and carefully stacking the + sheets of the report. "You can count on me for complete co-operation. Now I'll study + all this in bed if one of you overweight gentlemen will show me to a room with a strong + lock on the inside of the door. Don't call me, I'll call you when I want + breakfast."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion wasn't sure how much of her barbed speech was humor and how much serious, so + he said nothing. He showed her to an empty cabin—she did lock the door—then + looked for Ihjel. The Winner was in the galley adding to his girth with an immense + gelatin dessert that filled a good-sized tureen.</p> + + <p>"Is she short for a native Terran?" Brion asked. "The top of her head is below my + chin."</p> + + <p>"That's the norm. Earth is a reservoir of tired genes. Weak backs, vermiform + appendixes, bad eyes. If they didn't have the universities and the trained people we + need, I would never use them."</p> + + <p>"Why did you lie to her about the Foundation?"</p> + + <p>"Because it's a secret—isn't that reason enough?" Ihjel rumbled angrily, + scraping the last dregs from the bowl. "Better eat something. Build up the strength. + The Foundation has to maintain its undercover status if it is going to accomplish + anything. If she returns to Earth after <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id= + "Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>this, it's better that she should know nothing of our real + work. If she joins up, there'll be time enough to tell her. But I doubt if she will + like the way we operate. Particularly since I plan to drop some H-bombs on Dis + myself—if we can't turn off the war."</p> + + <p>"I don't believe it!"</p> + + <p>"You heard me correctly. Don't bulge your eyes and look moronic. As a last resort + I'll drop the bombs myself, rather than let the Nyjorders do it. That might save + them."</p> + + <p>"Save them—they'd all be radiated and dead!" Brion's voice was raised in + anger.</p> + + <p>"Not the Disans. I want to save the Nyjorders. Stop clenching your fists and sit + down and have some of this cake. It's delicious. The Nyjorders are all that counts + here. They have a planet blessed by the laws of chance. When Dis was cut off from + outside contact the survivors turned into a gang of swamp-crawling homicidals. It did + the opposite for Nyjord. You can survive there just by pulling fruit off a + tree.<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits cloing double-quotes">"</ins></p> + + <p>"The population was small, educated, intelligent. Instead of sinking into an eternal + siesta they matured into a vitally different society. Not mechanical—they weren't + even using the wheel when they were <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'rediscoverd'">rediscovered</ins>. They became sort + of cultural specialists, digging deep into the <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'philosphical'">philosophical</ins> aspects of + interrelationship. The thing that machine societies never have had time for. Of course + this was ready made for the Cultural Relationships Foundation, and we have been working + with them ever since. Not guiding so much as protecting them from any blows that might + destroy this growing idea. But we've fallen down on the job.<ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original omits closing double-quote">"</ins></p> + + <p>"Nonviolence is essential to those people—they have vitality without needing + destruction. But if they are forced to blow up Dis for their own survival—against + every one of their basic tenets—their philosophy won't endure. Physically they'll + live on. As just one more dog-eat-dog planet with an A-bomb for any of the competition + who drop behind."</p> + + <p>"Sounds like paradise now."</p> + + <p>"Don't be smug. It's just another <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'worldful'">world full</ins> of people with the + same old likes, dislikes and hatreds. But they are evolving a way of living together, + without violence, that may some day form the key to mankind's survival. They are worth + looking after. Now get below and study your Disan and read the reports. Get it all pat + before we land."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + <p>"Identify yourself, please." The quiet words from the speaker in no way appeared to + coincide with the picture on the screen. The spacer that had matched their orbit over + Dis had recently been a freighter. A quick conversion had tacked the hulking shape of a + primary weapons turret on top of her hull. The black disk of the immense muzzle + pointing squarely at them. Ihjel switched open the ship-to-ship communication + channel.</p> + + <p>"This is Ihjel. Retinal pattern 490-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id= + "Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>Bj4-67—which is also the code that is supposed to get + me through your blockade. Do you want to check that pattern?"</p> + + <p>"There will be no need, thank you. If you will turn on your recorder, I have a + message relayed to you from Prime-four."</p> + + <p>"Recording and out," Ihjel said "Damn! Trouble already and four days to blowup. + Prime-four is our headquarters on Dis. This ship carries a cover cargo so we can land + at the spaceport. This is probably a change of plan and I don't like the smell of + it."</p> + + <p>There was something behind Ihjel's grumbling this time, and without conscious effort + Brion could sense the chilling touch of the other man's <i>angst</i>. Trouble was + waiting for them on the planet below. When the message was typed by the decoder Ihjel + hovered over it, reading each word as it appeared on the paper. He only snorted when it + was finished and went below to the galley. Brion pulled the message out of the machine + and read it.</p> + + <p>IHJEL IHJEL IHJEL SPACEPORT LANDING DANGER NIGHT LANDING PREFERABLE CO-ORDINATES MAP + 46 J92 MN75 REMOTE YOUR SHIP VION WILL MEET END END END</p> + + <p>Dropping into the darkness was safe enough. It was done on instruments and the + Disans were thought to have no detection apparatus. The altimeter dials spun backwards + to zero and a soft vibration was the only indication they had landed. All of the cabin + lights were off except for the fluorescent glow of the instruments. A white-speckled + gray filled the infrared screen, radiation from the still-warm sand and stone. There + were no moving blips on it, nor the characteristic shape of a shielded atomic + generator.</p> + + <p>"We're here first," Ihjel said, opaquing the ports and turning on the cabin lights. + They blinked at each other, faces damp with perspiration.</p> + + <p>"Must you have the ship this hot?" Lea asked, patting her forehead with an already + sodden kerchief. Stripped of her heavier clothing she looked even tinier to Brion. But + the thin cloth tunic—reaching barely halfway to her knees—concealed very + little. Small she may have appeared to him—unfeminine she was not. In fact she + was quite attractive.</p> + + <p>"Shall I turn around so you can stare at the back, too?" she asked Brion. Five days' + experience had taught him that this type of remark was best ignored. It only became + worse if he tried to answer.</p> + + <p>"Dis is hotter than this cabin," he said, changing the subject. "By raising the + interior temperature we can at least prevent any sudden shock when we go + out—"</p> + + <p>"I know the theory—but it doesn't stop me from sweating," she snapped.</p> + + <p>"Best thing you can do is sweat," Ihjel said. He looked like a glistening captive + balloon in shorts. Finishing a bottle of beer he took another from the freezer. "Have a + beer."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + + <p>"No thank you. I'm afraid it would dissolve the last shreds of tissue and my kidneys + would float completely away. On Earth we never—"</p> + + <p>"Get Professor Morees' luggage for her," Ihjel said. "Vion's coming, there's his + signal. I'm sending this ship up before any of the locals spot it."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>When he cracked the outer port the puff of air struck them like the exhaust from a + furnace. Dry and hot as a tongue of flame. Brion heard Lea's gasp in the darkness. She + stumbled down the ramp and he followed her slowly, careful of the weight of packs and + equipment he carried. The sand burned through his boots, still hot from the day. Ihjel + came last, the remote-control unit in his hand. As soon as they were clear he activated + it and the ramp slipped back like a giant tongue. As soon as the lock had swung shut + the ship lifted and drifted upwards silently towards its orbit, a shrinking darkness + against the stars.</p> + + <p>There was just enough starlight to see the sandy wastes around them, as wave-filled + as a petrified sea. The dark shape of a sandcar drew up over a dune and hummed to a + stop. When the door opened Ihjel stepped towards it and everything happened at + once.</p> + + <p>Ihjel broke into a blue nimbus of crackling flame, his skin blackening, charred, + dead in an instant. A second pillar of flame bloomed next to the car and a choking + scream, cut off even as it began. Ihjel died silently.</p> + + <p>Brion was diving even as the electrical discharges still crackled in the air. The + boxes and packs dropped from him and he slammed against Lea, knocking her to the + ground. He hoped she had the sense to stay there and be quiet. This was his only + conscious thought, the rest was reflex. Rolling over and over as fast as he could.</p> + + <p>The spitting electrical flames flared again, playing over the bundles of luggage he + had dropped. This time Brion was expecting it, pressed flat to the ground a short + distance away. He was facing the darkness away from the sandcar and saw the brief, blue + glow of the ion-rifle discharge. His own gun was in his hand. When Ihjel had given him + the missile weapon he had asked no questions, just strapped it on. There had been no + thought that he would need it this quickly. Holding it firmly before him in both hands + he let his body aim at the spot where the glow had been. A whiplash of explosive slugs + ripped the night air. They found their target and something thrashed voicelessly and + died.</p> + + <p>In the brief instant after he fired a jarring weight landed on his back and a line + of fire circled his throat. Normally he fought with a calm mind, with no thoughts other + than the contest. But Ihjel, a friend, a man of Anvhar, had died a few seconds earlier + and Brion found himself welcoming this physical violence and pain.</p> + + <p>There are many foolish and dangerous things that can be done, such <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>as smoking next to high + octane fuel and putting fingers into electrical sockets. Just as dangerous, and equally + deadly, is physically attacking a Winner of the Twenties.</p> + + <p>Two men hit Brion together, though this made very little difference. The first died + suddenly as hands like steel claws found his neck and in a single spasmodic contraction + did such damage to the large blood vessels there that they burst and tiny hemorrhages + filled his brain. The second man had time for a single scream, though he died just as + swiftly when those hands closed on his larynx.</p> + + <p>Running in a crouch, partially on his knuckles, Brion swiftly made a circle of the + area, gun ready. There were no others. Only when he touched the softness of Lea's body + did the blood anger seep from him. He was suddenly aware of the pain and fatigue, the + sweat soaking his body and the breath rasping in his throat. Holstering the gun he ran + light fingers over her skull, finding a bruised spot on one temple. Her chest was + rising and falling regularly. She had struck her head when he pushed her. It had + undoubtedly saved her life.</p> + + <p>Sitting down suddenly he let his body relax, breathing deeply. Everything was a + little better now, except for the pain at his throat. His fingers found a thin strand + on the side of his neck with a knobby weight on the end. There was another weight on + his other shoulder and a thin line of pain across his neck. When he pulled on them both + the strangler's cord came away in his hand. It was thin fiber, strong as a wire. When + it had been pulled around his neck it had sliced the surface skin and flesh like a + knife, halted only by the corded bands of muscle below. Brion threw it from him, into + the darkness where it had come from.</p> + + <p>He could think again and he carefully kept his thoughts from the men he had killed. + Knowing it was useless he went to Ihjel's body. A single touch of the scorched flesh + was enough.</p> + + <p>Behind him Lea moaned with returning consciousness and he hurried on to the sandcar, + stepping over the charred body outside the door. The driver was slumped, dead, + killed perhaps by the same strangling cord that had sunk into Brion's throat. He laid + the man gently on the sand and closed the lids over the staring horror of the eyes. + There was a canteen in the car and he brought it back to Lea.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"My head—I've hurt my head," Lea said groggily.</p> + + <p>"Just a bruise," he reassured her. "Drink some of this water and you'll soon feel + better. Lie back. Everything's over for the moment and you can rest."</p> + + <p>"Ihjel's dead!" she said with sudden shocked memory. "They've killed him! What's + happened?" She tensed, tried to rise, and he pressed her back gently.</p> + + <p>"I'll tell you everything. Just don't try to get up yet. There was an ambush and + they killed Vion and the driver <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id= + "Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>of the sandcar, as well as Ihjel. Three men did it and + they're all dead now, too. I don't think there are any more around, but if there are + I'll hear them coming. We're just going to wait a few minutes until you feel better + then we're getting out of here in the car."</p> + + <p>"Bring the ship down!" There was a thin edge of hysteria in her voice. "We can't + stay here alone. We don't know where to go or what to do. With Ihjel dead the whole + thing's spoiled. We have to get out—"</p> + + <p>There are some things that can't sound gentle, no matter how gently they are said. + This was one of them. "I'm sorry, Lea, but the ship is out of our reach right now. + Ihjel was killed with an ion gun and it fused the control unit into a solid lump. We + must take the car and get to the city. We'll do it now. See if you can stand + up—I'll help you."</p> + + <p>She rose, not saying anything, and as they walked towards the car a single, reddish + moon cleared the hills behind them. In its light Brion saw a dark line bisecting the + rear panel of the sandcar. He stopped abruptly. "What's the matter?" Lea asked.</p> + + <p>The unlocked engine cover could have only one significance and he pushed it open + knowing in advance what he would see. The attackers had been very thorough and fast. In + the short time available to them they had killed the driver and the car as well. Ruddy + light shone on torn wires, ripped out connections. Repair would be impossible.</p> + + <p>"I think we'll have to walk," he told her, trying to keep the gloom out of his + voice. "This spot is roughly a hundred and fifty meters from the city of Hovedstad, + where we have to go. We should be able to—"</p> + + <p>"We're going to die. We can't walk anywhere. This whole planet is a death trap. + Let's get back in the ship!" There was a thin shrillness of hysteria at the edge of her + voice, as well as a subtle slurring of the sounds.</p> + + <p>Brion didn't try to reason with her or bother to explain. She had a concussion from + the blow, that much was obvious. He made her sit and rest while he made what + preparations he could for the long walk.</p> + + <p>Clothing first. With each passing minute the desert air was growing colder as the + day's heat ebbed away. Lea was beginning to shiver and he took some heavier clothing + from her charred bag and made her pull it on over her light tunic. There was little + else that was worth carrying. The canteen from the car and a first-aid kit he found in + one of the compartments. There were no maps or radio. Navigation was obviously done by + compass on this almost-featureless desert. The car was equipped with an electrically + operated gyro-compass, of no possible use to him. He did use it to check the direction + to Hovedstad, as he remembered it from the map, and found it lined up perfectly with + the tracks the car had cut into the sand. It had come directly from the city. They + could find their way by back-tracking.</p> + + <p>Time was slipping away. He would like to have buried Ihjel and the men <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>from the car, but the night + hours were too valuable to be wasted. The best he could do was put the three corpses in + the car, for protection from the Disan animals. Locking the door he threw the key as + far as he could in the blackness. Lea had slipped into a restless sleep and he + carefully shook her awake.</p> + + <p>"Come," Brion said, "we have a little walking to do."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + + <p>With the cool air and firmly packed sand under foot walking should have been easy. + Lea spoiled that. The concussion seemed to have temporarily cut off the reasoning part + of her brain leaving a direct connection to her vocal cords. As she stumbled along, + only half conscious, she mumbled all of her darkest fears that were better left + unvoiced. Occasionally there was relevancy in her complaints. They would lose their + way, never find the city, die of thirst, freezing, heat or hunger. Interspersed and + entwined with these were fears from her past that still floated, submerged in the + timeless ocean of her subconscious. Some Brion could understand, though he tried not to + listen. Fears of losing credits, not getting the highest grade, falling behind, a woman + alone in a world of men, leaving school, being lost, trampled among the nameless hordes + that struggled for survival in the crowded city-states of Earth.</p> + + <p>There were other things she was afraid of that made no sense to a man of Anvhar. Who + were the alkians that seemed to trouble her? Or what was canceri? Daydle and haydle? + Who was Mansean whose name kept coming up, over and over, each time accompanied by a + little moan?</p> + + <p>Brion stopped and picked her up in both arms. With a sigh she settled against the + hard width of his chest and was instantly asleep. Even with the additional weight he + made better time now, and he stretched to his fastest, kilometer-consuming stride to + make good use of these best hours.</p> + + <p>Somewhere on a stretch of gravel and shelving rock he lost the track of the sandcar. + He wasted no time looking for it. By carefully watching the glistening stars rise + and set he had made a good estimate of the geographic north. Dis didn't seem to have a + pole star, however a boxlike constellation turned slowly around the invisible point of + the pole. Keeping this positioned in line with his right shoulder guided him on the + westerly course he needed.</p> + + <p>When his arms began to grow tired he lowered Lea gently to the ground, she didn't + wake. Stretching for an instant, before taking up his burden again, Brion was struck by + the terrible loneliness of the desert. His breath made a vanishing mist against the + stars, all else was darkness and silence. How distant he was from his home, his people, + his planet. Even the constellations of the night sky were different. He was used to + solitude, but this was a loneliness that touched some deep-buried instinct. A shiver + that wasn't from the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg + 41]</a></span>desert cold touched lightly along his spine, prickling at the hairs on + his neck.</p> + + <p>It was time to go on. He shrugged the disquieting sensations off and carefully tied + Lea into the jacket he had been wearing. Slung like a pack on his back it made walking + easier. The gravel gave way to sliding dunes of sand that seemed to continue to + infinity. A painful, slipping climb to the top of each one, then and equally difficult + descent to the black-pooled hollow at the foot of the next.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;"><img src="images/image6.jpg" width="407" + height="600" alt="" /></div> + + <p>With the first lightening of the sky in the east he stopped, breath rasping in his + chest, to mark his direction before the stars faded. One line scratched in the sand + pointed due <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg + 42]</a></span>north, a second pointed out the course they should follow. When they were + aligned to his satisfaction he washed his mouth out with a single swallow of water and + sat on the sand next to the still form of the girl.</p> + + <p>Gold fingers of fire searched across the sky, wiping out the stars. It was + magnificent, Brion forgot his fatigue in appreciation. There should be some way of + preserving it. A quatrain would be best. Short enough to be remembered, yet requiring + attention and skill to compact everything into it. He had scored high with his + quatrains in the Twenties. This would be a special one. Taind, his poetry mentor would + have to get a copy.</p> + + <p>"What are you mumbling about?" Lea asked, looking up at the craggy blackness of his + profile against the reddening sky.</p> + + <p>"Poem," he said. "<i>Shhh.</i> Just a minute."</p> + + <p>It was too much for Lea, coming after the tension and dangers of the night. She + began to laugh, laughing even harder when he scowled at her angrily. Only when she + heard the tinge of growing hysteria did she make an attempt to break off the laughter. + The sun cleared the horizon, washing a sudden warmth over them. Lea gasped.</p> + + <p>"Your throat's been cut! You're bleeding to death!"</p> + + <p>"Not really," he said, touching his fingertips lightly against the blood-clotted + wound that circled his neck. "Just superficial."</p> + + <p>Depression sat on him as he suddenly remembered the battle and death of the previous + night. Lea didn't notice his face. She was busy digging in the pack he had thrown down. + He had to use his fingers to massage and force away the grimace of pain that twisted + his mouth. Memory was more painful than the wound. How easily he had killed. Three men. + How close to the surface of the civilized man the animal dwelled. In the countless + matches he had used those holds, always drawing back from the exertion of the full + killing power. They were part of a game, part of the Twenties. Yet when his friend had + been killed he had become a killer himself. He believed in nonviolence and the sanctity + of life. Until the first test when he had killed without hesitation. More ironic was + the fact he really felt no guilt. Shock at the change, yes. But no more than that.</p> + + <p>"Lift your chin," Lea said, brandishing the antiseptic applier she had found in the + medicine kit. He lifted obligingly and the liquid drew a cool, burning line across his + neck. Antibio pills would do a lot more good, since the wound was completely clotted by + now, but he didn't speak his thoughts aloud. For the moment Lea had forgotten herself + in taking care of him. He put some of the antiseptic on her scalp bruise and she + squeaked, pulling back. They both swallowed the pills.</p> + + <p>"That sun is hot already," Lea grumbled, peeling off her heavy clothing. "Let's find + a nice cool cave to crawl into for the day."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + + <p>"I don't think there are any here, just sand. We have to walk—"</p> + + <p>"I know we have to walk," she interrupted angrily. "There's no need for a lecture + about it. You're as seriously cubical as the Bank of Terra. Relax. Take ten and start + again." Lea was making empty talk while she listened to the memory of hysteria + tittering at the fringes of her brain.</p> + + <p>"No time for that. We have to keep going." Brion climbed slowly to his feet after + stowing everything in the pack. When he sighted along his marker at the western horizon + he saw nothing to mark their course, only the marching dunes. He helped Lea to her feet + and began walking slowly towards them.</p> + + <p>"Just hold on a second," Lea called after him. "Where do you think you're + going?"</p> + + <p>"In that direction," he said pointing. "I hoped there would be some landmarks. There + aren't. We'll have to keep on by dead reckoning. The sun will keep us pretty well on + course. If we aren't there by night, the stars will be a better guide."</p> + + <p>"All this on an empty stomach? How about breakfast? I'm hungry—and + thirsty."</p> + + <p>"No food." He shook the canteen that gurgled emptily. It has been only partly filled + when he found it. "The water's low and we'll need it later."</p> + + <p>"I need it now," she snapped. "My mouth tastes like an unemptied ashtray and I'm dry + as paper."</p> + + <p>"Just a single swallow," he said. "This is all we have."</p> + + <p>Lea sipped at it with her eyes closed in appreciation. He sealed the top and + returned it to the pack without taking any himself. They were sweating as they started + up the first dune.</p> + + <p>The desert was barren of life; they were the only things moving under that merciless + sun. Their shadows pointed the way ahead of them, and as the shadows shortened the heat + rose. It had an intensity Lea had never experienced before, a physical weight that + pushed at her with a searing hand. Her clothing was sodden with perspiration, and it + trickled burning into her eyes. The light and heat made it hard to see and she leaned + on the immovable strength of Brion's arm. He walked on steadily, apparently ignoring + the heat and discomfort.</p> + + <p>"I wonder if those things are edible—or store water?" Brion's voice was a + harsh rasp. Lea blinked and squinted at the leathery shape on the summit of the dune. + Plant or animal, it was hard to tell. The size of a man's head, wrinkled and gray as + dried-out leather, knobbed with thick spikes. Brion pushed it up with his toe and they + had a brief glimpse of a white roundness, like a shiny taproot, going down into the + dune. Then the thing contracted, pulling itself lower into the sand. At the same + instant something thin and sharp lashed out through a fold in the skin, striking at + Brion's boot and withdrawing. There was a scratch on the hard plastic, beaded with + drops of green liquid.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Probably poison," he said, digging his toe into the sand. "This thing is too mean + to fool with—without a good reason. Let's keep going."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>It was before noon when Lea fell down. She really wanted to go on, but her body + wouldn't obey. The thin soles of her shoes were no protection against the burning sand + and her feet were lumps of raw pain. Heat hammered down, poured up from the sand and + swirled her in an oven of pain. The air she gasped in was molten metal that dried and + cracked her mouth. Each pulse of her heart throbbed blood to the wound in her scalp + until it seemed her skull would burst with the agony. She had stripped down to the + short tunic—in spite of Brion's insistence that she keep her body protected from + the sun—and that clung to her, soaked with sweat. She tore at it in a desperate + effort to breathe. There was no escape from the unending heat.</p> + + <p>Though the baked sand burned torture into her knees and hands she couldn't rise. It + took all her strength not to fall farther. Her eyes closed and everything swirled in + immense circles.</p> + + <p>Brion blinking through slitted eyes, saw her go down. He lifted and carried her + again as he had the night before. The hot touch of her body shocked his bare arms. Her + skin was flushed pink. Wiping his palm free of sweat and sand he touched her skin and + felt the ominous hot dryness.</p> + + <p>Heat-shock, all the symptoms. Dry, flushed skin, the ragged breathing. Her + temperature rising quickly as her body stopped fighting the heat and succumbed.</p> + + <p>There was nothing he could do here to protect her from the heat. He measured a tiny + portion of the remaining water into her mouth and she swallowed convulsively. The + thinnest of the clothing protected her slight body from the direct rays of the sun. + After that he could only take her in his arms and keep on toward the horizon. An + outcropping of rock there threw a tiny patch of shade and he walked toward it.</p> + + <p>The ground here, shielded from the direct rays of the sun, felt almost cool by + contrast. Lea opened her eyes when he put her down, peering up at him through a haze of + pain. She wanted to apologize to him for her weakness, but no words came from the dried + membrane of her throat. His body above her seemed to swim back and forth in the heat + waves, swaying like a tree in a high wind.</p> + + <p>Shock drove her eyes open, cleared her mind for the instant. He really was swaying. + With sudden horror she realized how much she had come to depend on the eternal solidity + of his strength. Now it was failing. All over his body the corded muscles contracted in + ridges, striving to keep him erect. She saw his mouth pulled open by the taut cords of + his neck and the gaping, silent scream was more terrible than any sound. Then she + screamed herself as his eyes rolled back, leaving just the empty <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>white of the eyeballs + staring terribly at her. He went over, back down, like a felled tree, thudding heavily + on the sand. Unconscious or dead she couldn't tell. She pulled limply at his leg, but + couldn't drag his immense weight into the shade.</p> + + <p>Brion lay on his back in the sun, sweating. Lea saw this and knew that he was still + alive. Yet what was happening? She groped for memory in the red haze of her mind, but + could remember nothing from her medical studies that would explain this. On every + square inch of his body the sweat glands seethed with sudden activity. From every pore + oozed great globules of oily liquid, far thicker than normal perspiration. Brion's arms + rippled with motion and Lea stared, horrified as the hairs there writhed and stirred as + though endowed with separate life. His chest rose and fell rapidly, deep, gasping + breaths wracking his body. Lea could only stare through the dim redness of unreality + and wonder if she was going mad before she died.</p> + + <p>A coughing fit broke the rhythm of his rasping breath, and when it was over his + breathing was easier. The perspiration still covered his body, the individual beads + touching and forming tiny streams that seeped down his body and vanished in the sand. + He stirred and rolled onto his side, facing her. His eyes open and normal now as he + smiled.</p> + + <p>"Didn't mean to frighten you. It caught me suddenly, coming at the wrong season and + everything. It was a bit of a jar to my system. I'll get you some water now, there's + still a bit left."</p> + + <p>"What happened? When you looked like that, when you fell—"</p> + + <p>"Take two swallows, no more," he said, holding the canteen to her mouth. "Just + summer change, that's all. Happens to us every year on Anvhar—only not that + violently, of course. In the winter our bodies store a layer of fat under the skin for + insulation and sweating almost ceases completely. Lot of internal changes, too. When + the weather warms up the process is reversed. The fat is metabolized and the sweat + glands enlarge and begin working overtime as the body prepares for two months of hard + work, heat and little sleep. I guess the heat here triggered off the summer change + early."</p> + + <p>"You mean—you've adapted to this terrible planet?"</p> + + <p>"Just about. Though it does feel a little warm. I'll need a lot more water soon, so + we can't remain here. Do you think you can stand the sun if I carry you?"</p> + + <p>"No, but I won't feel any better staying here." She was light-headed, scarcely aware + of what she said. "Keep going, I guess. Keep going."</p> + + <p>As soon as she was out of the shadow of the rock the sunlight burst over her again + in a wave of hot pain. She was unconscious at once. Her slight weight was no burden to + Brion and he made his best speed, heading toward the spot on the horizon where the sun + would set. Without water he knew he could not last more than a day or two at best.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + + <p>When sunset came he was still walking steadily. Only when the air chilled did he + stop to dress them both in the warm clothes and push on. Lea regained consciousness in + the cool night air and finished the last mouthfuls of water. She wanted to walk, but + could only moan with pain when her burned feet touched the ground. He put ointment on + them and wrapped them in cloth. They were too swollen to go back into the ragged shoes. + Lifting his burden he walked on into the night, following the guiding stars.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Except for the nagging thirst, it was an easy night. He wouldn't need sleep for two + or three days more, so that didn't bother him. His muscles had a plentiful supply of + fuel at hand in the no longer wanted subcutaneous fatty layer. Metabolizing it kept him + warm. By running at a ground-eating pace whenever the footing was smooth he made good + time. By dawn he was feeling a little tired and was at least ten kilos lighter due to + the loss of the burned up fat.</p> + + <p>There was no sight of the city yet. This was the last day. Massive as the adaptation + of his body was to the climate, it still needed water to function. As his pores opened + in the heat he knew the end was very close. Weaving, stumbling, trying not to fall with + the unconscious girl, he climbed dune after unending dune. Before his tortured eyes the + sun expanded and throbbed like a gigantic beating heart. He struggled to the top of the + mountain of sand and looked at the Disan standing a few feet away.</p> + + <p>They were both too surprised by the sudden encounter to react at once. For a breath + of time they stared at each other, unmoving. When they reacted it was with the same + defense of fear. Brion dropped the girl, bringing the gun up from the holster in the + return of the same motion. The Disan jerked a belled tube from his waistband and raised + it to his mouth.</p> + + <p>Brion didn't fire. A dead man had taught him how to train his <ins class= + "correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'emphathetic'">empathetic</ins> + sense, and to trust it. In spite of the fear that wanted him to jerk the trigger, a + different sense read the unvoiced emotions of the native Disan. There was fear there, + and hatred. Welling up around these was a strong desire not to commit violence this + time, to communicate instead. Brion felt and recognized all this in a small part of a + second. He had to act instantly to avoid a tragic accident. A jerk of his wrist threw + the gun to one side.</p> + + <p>As soon as it was gone, he regretted his loss. He was gambling their lives on an + ability he still was not sure of. The Disan had the tube to his mouth when the gun hit + the ground. He held the pose, unmoving, thinking. Then he accepted Brion's action and + thrust the tube back into his waistband.</p> + + <p>"Do you have any water?" Brion asked, the guttural Disan words hurting his + throat.</p> + + <p>"I have water," the man said. He still didn't move. "Who are you?"</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + + <p>"We're from offplanet. We had ... an accident. We want to go to the city. The + water."</p> + + <p>The Disan looked at the unconscious girl and made his decision. Over one shoulder he + wore one of the green objects that Brion remembered from the solido. He pulled it off + and the thing writhed slowly in his hands. It was alive. A green length a meter long, + like a noduled section of a thick vine. One end flared out into a petallike formation. + The Disan took a hook-shaped object from his waist and thrust it into the petaled + orifice. When he turned the hook in a quick motion the length of green writhed and + curled around his arm. He pulled something small and dark out and threw it to the + ground, extending the twisting green shape towards Brion. "Put your mouth to the end + and drink," he said.</p> + + <p>Lea needed the water more, but he drank first, suspicious of the living water + source. A hollow below the writhing petals was filling with straw-colored water from + the fibrous, reedy interior. He raised it to his mouth and drank. The water was hot and + tasted swampy. Sudden sharp pains around his mouth made him jerk the thing away. Tiny + glistening white barbs projected from the petals, pink tipped now with his blood. Brion + swung towards the Disan angrily—and stopped when he looked at the other man's + face. His mouth was surrounded by many small scars.</p> + + <p>"The vaede does not like to give up its water, but it always does," the man + said.</p> + + <p>Brion drank again then put the vaede to Lea's mouth. She moaned without regaining + consciousness, her lips seeking reflexively for the life-saving liquid. When she was + satisfied Brion gently drew the barbs from her flesh and drank again. The Disan + hunkered down on his heels and watched them expressionlessly. Brion handed back the + vaede, then held some of the clothes so Lea was in their shade. He settled into the + same position as the native and looked closely at him.</p> + + <p>Squatting immobile on his heels, the Disan appeared perfectly comfortable under the + flaming sun. There was no trace of perspiration on his naked, browned skin. Long hair + fell to his shoulders and startlingly blue eyes stared back at Brion from deep-set + sockets. The heavy kilt around his loins was the only garment he wore. Once more the + vaede rested over his shoulder, still stirring unhappily. Around his waist was the same + collection of leather, stone and brass objects that had been in the solido. Two of them + now had meaning to Brion. The tube-and-mouthpiece; a blowgun of some kind. And the + specially shaped hook for opening the vaede. He wondered if the other strangely formed + things had equally realistic functions. If you accepted them as artifacts with a + purpose—not barbaric decorations—you had to accept their owner as something + more than the crude savage he resembled.</p> + + <p>"My name is Brion. And you—"</p> + + <p>"You may not have my name. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg + 48]</a></span>Why are you here? To kill my people?"</p> + + <p>Brion forced the memory of the last night away. Killing was just what he had done. + Some expectancy in the man's manner, some sensed feeling of hope prompted Brion to + speak the truth.</p> + + <p>"I'm here to stop your people from being killed. I believe in the end of the + war."</p> + + <p>"Prove it."</p> + + <p>"Take me to the Cultural Relationships Foundation in the city and I'll prove it. I + can do nothing here in the desert. Except die."</p> + + <p>For the first time there was emotion on the Disan's face. He frowned and muttered + something to himself. There was a fine beading of sweat above his eyelids now as he + fought an internal battle. Coming to a decision he rose, and Brion stood, too.</p> + + <p>"Come with me. I'll take you to <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'Hovestad'">Hovedstad</ins>. But wait, there is one thing I must know. + Are you from Nyjord?"</p> + + <p>"No."</p> + + <p>The nameless Disan merely grunted and turned away. Brion shouldered Lea's + unconscious body and followed him. They walked for two hours, the Disan setting a cruel + pace, before they reached a wasteland of jumbled rock. The native pointed to the + highest tower of sand-eroded stone. "Wait near this," he said. "Someone will come for + you." He watched while Brion placed the girl's still body in the shade, and passed over + the vaede for the last time. Just before leaving he turned back, hesitating.</p> + + <p>"My name is ... Ulv," he said. Then he was gone.</p> + + <p>Brion did what he could to make Lea comfortable, but it was very little. If she + didn't get medical attention soon she would be dead. Dehydration and shock were uniting + to destroy her.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Part II]<br /> + [Pg 99]</a></span></p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image7.jpg" width="600" + height="517" alt="" /></div> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + + <p><img style="float:left;" src="images/image8.jpg" width="48" height="48" alt="J" /><span class='smcap'>ust</span> before sunset Brion heard clanking, and the + throbbing whine of a sandcar's engine coming from the west.</p> + + <p>With each second the noise grew louder, coming their way. The tracks squeaked as the + car turned around the rock spire, obviously seeking them out. A large carrier, big as a + truck. It stopped before them in a cloud of its own dust and the driver kicked the door + open.</p> + + <p>"Get in here—and fast!" the man shouted. "You're letting in all the heat." He + gunned the engine, ready to kick in the gears, looking at them irritatedly.</p> + + <p>Ignoring the driver's nervous instructions, Brion carefully placed Lea on the rear + seat before he pulled the door shut. The car surged forward instantly, a blast of icy + air pouring from the air-cooling vents. It wasn't cold in the vehicle—but the + temperature was at least forty degrees lower than the outer air. Brion covered Lea with + all their extra clothing to prevent any further shock to her system. The driver, + hunched over the wheel and driving with an intense speed, hadn't said a word to them + since they had entered.</p> + + <p>Brion looked up as another man stepped from the engine compartment in the rear of + the car. He was thin, harried looking. Pointing a gun.</p> + + <p>"Who are you," he said, without a trace of warmth in his voice.</p> + + <p>It was a strange reception, but Brion was beginning to realize that Dis was a + strange planet. He sat, relaxed and unmoving, keeping his voice pitched low. The other + man chewed at his lip nervously and Brion didn't want to startle him into pulling the + trigger.</p> + + <p>"My name is Brandd. We landed from space two nights ago and have been walking in the + desert ever since. Now don't get excited and shoot the gun when I tell you + this—but both Vion and Ihjel are dead."</p> + + <p>The man with the gun gasped, his eyes widened. The driver threw a single frightened + look over his shoulder then turned quickly back to the wheel. Brion's probe had hit its + mark. If these men weren't from the Cultural Relationships Foundation, they at least + knew a lot about it. It seemed safe to assume they were C.R.F. men.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + + <p>"When they were shot the girl and I escaped. We were trying to reach the city and + contact you. You are from the Foundation, aren't you?"</p> + + <p>"Yes. Of course," the man said, lowering the gun. He stared glassy-eyed into space + for a moment, nervously working his teeth against his lip. Startled at his own + inattention he raised the gun again.</p> + + <p>"If you're Brandd, there's something I want to know." Rummaging in his breast pocket + with his free hand he brought out a yellow message form. He moved his lips as he reread + the message. "Now answer me—if you can—what are the last three events in + the"—he took a quick look at the paper again—"in the Twenties?"</p> + + <p>"Chess finals, rifle prone position and fencing playoffs. Why?"</p> + + <p>The man grunted and slid the pistol back into its holder, satisfied. "I'm Faussel," + he said, and waved the message at Brion. "This is Ihjel's last will and testament, + relayed to us by the Nyjord blockade control. He thought he was going to die and he + sure was right. Passed on his job to you. You're in charge. I was Mervv's + second-in-command, until he was poisoned. I was supposed to work for Ihjel and now I + guess I'm yours. At least until tomorrow when we'll have everything packed and get off + this hell planet?"</p> + + <p>"What do you mean tomorrow?" Brion asked. "It's three days to deadline and we still + have a job to do."</p> + + <p>Faussel had dropped heavily into one of the seats and he sprang to his feet again, + clutching the seat back to keep his balance in the swaying car.</p> + + <p>"Three days, three weeks, three minutes—what difference does it make?" His + voice rose shrilly with each word and he had to make a definite effort to master + himself before he could go on. "Look. You don't know anything about this. You just came + and that's your bad luck. My bad luck is being assigned to this death trap and watching + the depraved and filthy things the natives do. And trying to be polite to them even + when they are killing my friends, and those Nyjord bombers up there with their hands on + the triggers. One of those bombardiers is going to start thinking about home and about + the cobalt bombs down here and he's going to press that button—deadline or no + deadline."</p> + + <p>"Sit down, Faussel. Sit down and take a rest." There was sympathy in Brion's + voice—but also the firmness of an order. Faussel swayed for a second longer, then + collapsed. He sat with his cheek against the window, eyes closed. A pulse throbbed + visibly in his temple and his lips worked. Under too much tension for too long a + time.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>This was the atmosphere that hung heavily in the air at the C.R.F. building when + they arrived. Despair and defeat. The doctor was the only one who didn't share this + mood as he bustled Lea off to the clinic with prompt efficiency. He obviously had + enough patients to keep his mind occupied. With the others the feeling <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>of depression was + unmistakable. From the first instant they had driven through the automatic garage door + Brion had swum in this miasma of defeat. It was omnipresent and hard to ignore.</p> + + <p>As soon as he had eaten he went with Faussel into what was to have been Ihjel's + office. Through the transparent walls he could see the staff packing the records, + crating them for shipment. Faussel seemed less nervous now that he was no longer in + command. Brion rejected any idea he had of letting the man know that he was only a + green novice in the Foundation. He was going to need all the authority he could muster, + since they would undoubtedly hate him for what he was going to do.</p> + + <p>"Better take notes of this Faussel, and have it typed. I'll sign it." The printed + words always carried the most authority. "All preparations for leaving are to be + stopped at once. Records are to be returned to the files. We are going to stay here + just as long as we have clearance from the Nyjorders. If this operation is + unsuccessful, we will all leave together when the time expires. We will take whatever + personal baggage we can carry by hand, everything else stays here. Perhaps you don't + realize we are here to save a planet—not file cabinets full of papers." Out of + the corner of his eye he saw Faussel flush, then angrily transcribe his notes. "As soon + as that is typed bring it back. And all the reports as to what has been accomplished on + this project. That will be all for now."</p> + + <p>Faussel stamped out and a minute later Brion saw the shocked, angry looks from the + workers in the outer office. Turning his back to them he opened the drawers in the + desk, one after another. The top drawer was empty, except for a sealed envelope. It was + addressed to Winner Ihjel.</p> + + <p>Brion looked at it thoughtfully, then ripped it open. The letter inside was + handwritten.</p> + + <div class="blockquot"> + <p><i>Ihjel:</i></p> + + <p><i>I've had the official word that you are on the way to relieve me and I am + forced to admit I feel only an intense satisfaction. You've had the experience on + these outlaw planets and can get along with the odd types. I have been specializing + in research for the last twenty years, and the only reason I was appointed planetary + supervisor on Nyjord was because of the observation and application facilities. I'm + the research type not the office type, no one has ever denied that.</i></p> + + <p><i>You're going to have trouble with the staff, so you had better realize that + they are all compulsory volunteers. Half are clerical people from my staff. The + others a mixed bag of whoever was close enough to be pulled in on this crash + assignment. It developed so fast we never saw it coming. And I'm afraid we've done + little or nothing to stop it. We can't get access to the natives here, not in the + slightest. It's frightening! They don't fit! I've done Poisson Distributions on a + dozen different factors and none of them can be equated. The</i> <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><i>Pareto + Extrapolations don't work. Our field men can't even talk to the natives and two have + been killed trying. The ruling class is unapproachable and the rest just keep their + mouths shut and walk away.</i></p> + + <p><i>I'm going to take a chance and try to talk to Lig-magte, perhaps I can make him + see sense. I doubt if it will work and there is a chance he will try violence with + me, the nobility here are very prone to violence. If I get back all right, you won't + see this note. Otherwise—good-by Ihjel, try to do a better job than I + did.</i></p> + + <p><i>Aston Mervv</i></p> + + <p><i>P.S. There is a problem with the staff. They are supposed to be saviors, but + without exception they all loathe the Disans. I'm afraid I do, too.</i></p> + </div> + + <p>Brion ticked off the relevant points in the letter. He had to find some way of + discovering what Pareto Extrapolations were—without uncovering his own lack of + knowledge. The staff would vanish in five minutes if they knew how green he was at the + job. Poisson Distribution made more sense. It was used in physics as the unchanging + probability of an event that would be true at all times. Such as the number of + particles that would be given off by a lump radioactive matter during a short period. + From the way Mervv used it in his letter it looked as if the Societics people had found + measurable applications in societies and groups—at least on other planets. None + of the rules seemed to be working on Dis. Ihjel had admitted that, and Mervv's death + had proven it. Brion wondered who this Lig-magte was who appeared to have killed + Mervv.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>A forged cough broke through Brion's concentration, and he realized that Faussel had + been standing in front of his desk for some minutes. When Brion looked up at the man he + was mopping perspiration from his face.</p> + + <p>"Your air conditioner seems to be out of order," he said. "Should I have the + mechanic look at it?"</p> + + <p>"There's nothing wrong with the machine, I'm just adapting to Dis climate. Anything + else, Faussel?"</p> + + <p>The assistant had a doubting look that he didn't succeed in hiding. He also had + trouble believing the literal truth. He placed the small stack of file folders on the + desk.</p> + + <p>"These are the reports to date, everything we have uncovered about the Disans. It's + not very much; however, considering the antisocial attitudes on this lousy world, it is + the best we could do." A sudden thought hit him, and his eyes narrowed slyly. "It can't + be helped, but some of the staff have been wondering out loud about that native that + contacted us. How did you get him to help you? We've never gotten to first base with + these people and as soon as you land you have one working for you. You can't stop + people from thinking about it, you being a newcomer and a stranger. After all, it looks + a little odd...." He broke off in mid-sentence as Brion looked up in a cold fury.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + + <p>"I can't stop people from thinking about it—but I can stop them from talking. + Our job is to contact the Disans and end this suicidal war. I have done more in one day + than all of you have done since you arrived. I have accomplished this because I am + better at my work than the rest of you. That is all the information any of you are + going to receive. You are dismissed."</p> + + <p>White with anger, Faussel turned on his heel and stamped out. Out to spread the word + about what a slave-driver the new director was. They would then all hate him + passionately which was just the way he wanted it. He couldn't risk exposure as the tyro + he was. And perhaps a new emotion, other than disgust and defeat, might jar them into a + little action. They certainly couldn't do any worse than they had been doing.</p> + + <p>It was a frightening amount of responsibility. For the first time since setting foot + on this barbaric planet Brion had time to stop and think. He was taking an awful lot + upon himself. He knew nothing about this world, nor about the powers involved in the + conflict. Here he sat pretending to be in charge of an organization he had first heard + about only a few weeks earlier. It was a frightening situation. Should he slide out + from under?</p> + + <p>There was just one possible answer, and that was <i>no</i>. Until he found someone + else who could do better, he seemed to be the one best suited for the job. And Ihjel's + opinion had to count for something. Brion had felt the surety of the man's convictions + that Brion was the only one who might possibly succeed in this difficult spot.</p> + + <p>Let it go at that. If he had any qualms, it would be best to put them behind him. + Aside from everything else there was a primary bit of loyalty involved. Ihjel had been + an Anvharian and a Winner. Maybe it was a provincial attitude to hold in this great big + universe—Anvhar was certainly far enough away from here—but honor is very + important to a man who must stand alone. He had a debt to Ihjel and he was going to pay + it off.</p> + + <p>Once the decision had been made he felt easier. There was an intercom on the desk in + front of him and he leaned with a heavy thumb on the button labeled <i>Faussel</i>.</p> + + <p>"Yes?" Even through the speaker the man's voice was cold and efficient with + ill-concealed hatred.</p> + + <p>"Who is Lig-magte? And did the former director ever return from seeing him?"</p> + + <p>"Magte is a title that means roughly noble or lord, Lig-magte is the local overlord. + He has an ugly stoneheap of a building just outside the city. He seems to be the + mouthpiece for the group of magter that are pushing this idiotic war. As to your second + question I have to answer yes and no. We found Director Mervv's head outside the door + next morning with all the skin gone. We knew it was him because the doctor identified + the bridgework in his mouth. <i>Do you understand?</i>"</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + + <p>All pretense of control had vanished and Faussel almost shrieked the last words. + They were all close to cracking up, if he was any example. Brion broke in quickly.</p> + + <p>"That will be all, Faussel. Just get word to the doctor that I would like to see him + as soon as I can." He broke the connection and opened the first of the folders. By the + time the doctor called he had skimmed the reports and was reading the relevant ones in + greater detail. Putting on his warm coat he went through the outer office. The few + workers still on duty turned their backs in frigid silence.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Dr. Stine had a pink and shiny bald head that rose above a thick black beard. Brion + liked him at once. Anyone with enough firmness of mind to keep a beard in this climate + was a pleasant exception after what he had met so far.</p> + + <p>"How's the new patient, doctor?"</p> + + <p>Stine combed his beard with stubby fingers before answering. "Diagnosis: + heat-syncope. Prognosis: complete recovery. Condition fair, considering the dehydration + and extensive sunburn. I've treated the burns and a saline drip is taking care of the + other. She just missed going into heat-shock. I have her under sedation now."</p> + + <p>"I'd like to have her up and helping me tomorrow morning. Could she do + this—with stimulants or drugs?"</p> + + <p>"She could—but I don't like it. There might be side factors, perhaps + long-standing debilitation. It's a chance."</p> + + <p>"A chance we will have to take. In less than seventy hours this planet is due for + destruction. In attempting to avert that tragedy I'm expendable as is everyone else + here. Agreed?"</p> + + <p>The doctor grunted deep in his beard and looked Brion's immense frame up and down. + "Agreed," he said, almost happily. "It is a distinct pleasure to see something beside + black defeat around here. I'll go along with you."</p> + + <p>"Well you can help me right now. I checked the personnel roster and discovered that + out of the twenty-eight people working here there isn't a physical scientist of any + kind—other than yourself."</p> + + <p>"A scruffy bunch of button-pushers and theoreticians. Not worth a damn for field + work, the whole bunch of them!" The doctor toed the floor switch on a waste receptacle + and spat into it with feeling.</p> + + <p>"Then I'm going to depend on you for some straight answers," Brion said. "This is an + un-standard operation and the standard techniques just don't begin to make sense. Even + Poisson Distributions and Pareto Extrapolations don't apply here." Stine nodded + agreement and Brion relaxed a bit. He had just relieved himself of his entire knowledge + of Societics and it had sounded authentic. "The more I look at it the more I believe + that this is a physical problem; something to so with the exotic and massive + adjustments the Disans have made to this hellish environment. Could this tie up in any + way with their absolutely suicidal attitude <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" + id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>towards the cobalt bombs?"</p> + + <p>"Could it? Could it?" Dr. Stine paced the floor rapidly on his stocky legs, twining + his fingers behind his back. "You are bloody well right it could. Someone is thinking + at last and not just punching bloody numbers into a machine and sitting and scratching + while waiting for the screen to light up with the answers. Do you know how Disans + exist?" Brion shook his head no. "The fools here think it disgusting, but I call it + fascinating. The have found ways to join in a symbiotic relationship with the life + forms on this planet. Even a <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'parisitic'">parasitic</ins> relationship. You must + realize, that living organisms will do anything to survive. Castaways at sea will drink + any liquid at all in their search for water. Disgust at this is only the attitude of + the over-protected who have never experienced extreme thirst or hunger. Well, here on + Dis you have a planet of castaways."</p> + + <p>Stine opened the door of the pharmacy. "This talk of thirst makes me dry." With + economically efficient motions he poured grain alcohol into a beaker, thinned it with + distilled water and flavored it with some flavor crystals from a bottle. He filled two + glasses and handed Brion one. It didn't taste bad at all.</p> + + <p><ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: opening double-quote omitted in original">"</ins>How do you mean + parasitic, doctor? Aren't we all parasites of the lower life forms? Meat animals, + vegetables and such?"</p> + + <p>"No, no—you miss the point! I speak of parasitic in the exact meaning of the + word. You must realize that to a biologist there is no real difference between a + parasitism, symbiosis, mutualism, biontergasy, commensalism—"</p> + + <p>"Stop, stop!" Brion said. "Those are just meaningless sounds to me. If that is what + makes this planet tick, I'm beginning to see why the rest of the staff has that lost + feeling."</p> + + <p>"It is just a matter of degree of the same thing. Look. You have a kind of + crustacean living in the lakes here, very much like an ordinary crab. It has large + claws in which it holds anemones, tentacled sea animals with no power of motion. The + crustacean waves these around to gather food, and eats the pieces they capture that are + too big for them. This is biontergasy, two creatures living and working together, yet + each capable of existing alone. Now, this same crustacean has a parasite living under + its shell, a degenerated form of a snail that has lost all powers of movement. A true + parasite that takes food from its host's body and gives nothing in return. Inside this + snail's gut there is a protozoan that lives off the snail's ingested food. Yet this + little organism is not a parasite as you might think at first, but a symbiote. It takes + food from the snail, but at the same time it secretes a chemical that aids the snail's + digestion of the food. Do you get the picture? All these <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'live'">life</ins> forms exist in a complicated + <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'interpendence'">interdependence</ins>."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion frowned in concentration, sipping at the drink. "It's making some kind of + sense now. Symbiosis, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg + 107]</a></span>parasitism and all the rest are just ways of describing variations of + the same basic process of living together. And there is probably a grading and shading + between some of these that make the exact relationship hard to define."</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image9.jpg" width="600" + height="561" alt="" /></div> + + <p>"Precisely. Existence is so difficult on this world that the competing forms have + almost died out. There are still a few left, preying off the others. It was the + co-operating and interdependent life forms that really won out in the race for + survival. I say life forms with intent; the creatures here are mostly a mixture of + plant and animal, like the lichens you have elsewhere. The Disans have a creature they + call a vaede that they use for water when traveling. It has rudimentary powers of + motion from its animal parts, yet uses photosynthesis and stores water like a plant. + When the Disans drink from it the thing taps their blood stream for food elements."</p> + + <p>"I know," Brion said wryly. "I drank from one. You can see my scars. I'm beginning + to comprehend how the Disans fit into the physical pattern of their world, and I + realize it must have all kinds of psychological <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>effects on them. Do you think this has any + effect on their social organization?"</p> + + <p>"An important one. But maybe I'm making too many suppositions now, perhaps your + researchers upstairs can tell you better, after all this is their field."</p> + + <p>Brion had studied the reports on the social setup and not one word of them made + sense. They were a solid maze of unknown symbols and cryptic charts. "Please continue, + doctor," he insisted. "The Societics reports are valueless so far. There are factors + missing. You are the only one I have talked to so far who can give me any intelligent + reports or answers."</p> + + <p>"All right then—be it on your own head. The way I see it you've got no society + here at all, just a bunch of rugged individualists. Each one for himself, getting + nourishment from the other life forms of the planet. If they have a society, it is + orientated towards the rest of the planetary life—instead of towards other human + beings. Perhaps that's why your figures don't make sense. They are setup for human + societies. In their relations with each other these people are completely + different."</p> + + <p>"What about the magter, the upper-class types who build castles and are causing all + this trouble?"</p> + + <p>"I have no explanation," Dr. Stine grumbled. "My theories hold water and seem + logical enough up to this point. But the magter are the exception and I have no idea + why. They are completely different from the rest of the Disans. Argumentative, + bloodthirsty, looking for planetary conquest instead of peace. They aren't rulers, not + in the real sense. They hold power because nobody else wants it. They grant mining + concessions to offworlders because they are the only ones with a sense of property. + Maybe I'm going out on a limb. But if you can find out <i>why</i> they are so different + you may be onto the clue to our difficulties."</p> + + <p>For the first time since his arrival Brion began to feel a touch of enthusiasm. Plus + the remote possibility that there might even be a solution to the deadly problem. He + drained his glass and stood up. "I hope you'll wake your patient early, doctor. You + might be as interested in talking to her as I am. If what you told me is true, she + could well be our key to the answer. Her name is Professor Lea Morees and she is just + out from Earth with degrees in exobiology and anthropology, and has a head stuffed with + vital facts."</p> + + <p>"Wonderful!" Stine said. "I shall take care of the head not only because it is so + pretty but because of its knowledge. Though we totter on the edge of atomic destruction + I have a strange feeling of optimism—for the first time since I landed on this + planet."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + + <p>The guard inside the front entrance of the Foundation building jumped at the + thunderous noise and reached for his gun. He dropped his hand sheepishly when he + realized it was only a sneeze—though a gargantuan <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>one. Brion came up, sniffling, huddling + down into his coat. "I'm going out before I catch pneumonia," he said. The guard + saluted dumbly and after checking his proximity detector screens he turned off the + light and opened the door. Brion slipped out and the heavy portal thudded shut behind + him. The street was still warm from the heat of the day and he sighed happily and + opened his coat.</p> + + <p>This was partially a reconnaissance trip—and partly to get warmed up. There + was little else he could do in the building, the staff had long since retired. He had + slept himself, for half an hour, and now was refreshed and ready to work. All of the + reports he could understand had been read and reread until they were memorized. He + could use the time now, while the rest of them were asleep, to get better acquainted + with the main city of Dis.</p> + + <p>As he walked the dark streets he realized how alien the Disan way of life was to + everything he knew. This city—Hovedstad—literally meant "main place" in the + native language. And that's all it was. It was only the presence of the offworlders + that made it into a city. Building after building, standing deserted, bore the names of + mining companies, traders, space transporters. None of them were occupied now. Some + still had lights burning, switched on by automatic apparatus, others were as dark as + the Disan structures. There weren't many of these native constructions and they seemed + out of place among the rammed earth and prefab offworld buildings. Brion examined one + that was dimly illumined by the light on the corner of VEGAN SMELTERS, LTD.</p> + + <p>It consisted of a single large room, resting flat on the ground. There were no + windows and the whole thing appeared to have been constructed of some sort of woven + material plastered with stone-hard mud. There was nothing blocking the door and he was + thinking seriously of going in when he became aware that he was being followed.</p> + + <p>It was only a slight noise, almost lost in the night. Normally it would never have + been noticed, but tonight Brion was listening with his entire body. Someone was behind + him, swallowed up in the pools of darkness. Brion shrank back against the wall. There + was very little chance this could be anyone but a Disan. He had a sudden memory of + Mervv's severed head as it had been discovered outside the door.</p> + + <p>Ihjel had helped him train his empathetic sense and he reached out with it. It was + difficult working in the dark, he could be sure of nothing. Was he getting a + reaction—or just wishing for one? Why did it have a ring of familiarity to it. A + sudden idea struck him.</p> + + <p>"Ulv," he said, very softly. "This is Brion." He crouched, ready for any attack.</p> + + <p>"I know," a voice said softly in the night. "Do not talk. Walk in the direction you + were going before."</p> + + <p>Asking questions now would accomplish <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id= + "Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>nothing. Brion turned instantly and did as he was bidden. + The buildings grew farther apart until he realized from the sand underfoot that he was + back in the planet-wide desert. It could be a trap—he hadn't recognized the voice + behind the whisper—yet he still had to take this chance. A darker shape appeared + in the dark night near him, and a burning hot hand touched his arm lightly.</p> + + <p>"We can talk here." The words were louder and this time Brion recognized the voice. + "I have brought you to the city as I told you I would. Have you done as you said you + would?"</p> + + <p>"I am doing it—but I need your help, Ulv. It is your life that needs saving + and you must do your part—"</p> + + <p>"What is truth?" Ulv interrupted. "All I hear is difference. The magter have done + well though they live the wrong way. I myself have had bronze from them and there is + water just for going. Now they tell us they are getting a different world for us all + from the sky people and that is good, too. Your people are the essence of evil and + there is no harm in killing them."</p> + + <p>"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"</p> + + <p>"I could have. But there is something more important. What is truth? What is on the + papers that fall from the sky?" He sighed once, deeply. "There are black marks on them + that some can tell meaning from. What did the ship voices mean when they said the + magter were destroying the world and must be put down? I did not hear the voices, but I + know one who did and he went to talk to Lig-magte which was foolish, because he was + killed as he should have known he would be."</p> + + <p>"The ships were telling you the truth, Ulv. The magter have bombs that will destroy + Nyjord—the next planet—there." He pointed to the star newly rising in the + east. "The bombs cannot be stopped. Unless the bombs are found or the magter drop their + suicidal plans, this planet will burst into flames in three days time."</p> + + <p>Ulv turned and started away. Brion called after him. "Wait. Will you help me stop + this? How can I find you again?"</p> + + <p>"I must think," the Disan answered still moving away. "I will find you."</p> + + <p>He was gone. Brion shivered in the sudden chill of the air, and wrapped the coat + tighter around him. He started walking back towards the warmer streets of the city.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>It was dawn when he reached the Foundation building; a new guard was at the front + entrance. No amount of hammering or threats could convince the man to open until + Faussel came down, yawning and blinking with sleep. He was starting some complaint when + Brion cut him off curtly and ordered him to finish dressing and report for work at + once. Still feeling elated he steamed into his office and cursed the overly-efficient + character who had turned on his air conditioner to chill the room again. When he turned + it off this time he removed enough of the vital parts <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>to keep it out of order for the + duration.</p> + + <p>When Faussel came in he was still yawning behind his fist. Obviously a low + morning-sugar type. "Before you fall on your face, go out and get some coffee," Brion + said. "Two cups. I'll have a cup, too."</p> + + <p>"That won't be necessary," Faussel said, drawing himself up stiffly. "I'll call the + canteen if you wish some." He said it in the iciest tone he could manage this early in + the morning.</p> + + <p>In his enthusiasm Brion had forgotten the hate campaign he had directed against + himself. "Suit yourself," he snapped, getting back into the role. "But the next time + you yawn there'll be a negative entry in your service record. If that's clear—you + can brief me on this organization's visible relations with the Disans. How do they take + us?"</p> + + <p>Faussel choked and swallowed a yawn. "I believe they look on the C.R.F people as + some species of simpleton, sir. They hate all offworlders, memory of their desertion + has been passed on verbally for generations. So by their one-to-one logic we should + either hate back or go away. We stay instead. And give them food, water, medicine and + artifacts. Because of this they let us remain on sufferance. I imagine they consider us + do-gooder idiots, and, as long as we cause no trouble, they'll let us stay." He was + struggling miserably to suppress a yawn, so Brion turned his back and gave him a chance + to get it out.</p> + + <p>"What about the Nyjorders? How much do they know of our work?" Brion looked out the + window at dusty buildings, outlined in purple against the violent colors of the desert + sunrise.</p> + + <p>"Nyjord is a co-operating planet, and has full knowledge at all executive levels. + They are giving us all the aid they can."</p> + + <p>"Well now is the time to ask for more. Can I contact the commander of the blockading + fleet?"</p> + + <p>"There is a scrambler connection right through to him. I'll set it up." Faussel bent + over the desk and punched a number into the phone controls. The screen flowed with the + black and white patterns of the scrambler.</p> + + <p>"That's all, Faussel. I want privacy for this talk. What's the commander's + name?"</p> + + <p>"Professor Krafft, he's a physicist. They have no military men at all, so they + called him in for the construction of the bombs and energy weapons. He's still in + charge." Faussel yawned extravagantly as he went out the door.</p> + + <p>The professor-commander was very old, with wispy gray hair and a network of wrinkles + surrounding his eyes. His image shimmered then cleared as the scrambler units + aligned.</p> + + <p>"You must be Brion Brandd," he said. "I have to tell you how sorry we all are that + your friend Ihjel—and the two others—had to die. After coming so far to + help us. I'm sure you are very happy to have had a friend like that."</p> + + <p>"Why ... yes, of course," Brion <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id= + "Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>said, reaching for the scattered fragments of his thought + processes. It took an effort to remember the first conflict now that he was worrying + about the death of a planet. "Very kind of you to mention it. But I would like to find + out a few things about you, if I could."</p> + + <p>"Anything at all, we are at your disposal. Before we begin though, I shall pass on + the thanks of our council for your aid in joining us. Even if we are eventually forced + to drop the bombs, we shall never forget that your organization did everything possible + to avert the disaster."</p> + + <p>Once again Brion was caught off balance. For an instant he wondered if Krafft was + being insincere, then recognized the baseness of this thought. The completeness of the + man's humanity was obvious and compelling. The thought passed through Brion's mind that + now he had an additional reason for wanting the war ended without destruction on either + side. He very much wanted to visit Nyjord and see these people on their home + grounds.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Professor Krafft waited, patiently and silently, while Brion pulled his thoughts + together and answered. "I still hope that this thing can be stopped in time. That's + what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to see Lig-magte and I thought it would be + better if I had a legitimate reason. Are you in contact with him?"</p> + + <p>Krafft shook his head. "No, not really in contact. When this trouble started I sent + him a transceiver so we could talk directly. But he has delivered his ultimatum, + speaking for the <i>magter</i>. The only terms he will hear are unconditional + surrender. His receiver is on but he has said that is the only message he will + answer."</p> + + <p>"Not much chance of him ever being told that," Brion said.</p> + + <p>"There was—at one time. I hope you realize Brion that the decision to bomb Dis + was not easily arrived at. A great many people—myself included—<ins class= + "correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'vote'">voted</ins> for + unconditional surrender. We lost the vote by a very small margin."</p> + + <p>Brion was getting used to these philosophical body blows and he rolled with the + punches now. "Are there any of your people left on this planet? Or do you have any + troops I can call on for help? This is still a remote possibility, but, if I do find + out where the bombs or the launcher are, a surprise raid would knock them out."</p> + + <p>"We have no people left in Hovedstad now—all the ones who weren't evacuated + were killed. But there are commando teams standing by here to make a landing if the + weapons are detected. The Disans must depend on secrecy to protect their armament since + we have both the manpower and the technology to reach any objective. We also have + technicians and other volunteers looking for the weapon sites. They have not been + successful as yet, and most of them were killed soon after landing." Krafft hesitated + for a moment. "There is another group that you should know about, you will need all the + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>factors. + There are some of our people in the desert outside of Hovedstad. We do not officially + approve of them, though they have a good deal of popular support. Mostly young men, + operating as raiders, killing and destroying with very little compunction. They are + attempting to uncover the weapons by sheer strength of arms."</p> + + <p>This was the best news yet. Brion controlled his voice and kept his expression calm + when he spoke. "I don't know how far I can stretch your co-operation—but could + you possibly tell me how to contact them?"</p> + + <p>Krafft allowed himself a small smile. "I'll give you the wave length on which you + can reach their radio. They call themselves the 'Nyjord Army.' When you talk to them + you can do me a favor. Pass on a message. Just to prove things aren't bad + enough—they've become a little worse. One of our technical crews has detected + jump-space energy transmissions in the planetary crust. The Disans are apparently + testing their projector, sooner than we had estimated. Our deadline has been revised by + one day. I'm afraid there are only two days left before you must evacuate." His eyes + were large with compassion. "I'm sorry. I know this will make your job that much + harder."</p> + + <p>Brion didn't want to think about the loss of a full day from his already small + deadline. "Have you told the Disans this as yet?"</p> + + <p>"No," Krafft told him. "The decision was reached just a few minutes before your + call. It is going on the radio to Lig-magte now."</p> + + <p>"Can you cancel the transmission and let me take the message in person?"</p> + + <p>"I can do that," Krafft thought for a moment, "but it would surely mean your death + at their hands. They have no hesitation in killing any of our people. I would prefer to + send it by radio."</p> + + <p>"If you do that, you will be interfering with my plans, and perhaps destroying them + under the guise of saving my life. Isn't my life my own—to dispose of as I + will?"</p> + + <p>For the first time, Professor Krafft was upset. "I'm sorry, terribly sorry. I'm + letting my concerns and worry wash over into my public affairs. Of course you may do as + you please. I could never think of stopping you." He turned and said something + inaudible offscreen. "The call is cancelled. The responsibility is yours. All our + wishes for success go with you. End of transmission."</p> + + <p>"End of transmission," Brion said, and the screen went dark.</p> + + <p>"Faussel!" he shouted into the intercom. "Get me the best and fastest sandcar we + have, a driver who knows his way around and two men, who can handle a gun and know how + to take orders. We're going to get some positive action at last."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + + <p>"It's suicide," the taller guard grumbled.</p> + + <p>"Mine not yours, so don't worry <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id= + "Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>about it," Brion snapped at him. "Your job is to remember + your orders and keep them straight. Now—let's hear them again."</p> + + <p>The guard rolled his eyes up in silent rebellion and repeated in a toneless voice. + "We stay here in the car and keep the motor running while you go inside the stone pile + there. We don't let anybody in the car and we try and keep them clear of the + car—short of shooting them that is. We don't come in no matter what happens or + what it looks like, but wait for you here. Unless you call on the radio in which case + we come in with the automatics going and shoot the place up and it doesn't matter who + we hit. This will only be used as a last resort."</p> + + <p>"See if you can't arrange that last resort thing if you can," the other guard said, + patting the heavy blue barrel of his weapon.</p> + + <p>"I meant that <i>last</i> resort," Brion said angrily. "If any guns go off without + my permission, you will pay for it and pay with your necks. I want that clearly + understood. You are here as a rear guard and a base for me to get back to. This is my + operation and mine alone—unless I call you in. Understood?"</p> + + <p>He waited until all three men had nodded in agreement, then checked the charge on + his gun. Fully loaded. It would be foolish not to go in armed. But he had to. One gun + wouldn't save him. He put it aside. The button radio on his collar was working and had + a strong enough signal to get through any number of walls. He took off his coat, threw + open the door and stepped out into the searing brilliance of the Disan noon.</p> + + <p>There was only the desert silence, broken by the steady throb of the car's motor + behind him. Stretching away to the horizon in every direction were the eternal deserts + of sand. The keep stood nearby, solitary, a massive pile of black rocks. Brion plodded + closer, watching for any motion from the walls. Nothing stirred. The high-walled, + irregularly shaped construction sat in a ponderous silence. Brion was sweating now, + only partially from the heat.</p> + + <p>He circled the thing, looking for a gate. There wasn't one at ground level. A + slanting cleft in the stone could be climbed easily, but it seemed incredible that this + might be the only entrance. A complete circuit proved that it was. Brion looked + unhappily at the slanting and broken ramp, then cupped his hands and shouted + loudly.</p> + + <p>"I'm coming up. Your radio doesn't work any more. I'm bringing the message from + Nyjord that you have been waiting to hear." A slight bending of the truth without + fracturing it. There was no answer. Just the hiss of wind-blown sand against the rock + and the mutter of the car in the background. He started to climb.</p> + + <p>The rock underfoot was crumbling and he had to watch where he put his feet. At the + same time he fought a constant impulse to look up, watching for anything falling from + above. Nothing happened. When he reached <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id= + "Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>the top of the wall he was breathing hard, sweat + moistened his body. There was still no one in sight. He stood on an unevenly shaped + wall that appeared to circle the building. Instead of a courtyard inside it, the wall + was the outer face of the structure, the domed roof rising from it. At varying + intervals dark openings gave access to the interior. When Brion looked down the sandcar + was just a dun-colored bump in the desert, already far behind him.</p> + + <p>Stooping, he went through the nearest door. There was still no one in sight. The + room inside was something out of a madman's funhouse. It was higher than it was wide, + irregular, and more like a hallway than a room. At one end it merged into an incline + that became a stairwell. The other ended in a hole that vanished in darkness below. + Light of sorts filtered in through slots and holes drilled into the thick stone wall. + Everything was built of the same crumble-textured but strong rock. Brion took the + stairs. After a number of blind passages and wrong turns he saw a stronger light ahead. + There was food, metal, even artifacts of the unusual Disan design in the different + rooms he passed through. Yet no people. The light ahead grew stronger as he approached, + the passageway opening and swelling out until it met the larger central chamber.</p> + + <p>This was the heart of the strange structure. All the rooms, passageways and halls + existed just to give form to this gigantic hall. The walls rose sharply, the room + circular in cross section and growing narrower towards the top. It was a truncated cone + since there was no ceiling; a hot blue disk of sky cast light on the floor below.</p> + + <p>On the floor stood a knot of men staring at Brion.</p> + + <p>Out of the corner of his eyes, and with the very periphery of his consciousness, he + was aware of the rest of the room. Barrels, stores, machinery, a radio transceiver, + various bundles and heaps that made no sense at first glance. There was no time to look + closer. Every fraction of his attention was focused on the muffled and hooded men.</p> + + <p>He had found the enemy.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Everything that happened to him so far on Dis had been preparation for this moment. + The attack in the desert, the escape, the dreadful heat of sun and sand. All this had + tempered and prepared him. It had been nothing in itself. Now the battle would begin in + earnest.</p> + + <p>None of this was conscious. His fighter's reflexes bent his shoulders, curved his + hands before him as he walked softly in balance, ready to spring in any direction. Yet + none of this was really necessary. All the danger so far was nonphysical. When he gave + this thought conscious thought he stopped, startled. What was wrong here? None of the + men had moved or made a sound. How could he even know they were men? They were so + muffled and wrapped in cloth that only their eyes were exposed.</p> + + <p>No doubt existed in Brion's mind. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id= + "Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>In spite of muffled cloth and silence he knew them for + what they were. The eyes were empty of expression and unmoving, yet filled with the + same negative emptiness as a bird of prey. They could look on life, death, and the + rending of flesh with the same lack of interest and compassion. All this Brion knew in + an instant of time, without words being spoken. Between the time he lifted one foot and + walked a step he understood what he had to face. There could be no doubt, not to an + empathetic.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 218px;"><img src="images/image10.jpg" width="218" + height="600" alt="" title="" /></div> + + <p>From the group of silent men poured a frost-white wave of unemotion. An empathetic + shares what other men feel. He gets his knowledge of their reaction by sensing lightly + their emotions, the surges of interest, hate, love, fear, desire, the sweep of large + and small sensations that accompany all thought and action. The empathetic is always + aware of this constant and silent surge, whether he makes the effort to understand it + or not. He is like a man glancing across the open pages of a tableful of books. He can + see that the type, words, paragraphs, thoughts are there even without focusing his + attention to understand any of it.</p> + + <p>Then how does the man feel when he glances at the open books and sees only blank + pages? The books are there—the words are not. He turns the pages of one, then + others, flipping pages, searching for meaning. There is no meaning. All of the pages + are blank.</p> + + <p>This was the way in which the magter were blank, without emotions. <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>There was a barely sensed + surge and return that must have been neural impulses on a basic level. The automatic + adjustments of nerve and muscle that keep an organism alive. Nothing more. Brion + reached for other sensations and there was nothing there to grasp. Either these men + were apparently without emotions or they were able to block them from his detection, it + was impossible to tell which.</p> + + <p>Very little time has passed in the objective world while Brion made these + discoveries. The knot of men still looked at him, silent and unmoving. They weren't + expectant, their attitude could not have been called interest. But he had come to them + and now they waited to find out why. Any questions or statements they spoke would be + redundant, so they didn't speak. The responsibility was his.</p> + + <p>"I have come to talk with Lig-magte. Who is he?" Brion didn't like the tiny sound + his voice made in the immense room.</p> + + <p>One of the men gave a slight motion to draw attention to himself. None of the others + moved. They still waited.</p> + + <p>"I have a message for you," Brion said, talking slowly to fill the silence of the + room and the emptiness of his thoughts. This had to be handled right. But what was + right? "I'm from the Foundation in the city, as you undoubtedly know. I've been talking + to the people on Nyjord. They have a message for you."</p> + + <p>The silence grew longer. Brion had no intention of making this a monologue. He + needed facts to operate, to form an opinion. Looking at the silent forms was telling + him nothing. Time stretched taut and finally Lig-magte spoke.</p> + + <p>"The Nyjorders are going to surrender."</p> + + <p>It was an impossibly strange sentence. Brion had never realized before how much of + the content of speech was made up of emotion. If the man had given it a positive + emphasis, perhaps said it with enthusiasm, it would have meant, "Success! The enemy is + going to surrender!" This wasn't the meaning.</p> + + <p>With a rising inflection on the end it would have been a question. "Are they going + to surrender?" It was neither of these. The sentence carried no other message than that + contained in the simplest meanings of the separate words. It had intellectual + connotations, but these could only be gained from past knowledge, not from the sound of + the words. There was only one message they were prepared to receive from Nyjord. + Therefore, Brion was bringing the message. If that was not the message Brion was + bringing, the men here were not interested.</p> + + <p>This was the vital fact. If they were not interested he could have no further value + to them. Since he came from the enemy he was the enemy. Therefore, he would be killed. + Because this was vital to his existence Brion took the time to follow the thought + through. It made logical sense—and logic was all he could depend on now. He could + be talking to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg + 118]</a></span>robots or alien creatures for the amount of human response he was + receiving.</p> + + <p>"You can't win this war—all you can do is hurry your own deaths." He said this + with as much conviction as he could, realizing at the same time that it was wasted + effort. No flicker of response stirred in the men before him. "The Nyjorders know you + have cobalt bombs, and they have detected your jump-space projector. They can't take + any more chances. They have pushed the deadline closer by an entire day. There are one + and a half days left before the bombs fall and you are all destroyed. Do you realize + what that means—"</p> + + <p>"Is that the message?" Lig-magte asked.</p> + + <p>"Yes," Brion said.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Two things saved his life then. He had guessed what would happen as soon as they had + his message, though he hadn't been sure. But even the suspicion had put him on his + guard. This, combined with the reflexes of a Winner of the Twenties, was barely enough + to enable him to survive.</p> + + <p>From frozen mobility Lig-magte had catapulted into headlong attack. As he leaped + forward he drew a curved, double-edged blade from under his robes. It plunged + unerringly through the spot where Brion's body had been an instant before.</p> + + <p>There had been no time to tense his muscles and jump, just space to relax them and + fall to one side. His reasoning mind joined the battle as he hit the floor. Lig-magte + plunged by him, turning and bringing the knife down at the same time. Brion's foot + lashed out and caught the other man's leg, sending him sprawling.</p> + + <p>They were both on their feet at the same instant, facing each other. Brion now had + his hands clasped before him in the unarmed man's best defense against a knife, the two + arms protecting the body, the two hands joined to beat aside the knife arm from + whichever direction it came. The Disan hunched low, flipped the knife quickly from hand + to hand, then thrust it again at Brion's midriff.</p> + + <p>Only by the merest fractional margin did Brion evade the attack for the second time. + Lig-magte fought with complete violence. Every action was as intense as possible, + deadly and thorough. There could be only one end to this unequal contest if Brion + stayed on the defensive. The man with the knife had to win.</p> + + <p>With the next <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'change'">charge</ins> Brion changed tactics. He + leaped inside the thrust, clutching for the knife arm. A burning slice of pain cut + across his arm, then his fingers clutched the tendoned wrist. Clamped down hard, + grinding shut, compressing with the tightening intensity of a closing vise.</p> + + <p>It was all he could do to simply hold on. There was no science in it, just his + greater strength from exercise and existence on a heavier planet. All of this strength + went to his clutching hand, because he held his own life in that hand, forcing away the + knife that wanted to terminate it forever. Nothing else mattered. Neither the + frightening force <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg + 119]</a></span>of the knees that thudded into his body nor the hooked fingers that + reached for his eyes to tear them out. He protected his face as well as he could, while + the nails tore furrows through his flesh and the cut on his arm bled freely. These were + only minor things to be endured. His life depended on the grasp of the fingers of his + right hand.</p> + + <p>There was a sudden immobility as he succeeded in clutching Lig-magte's other arm. It + was a good grip and he could hold the arm immobilized. They had reached stasis, + standing knee to knee, their faces only a few inches apart. The muffling cloth had + fallen from the Disan's face during the struggle and empty, frigid eyes stared into + Brion's. No flicker of emotion crossed the harsh planes of the other man's face. A + great puckered white scar covered one cheek and pulled up a corner of the mouth in a + cheerless grimace. It was false, there was still no expression here. Even when the pain + must be growing more intense.</p> + + <p>Brion was winning—if no one broke the impasse. His greater weight and strength + counted now. The Disan would have to drop the knife before his arm was dislocated at + the shoulder. He didn't do it. With sudden horror Brion realized that he wasn't going + to drop it—no matter what happened.</p> + + <p>A dull, hideous snap jerked through the Disan's body and the arm hung limp and dead. + No expression crossed the other man's face. The knife was still locked in the fingers + of the paralyzed hand. With his other hand Lig-magte reached across and started to pry + the blade loose, ready to continue the battle one-handed. Brion raised his foot and + kicked the knife free, sending it spinning across the room.</p> + + <p>Lig-magte made a fist of his good hand and crashed it into Brion's body. He was + still fighting, as if nothing had changed. Brion backed slowly away from the man. "Stop + it," he said. "You can't win now. It's impossible." He called to the other men who were + watching the unequal battle with expressionless immobility. No one answered him.</p> + + <p>With a terrible sinking sensation Brion then realized what would happen and what he + had to do. Lig-magte was as heedless of his own life as he was of the life of his + planet. He would press the attack no matter what damage was done to him. Brion had an + insane vision of him breaking the man's other arm, fracturing both his legs, and the + limbless broken creature still coming forward. Crawling, rolling, teeth bared since + they were the only remaining weapon.</p> + + <p>There was only one way to end it. Brion feinted and the Lig-magte's arm moved clear + of his body. The engulfing cloth was thin and through it Brion could see the outlines + of the Disan's abdomen and rib cage. The clear location of the great nerve + ganglion.</p> + + <p>It was the death blow of the kara-te. Brion had never used it on a man. In practice + he had broken heavy boards, splintering them instantly <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>with the short, precise stroke. The + stiffened hand moving forward in a sudden surge, all the weight and energy of his body + concentrated in his joined fingertips. Plunging deep into the other's flesh.</p> + + <p>Killing, not by accident or in sudden anger. Killing because this was the only way + the battle could possibly end.</p> + + <p>Like a ruined tower of flesh the Disan crumpled and fell.</p> + + <p>Dripping blood, exhausted, Brion stood over the body of Lig-magte and stared at the + dead man's allies.</p> + + <p>Death filled the room.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + + <p>Facing the silent Disans, Brion's thoughts hurtled about in sweeping circles. There + would be no more than an instant's tick of time before the magter avenged themselves + bloodily and completely. He felt a fleeting regret for not having brought his gun, then + abandoned the thought. There was no time for regrets—what could he do NOW.</p> + + <p>The silent watchers hadn't attacked instantly, and Brion realized that they couldn't + be positive yet that Lig-magte had been killed. Only Brion knew the deadliness of that + blow. Their lack of knowledge might buy him a little more time.</p> + + <p>"Lig-magte is unconscious, but will revive quickly," Brion said, pointing at the + huddled body. As the eyes turned automatically to follow his finger, he began walking + slowly towards the exit. "I did not want to do this, but he forced me to, because he + wouldn't listen to reason. Now I have something else to show you, something that I + hoped it would not be necessary to reveal."</p> + + <p>He was saying the first words that came into his head, trying to keep them + distracted as long as possible. He must only appear to be going across the room, that + was the feeling he must generate. There was even time to stop for a second and + straighten his rumpled clothing and brush the sweat from his eyes. Talking easily, + walking slowly towards the hall out of the chamber. He was halfway there when the spell + broke and the rush began. One of the magter knelt and touched the body, and shouted a + single word.</p> + + <p>"Dead."</p> + + <p>Brion hadn't waited for the official announcement. At the first movement of feet he + dived headlong for the shelter of the exit. There was a spatter of tiny missiles on the + wall next to him and he had a brief glimpse of raised blowguns before the wall + intervened. He went up the dimly-lit stairs five at a time.</p> + + <p>The pack was just behind him, voiceless and deadly. He could not gain on + them—if anything they closed the distance as he pushed his already tired body to + the utmost. There was no subtlety or trick he could use now, just straightforward + flight back the way he had come. A single slip on the irregular steps and it would be + all over.</p> + + <p>There was someone ahead of him. If the woman had waited a few seconds <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>more, he would certainly + have been killed. But instead of slashing at him as he went by the doorway she made the + mistake of rushing to the center of the stairs, the knife ready to impale him as he + came up. Without slowing Brion fell onto his hands and easily dodged under the blow. As + he passed he twisted and seized her around the waist, picking her from the ground.</p> + + <p>When her legs lifted from under her the woman screamed—the first human sound + Brion had heard in this human anthill. His pursuers were just behind him, and he hurled + the woman into them with all his strength. They fell in a tangle and Brion used the + precious seconds gained to reach the top of the building.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>There must have been other stairs and exits because one of the magter stood between + Brion and the way down out of this trap. Armed and ready to kill him if he tried to + pass.</p> + + <p>As he ran towards the executioner, Brion flicked on his collar radio and shouted + into it. "I'm in trouble here, can you—"</p> + + <p>The guards in the car must have been waiting for this message. Before he had + finished there was the thud of a high-velocity slug hitting flesh and the Disan spun + and fell, blood soaking his shoulder. Brion leaped over him and headed for the + ramp.</p> + + <p>"The next one is me—hold your fire!" he called.</p> + + <p>Both guards must have had their telescopic sights zeroed on the spot. They let Brion + pass, then threw in a hail of semiautomatic fire that tore chunks from the stone and + screamed away in noisy ricochets. Brion didn't try to see if anyone was braving this + hail of covering fire; he concentrated his energies on making as quick and erratic a + descent as he could. Above the sounds of the firing he heard the car motor howl as it + leaped forward. With their careful aim spoiled, the gunners switched to full automatic + and unleashed a hailstorm of flying metal that bracketed the top of the tower.</p> + + <p>"Cease ... firing!" Brion gasped into the radio as he ran. The driver was good and + timed his arrival with exactitude. The car reached the base of the tower at the same + instant Brion did, and he burst through the door while it was still moving. No orders + were necessary. He fell headlong onto a seat as the car swung in a dust-raising turn + and ground into high gear back to the city.</p> + + <p>Reaching over carefully, the tall guard gently extracted a bit of pointed wood and + fluff from a fold of Brion's pants. He cracked open the car door, and just as + delicately threw it out.</p> + + <p>"I knew that thing didn't touch you," he said, "since you are still among the + living. They got a poison on those blowgun darts that takes all of twelve seconds to + work. Lucky."</p> + + <p>Lucky! Brion was beginning to realize just how lucky he was to be out of the trap + alive. With information. Now that he knew more about the <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>magter he shuddered at his innocence in + walking alone and unarmed into the tower. Skill had helped him survive—but better + than average luck had been necessary. Curiosity had gotten him in, brashness and speed + had taken him out. He was exhausted, battered and bloody—but cheerfully happy. + The facts about the magter were shaping themselves into a theory that might explain + their attempt at racial suicide. It just needed a little time to be put into shape.</p> + + <p>A pain cut across his arm and he jumped, startled, pieces of his thoughts crashing + into ruin around him. The gunner had cracked the first aid box and was swabbing his arm + with antiseptic. The knife wound was long, but not deep. Brion shivered while the + bandage was going on, then quickly slipped into his coat. The air conditioner whined + industriously, bringing down the temperature.</p> + + <p>There was no attempt to follow the car. When the black tower had dropped over the + horizon the guards relaxed, ran cleaning rods through their guns and compared + marksmanship. All of their antagonism towards Brion was gone—they actually smiled + at him. He had given them the first chance to shoot back since they had been on this + planet.</p> + + <p>The ride was uneventful and Brion was scarcely aware of it. A theory was taking form + in his mind. It was radical, unusual and startling—yet it seemed to be the only + one that fitted the facts. He pushed at it from all sides, but if there were any holes + he couldn't find them. What it needed was dispassionate proving or disproving. There + was only one person on Dis who was qualified to do this.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Lea was working in the lab when he came in, bent over a low-power binocular + microscope. Something small, limbless and throbbing was on the slide. She glanced up + when she heard his footsteps, smiling warmly when she recognized him. Fatigue and pain + had drawn her face, her skin glistening with burn ointment, was chapped and peeling. "I + must look a wreck," she said, putting the back of her hand to her cheek. "Something + like a well-oiled and lightly cooked piece of beef." She lowered her arm suddenly and + took his hand in both of hers. Her palms were warm and slightly moist.</p> + + <p>"Thank you, Brion," was all she could say. Her society on Earth was highly civilized + and sophisticated, able to discuss any topic without emotion and without embarrassment. + This was fine in most circumstances, but made it difficult to thank a person for saving + your life. However you tried to phrase it, it came out sounding like a last act speech + from an historical play. There was no doubt, however, as to what she meant. Her eyes + were large and dark, the pupils dilated by the drugs she had been given. They could not + lie, nor could the emotions he sensed. He did not answer, just held her hand an instant + longer.</p> + + <p>"How do you feel?" he asked, concerned. His conscience twinged as he <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>remembered that he was + the one who had ordered her out of bed and back to work today.</p> + + <p>"I should be feeling terrible," she said, with an airy wave of her hand. "But I'm + walking on top of the world. I'm so loaded with pain-killers and stimulants that I'm + high as the moon. All the nerves to my feet feel turned off—it's like walking on + two balls of fluff. Thanks for getting me out of that awful hospital and back to + work."</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image11.jpg" width="600" + height="316" alt="" /></div> + + <p>Brion was suddenly ashamed of having driven her from her sick bed. "Don't be sorry!" + Lea said, apparently reading his mind, but really seeing only his sudden drooped + expression. "I'm feeling no pain. Honestly, I feel a little light-headed and foggy at + times, nothing more. And this is the job I came here to do. In fact ... well, it's + almost impossible to tell you just how fascinating it all is! It was almost worth + getting baked and parboiled for."</p> + + <p>She swung back to the microscope, centering the specimen with a turn of the stage + adjustment screw. "Poor Ihjel was right when he said this planet was exobiologically + fascinating. This is a gastropod, a lot like <i>Odostomia</i>, but it has parasitical + morphological changes so profound—"</p> + + <p>"There's something else I remember," Brion said, interrupting her enthusiastic + lecture, only half of which he could understand. "Didn't Ihjel also hope that you would + give some study to the natives as well as their environment. The problem is with the + Disans—not the local wild life."</p> + + <p>"But I am studying them," Lea insisted. "The Disans have attained an incredibly + advanced form of commensalism. Their lives are so intimately connected and integrated + with the other life forms that they must be studied in relation to their environment. I + doubt if they show as many external physical changes as little eating-foot + <i>Odostomia</i> on the slide here, but there will be surely a number of <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>psychological changes and + adjustments that will crop up. One of these might be the explanation of their urge for + planetary suicide."</p> + + <p>"That may be true—but I don't think so," Brion said. "I went on a little + expedition this morning and found something that has more immediate relevancy."</p> + + <p>For the first time Lea became aware of his slightly battered condition. Her + drug-grooved mind could only follow a single idea at a time and had overlooked the + significance of the bandage and dirt.</p> + + <p>"I've been visiting," Brion said, forestalling the question on her lips. "The magter + are the ones who are responsible for causing the trouble, and I had to see them up + close before I could make any decision. It wasn't a very pleasant thing, but I found + out what I wanted to know. They are different in every way from the normal Disans. I've + compared them. I've talked to Ulv—the native who saved us in the desert—and + I can understand him. He is not like us in many ways—he would certainly have to + be, living in this oven—but he is still undeniably human. He gave us drinking + water when we needed it, then brought help. The magter, the upper-class lords of Dis, + are the direct opposite. As cold-blooded and ruthless a bunch of murderers as you can + possibly imagine. They tried to kill me when they met me, without reason. Their + clothes, habits, dwellings, manners—everything about them differs from that of + the normal Disan. More important, the magter are as coldly efficient and inhuman as a + reptile. They have no emotions, no love, no hate, anger, fear—nothing. Each of + them is a chilling bundle of thought processes and reactions, with all the emotions + removed.<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits closing double-quote">"</ins></p> + + <p>"Aren't you exaggerating?" Lea asked. "After all, you can't be sure. It might just + be part of their training not to reveal any emotional state. Everyone must experience + emotional states whether they like it or not."</p> + + <p>"That's my main point. Everyone does—except the magter. I can't go into all + the details now, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Even at the point of death + they have no fear or hatred. It may sound impossible, but it is true."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Lea tried to shake the knots from her drug-hazed mind. "I'm dull today," she said, + "you'll have to excuse me. If these rulers had no emotional responses, that might + explain their present suicidal position. But an explanation like this raises more new + problems than it supplies answers to the old ones. How did they get this way? It + doesn't seem humanly possible to be without emotions."</p> + + <p>"Just my point. Not <i>humanly</i> possible. I think these ruling class Disans + aren't human at all, like the other Disans. I think they are alien + creatures—robots or androids—anything except men. I think they are living + in disguise among the normal human dwellers."</p> + + <p>First Lea started to smile, then she changed her mind when she saw his face. "You + are serious?" she asked.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Never more so. I realize it must sound as if I've had my brains bounced around too + much this morning. Yet this is the only idea I can come up with that fits all of the + facts. Look at the evidence yourself. One simple thing stands out clearly, and must be + considered first if any theory is to hold up. That is the magters' complete + indifference to death—their own or anyone else's. Is that normal to mankind?"</p> + + <p>"No—but I can find a couple of explanations that I would rather explore first, + before dragging in an alien life form. There may have been a mutation or an inherited + disease that had deformed or warped their minds."</p> + + <p>"Wouldn't that be sort of self-eliminating?" Brion asked. "Antisurvival? People who + die before puberty would find it a little difficult to pass on a mutation to their + children. But let's not beat this one point to death—it's the totality of these + people that I find so hard to accept. Any one thing might be explained away, but not + the collection of them. What about their complete lack of emotion? Or their manner of + dress and their secrecy in general? The ordinary Disan wears a cloth kilt, while the + magter cover themselves as completely as possible. They stay in their black towers and + never go out except in groups. Their dead are always removed so they can't be examined. + In every way they act like a race apart—and I think they are."</p> + + <p>"Granted for the moment that this outlandish idea might be true, how did they get + here? And why doesn't anyone know about it besides them?"</p> + + <p>"Easily enough explained," Brion insisted. "There are no written records on this + planet. After the breakdown, when the handful of survivors were just trying to exist + here, the aliens could have landed and moved in. Any interference could have been wiped + out. Once the population began to grow the invaders found they could keep control by + staying separate, so their alien difference wouldn't be noticed."</p> + + <p>"Why should that bother them?" Lea asked. "If they are so indifferent to death, they + can't have any strong thoughts on public opinion or alien body odor. Why would they + bother with such a complex camouflage? And if they arrived from another planet what has + happened to the scientific ability that brought them here?"</p> + + <p>"Peace," Brion said. "I don't know enough to even be able to guess at answers to + half those questions. I'm just trying to fit a theory to the facts. And the facts are + clear. The magter are so inhuman they would give me nightmares—if I were sleeping + these days. What we need is more evidence."</p> + + <p>"Then get it," Lea said with finality. "I'm not telling you to turn + murderer—but you might try a bit of grave-digging. Give me a scalpel and one of + your fiends stretched out on a slab and I'll quickly tell you what he is or is not." + She turned back to the microscope and bent over the eyepiece.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + + <p>That was really the only way to hack the Gordion knot. Dis had only thirty-six more + hours to live, so individual deaths shouldn't be of any concern. He had to find a dead + magter, and if none were obtainable in the proper condition he had to violently get one + of them that way. For a planetary savior he was personally doing in an awful lot of the + citizenry. He stood behind Lea, looking down at her thoughtfully while she worked. The + back of her neck was turned up to him, lightly covered with gently curling hair. With + one of the about-face shifts the mind is capable of his thoughts flipped from death to + life, and he experienced a strong desire to lightly caress this spot, to feel the + yielding texture of female flesh....</p> + + <p>Plunging his hands deep into his pockets he walked quickly to the door. "Get some + rest soon," he called to her. "I doubt if those bugs will give you the answer. I'm + going now to see if I can get the full-sized specimen you want."</p> + + <p>"The truth could be anywhere, I'll stay on these until you come back," she said, not + looking up from the microscope.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Up under the roof was a well-equipped communications room, Brion had taken a quick + look at it when he had first toured the building. The duty operator had earphones + on—though only one of the phones covered an ear—and was monitoring through + the bands. His shoeless feet were on the edge of the table and he was eating a thick + sandwich with his free hand. His eyes bugged when he saw Brion in the doorway and he + jumped into a flurry of action.</p> + + <p>"Hold the pose," Brion told him, "it doesn't bother me. And if you make any sudden + moves you are liable to break a phone, electrocute yourself or choke to death. Just see + if you can set the transceiver on this frequency for me." Brion wrote the number on a + scratchpad and slid it over to the operator. It was the frequency Professor-commander + Krafft had given him for the radio of the illegal terrorists—the Nyjord army.</p> + + <p>The operator plugged in a handset and gave it to Brion. "Circuit open," he mumbled + around a mouthful of still unswallowed sandwich.</p> + + <p>"This is Brandd, director of the C.R.F. Come in please." He went on repeating this + for more than ten minutes before he got an answer.</p> + + <p>"<i>What do you want?</i>"</p> + + <p>"I have a message of vital urgency for you—and I would also like your help. Do + you want any more information on the radio?"</p> + + <p>"<i>No. Wait there—we'll get in touch with you after dark.</i>" The carrier + wave went dead.</p> + + <p>Thirty-five hours to the end of the world—and all he could do was wait.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + + <p>On Brion's desk when he came in, were two neat piles of paper. As he sat down and + reached for them he was conscious of an arctic coldness in the air, a frigid blast. It + was coming from the air-conditioner grille <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id= + "Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>which was now covered by welded steel bars. The control + unit was sealed shut. Someone was either being very funny or very efficient. Either way + it was cold. Brion kicked at the cover plate until it buckled, then bent it aside. + After a careful look into the interior he disconnected one wire and shorted it to + another. He was rewarded by a number of sputtering cracks and a good quantity of smoke. + The compressor moaned and expired.</p> + + <p>Faussel was standing in the door with more papers and a shocked expression. "What do + you have there?" Brion asked. Faussel managed to straighten out his face and brought + the folders to the desk, arranging them on the piles already there.</p> + + <p>"These are the progress reports you asked for, from all units. Details to date, + conclusions, suggestions, et cetera."</p> + + <p>"And the other pile?" Brion pointed.</p> + + <p>"Offplanet correspondence, commissary invoices, requisitions," he straightened the + edges of the stack while he answered. "Daily report, hospital log—" His voice + died away and stopped as Brion carefully pushed the stack off the edge of the desk into + the wastebasket.</p> + + <p>"In other words, red tape," Brion said. "Well it's all filed."</p> + + <p>One by one the progress reports followed the first stack into the basket, until his + desk was clear. Nothing. It was just what he had expected. But there had always been + the off-chance that one of the specialists could come up with a new approach. They + hadn't, they were all too busy specializing.</p> + + <p>Outside the sky was darkening. The front entrance guard had been told to let in + anyone who came asking for the director. There was nothing else Brion could do until + the Nyjord rebels made contact. Irritation bit at him. At least Lea was doing something + constructive, he could look in on her.</p> + + <p>He opened the door to the lab with a feeling of pleasant anticipation. It froze and + shattered instantly. Her microscope was hooded and she was gone. <i>She's having + dinner</i>, he thought, <i>or—she's in the hospital</i>. The hospital was on the + floor below and he went there first.</p> + + <p>"Of course she's here!" Dr. Stine grumbled. "Where else should a girl in her + condition be? She was out of bed long enough today. Tomorrow's the last day, and if you + want to get any more work out of her before the deadline, you have better let her rest + tonight. Better let the whole staff rest. I've been handing out tranquilizers like + aspirin all day. They're falling apart."</p> + + <p>"The world's falling apart. How is Lea doing?"</p> + + <p>"Considering her shape she's fine. Go in and see for yourself if you won't take my + word for it. I have other patients to look at."</p> + + <p>"Are you that worried, doctor?"</p> + + <p>"Of course I am! I'm just as prone to the ills of the flesh as the rest of you. + We're sitting on a ticking bomb and I don't like it. I'll do my job as <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>long as it is necessary, + but I'll also be glad to see the ships land to pull us out. The only skin that I really + feel emotionally concerned about right now is my own. And if you want to be let in on a + public secret—the rest of your staff feels the same way. So don't look forward to + too much efficiency."</p> + + <p>"I never did," Brion said.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Lea's room was dark, illuminated only by the light of Dis' moon slanting in the + window. Brion let himself in and closed the door behind him. Walking quietly he went + over to the bed. She was sleeping soundly, her breathing gentle and regular. A night's + sleep now would do as much good as all the medication.</p> + + <p>He should have gone then, instead he sat down in the chair placed next to the head + of the bed. The guards knew where he was, he could wait here just as well as any place + else.</p> + + <p>It was a stolen moment of peace on a world at the brink of destruction. He was + grateful for it. Everything looked less harsh in the moonlight and he rubbed some of + the tension from his eyes. Lea's face was ironed smooth by the light, beautiful and + young; a direct contrast to everything else on this poisonous world. Her hand was + outside of the covers and he took it in his own, obeying a sudden impulse. Looking out + of the window at the desert in the distance, he let the peace wash over him, forcing + himself to forget for the moment that in one more day life would be stripped from this + planet.</p> + + <p>Later, when he looked back at Lea he saw that her eyes were open, though she hadn't + moved. How long had she been awake? He jerked his hand away from hers, feeling suddenly + guilty.</p> + + <p>"Is the boss-man looking after the serfs, to see if they're fit for the treadmill in + the morning?" she asked. It was the kind of remark she had used with such frequency in + the ship, though it didn't sound quite as harsh now. And she was smiling. Yet it + reminded him too well of her superior attitude towards the rubes from the stellar + sticks. Here he might be the director, but on ancient Earth he would be only one more + gaping yokel.</p> + + <p>"How do you feel?" he asked, realizing and hating the triteness of the words, even + as he said them.</p> + + <p>"Terrible. I'll be dead by morning. Reach me a piece of fruit from that bowl, will + you? My mouth tastes like an old boot heel. Wonder how fresh fruit ever got here? + Probably a gift to the working classes from the smiling planetary murderers on Nyjord," + she took the apple Brion gave her and bit into it. "Did you ever think of going to + Earth?"</p> + + <p>Brion was startled, this was too close to his own thoughts about planetary + backgrounds. There couldn't possibly be a connection though. "Never," he told her. "Up + until a few months ago I never even considered leaving Anvhar. The Twenties are such a + big thing at home that it is hard to imagine that anything else exists while you are + still taking part in them."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Spare me the Twenties," she pleaded. "After listening to you and Ihjel I know far + more about them than I shall ever care to know. But what about Anvhar itself? Do you + have big city-states like Earth?"</p> + + <p>"Nothing like that. For its size it has a very small population. No big cities at + all. I guess the largest centers of population are around the schools, packing plants, + things like that."</p> + + <p>"Any exobiologists there?" Lea asked, with a woman's eternal ability to make any + general topic personal.</p> + + <p>"At the universities, I suppose, though I wouldn't know for sure. And you must + realize that when I say no big cities, I also mean no little cities. We aren't + organized that way at all. I imagine the basic physical unit is family and the circle + of friends. Friends get important quickly since the family breaks up when children are + still relatively young. Something in the genes I suppose, we all enjoy being alone. + Suppose you might call it an inbred survival trait."</p> + + <p>"Up to a point," she said, biting delicately into the apple. "Carry that sort of + thing too far and you end up with no population at all. A certain amount of proximity + is necessary for that."</p> + + <p>"Of course there is. And there must be some form of recognized relationship or + control—that or complete promiscuity. On Anvhar the emphasis is on personal + responsibility, and that seems to take care of the problem. If we didn't have an adult + way of looking at ... things, our kind of life would be impossible. Individuals are + brought together either by accident or design, and with this proximity must be some + certainty of relations—"</p> + + <p>"You're losing me," Lea protested. "Either I'm still foggy from the dope or you are + suddenly unable to speak a word of less than four syllables in length. You + know—whenever this happens with you I get the distinct impression that you are + trying to cover up something. For Occam's sake be specific! Bring together two of these + hypothetical individuals and tell me what happens."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion took a deep breath. He was in over his head and far from shore. + "Well—take a bachelor like myself. Since I like cross-country skiing I make my + home in this big house our family has, right at the edge of the Broken Hills. In summer + I looked after a drumtum herd, but after slaughtering my time was my own all winter. I + did a lot of skiing, and used to work for the Twenties. Sometimes I would go visiting. + Then again, people would drop in on me—houses are few and far between on Anvhar. + We don't even have locks on our front doors. You accept and give hospitality without + qualification. Whoever comes. Male—female—in groups or just traveling + alone—"</p> + + <p>"I get the drift. Life must be dull for a single girl on your iceberg planet, she + must surely have to stay home a lot."</p> + + <p>"Only if she wants to. Otherwise she can go wherever she wishes and <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>be welcomed as another + individual. I suppose it is out of fashion in the rest of the galaxy—and would + probably raise a big laugh on Earth—but a platonic, disinterested friendship + between man and woman is an accepted thing on Anvhar."</p> + + <p>"Sounds exceedingly dull. If you are all such cool and distant friends, what keeps + your birthrate going?"</p> + + <p>Brion felt his ears flushing, not quite sure if he was being teased or not. "There + are plenty of happy marriages. But it is up to the woman always to indicate if she is + interested in a man. A girl who isn't interested won't get any proposals. I imagine + this is a lot different from other planets—but so is our world. The system works + well enough for us."</p> + + <p>"Just about the opposite of Earth," Lea told him, dropping the apple core into a + dish and carefully licking the tips of her fingers. "I guess you Anvharians would + describe Earth as a planetary hotbed of sin. The reverse of your system, and going full + blast all the time. There are far too many people there for comfort. Birth control came + late and is still being fought—if you can possibly imagine that. There are just + too many crack-brained ideas that have been long entrenched in custom. The world's + overcrowded. Men, women, children, a boiling mob wherever you look. And all of the + physically mature ones seem to be involved in the Great Game of Love. The male is + always the aggressor, and women take the most outrageous kinds of flattery for granted. + At parties these are always a couple of hot breaths of passion fanning your neck. A + girl has to keep her spike heels filed sharp."</p> + + <p>"She has to <i>what</i>—?"</p> + + <p>"A figure of speech, Brion. Meaning you fight back all the time, if you don't want + to be washed under by the flood."</p> + + <p>"Sounds rather"—Brion weighed the word before he said it, but could find none + other suitable—"repellent."</p> + + <p>"From your point of view, it would be. I'm afraid we get so used to it that we even + take it for granted. Sociologically speaking—" She stopped and looked at Brion's + straight back and almost rigid posture. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in an + unspoken <i>oh</i> of sudden realization.</p> + + <p>"I'm being a fool," she said. "You weren't speaking generally at all! You had a very + specific subject in mind. Namely <i>me</i>!"</p> + + <p>"Please, Lea, you must understand—"</p> + + <p>"But I do!" she laughed. "All the time I thought you were being a frigid and + hard-hearted lump of ice, you were really being very sweet. Just playing the game in + good old Anvharian style. Waiting for a sign from me. We'd still be playing by + different rules if you hadn't had more sense than I, and finally realized that + somewhere along the line we must have got our signals mixed. And I thought you were + some kind of frosty offworld celibate." She let her hand go out and her fingers rustled + through his hair. Something she had been wanting to do for a long time.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + + <p>"I had to," he said, trying to ignore the light touch of her fingers. "Because I + thought so much of you, I couldn't have done anything to insult you. Until I began to + worry where the insult would lie, since I knew nothing about your planet's mores."</p> + + <p>"Well you know now," she said very softly. "The men aggress. Now that I understand, + I think I like your way better. But I'm still not sure of all the rules. Do I explain + that yes, Brion, I like you so very much? You are more man, in one great big wide + shouldered lump, than I have ever met before—"</p> + + <p>His arms were around her, holding her to him, and their lips sought each other's in + the darkness.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + + <p>"He wouldn't come in, sir. Just hammered on the door and said, <i>I'm here, tell + Brandd</i>."</p> + + <p>"Good enough," Brion said, seating his gun in the holster and sliding the extra + clips into his pocket. "I'm going out now, and I should return before dawn. Get one of + the wheeled stretchers down here from the hospital. I'll want it waiting when I get + back."</p> + + <p>Outside the street was darker than he remembered. Brion frowned and his hand moved + towards his gun. Someone had put all the nearby lights out of commission. There was + just enough illumination from the stars to enable him to make out the dark bulk of a + sandcar.</p> + + <p>The motor roared as soon as he had closed the door. Without lights the sandcar + churned a path through the city and out into the desert. Though the speed picked up, + the driver still drove in the dark, feeling his way with a light touch on the controls. + The ground rose, and when they reached the top of a flat mesa he killed the engine. + Neither the driver nor Brion had spoken a word since they left.</p> + + <p>A switch snapped and the instrument lights came on. In their dim glow Brion could + just make out the other man's hawklike profile. When he moved Brion saw that his figure + was cruelly shortened. Either accident or a mutated gene had warped his spine, hunching + him forward in eternally bent supplication. Warped bodies are rare—his was the + first Brion had ever seen. He wondered what series of events had kept him from medical + attention all his life. This might explain the bitterness and pain in the man's + voice.</p> + + <p>"Did the mighty brains on Nyjord bother to tell you that they have chopped another + day off the deadline? That this world is about to come to an end?"</p> + + <p>"Yes, I know," Brion said. "That's why I'm asking your group for help. Our time is + running out too fast."</p> + + <p>The man didn't answer, merely grunted and gave his full attention to the radar pings + and glowing screen. The electronic senses reached out as he made a check on all the + search frequencies to see if they were being followed.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Where are we going?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"Out into the desert," the driver made a vague wave of his hand. "Headquarters of + the army. Since the whole thing will be blown up in another day, I guess I can tell you + it's the only camp we have. All the cars, men and weapons are based there. And Hys. + He's the man in charge. Tomorrow it will be all gone—along with this cursed + planet. What's your business with us?"</p> + + <p>"Shouldn't I be telling Hys that?"</p> + + <p>"Suit yourself." Satisfied with the instrument search the driver kicked the car to + life again and churned on across the desert. "But we're a volunteer army and we have no + secrets from each other. Just from the fools at home who are going to kill this world." + There was a bitterness in his words that he made no attempt to conceal. "They fought + among themselves and put off a firm decision so long that now they are forced to commit + murder."</p> + + <p>"From what I had heard, I thought that it was the other way around. They call your + Nyjord Army terrorists."</p> + + <p>"We are. Because we are an army and we're at war. The idealists at home only + understood that when it was too late. If they had backed us in the beginning, we would + have blown open every black castle on Dis—searched until we found those bombs. + But that would have meant wanton destruction and death. They wouldn't consider that. + Now they are going to kill everyone, destroy everything." He flicked on the panel + lights just long enough to take a compass bearing, and Brion saw the tortured + unhappiness in his twisted body.</p> + + <p>"It's not over yet," Brion said. "There is more than a day left, and I think I'm + onto something that might stop the war—without any bombs being dropped."</p> + + <p>"You're in charge of the Cultural Relationships Free Bread and Blankets Foundation, + aren't you? What good can your bunch do when the shooting starts?"</p> + + <p>"None. But maybe we can put off the shooting. If you are trying to insult + me—don't bother. My irritation quotient is very high."</p> + + <p>The driver just grunted at this, slowing down as they ran through a field of broken + rock. "What is it you want?" he asked.</p> + + <p>"We want to make a detailed examination of one of the magter. Alive or dead, it + doesn't make any difference. You wouldn't happen to have one around?"</p> + + <p>"No. We've fought with them often enough, but always on their home grounds. They + keep all their casualties, and a good number of ours. What good will it do you anyway? + A dead one won't tell you where the bombs or the jump-space projector is."</p> + + <p>"I don't see why I should explain that to you—unless you are in charge. You + are Hys, aren't you?"</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>The driver grunted angrily and was silent while he drove. Finally he asked, "What + makes you think that?"</p> + + <p>"Call it a hunch. You don't act very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id= + "Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>much like a sandcar driver for one thing. Of course your + army may be all generals and no privates—but I doubt it. I also know that time + has almost run out for all of us. This is a long ride and it would be a complete waste + of time if you just sat out in the desert and waited for me. By driving me yourself you + could make your mind up before we arrived. Have a decision ready whether you are going + to help me or not. Are you?"</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"><img src="images/image12.jpg" width="418" + height="600" alt="" /></div> + + <p>"Yes—I'm Hys. But you still haven't answered my question. What do you want the + body for?"</p> + + <p>"We're going to cut it open and take a good long look. I don't think the magter are + human. They are something living among men and disguised as men—but still not + human."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Secret aliens?" Hys exploded the words in a mixture of surprise and disgust.</p> + + <p>"Perhaps. The examination will tell us that."</p> + + <p>"You're either stupid or incompetent," Hys said bitterly. "The heat of Dis has + cooked your brains in your head. I'll be no part of this kind of absurd plan."</p> + + <p>"You must," Brion said, surprised at his own calmness. He could sense the other + man's interest hidden behind his insulting manner. "I don't even have to give you my + reasons. In another day this world ends and you have no way to stop it. I just might + have an idea that could work and you can't afford to take any chances—not if you + are really sincere. Either you are a murderer, killing Disans for pleasure, or you + honestly want to stop the war. Which is it?"</p> + + <p>"You'll have your body all right," Hys grated, hurling the car viciously around a + spire of rock. "Not that it will accomplish anything—but I can find no fault in + killing another magter. We can fit your operation into our plans without any trouble. + This is the last night and I have sent every one of my teams out on raids. We're + breaking into as many magter towers as possible before dawn. There is a slim chance + that we might uncover something. It's really just shooting in the dark, but it's all we + can do now. My own team is waiting and you can ride along with us. The others left + earlier. We're going to hit a small tower on this side of the city. We raided it once + before and captured a lot of small arms that they had stored there. There is a good + chance that they may have been stupid enough to store something there again. Sometimes + the magter seem to suffer from a complete lack of imagination."</p> + + <p>"You have no idea just how right you are," Brion told him.</p> + + <p>The sandcar slowed down now, as they approached a slab-sided mesa that rose + vertically from the desert. They crunched across broken rocks, leaving no tracks. A + light blinked on the dashboard and Hys stopped instantly and killed the engine. They + climbed out, stretching and shivering in the cold desert night.</p> + + <p>It was dark walking in the shadow of the cliff and they had to feel their way along + a path through the tumbled boulders. A sudden blaze of light made Brion wince and + shield his eyes. Near him, on the ground, was the humming shape of a cancellation + projector, sending out a fan-shaped curtain of vibration that absorbed all the light + rays falling upon it. This incredible blackness made a lightproof wall for the recessed + hollow at the foot of the cliff. In this shelter, under the overhang of rock, were + three open sandcars. They were large and armor-plated, warlike in their scarred gray + paint. Men sprawled, talked and polished their weapons. Everything stopped when Hys and + Brion appeared.</p> + + <p>"Load up," Hys called out. "We're going to attack now, same plan I outlined earlier. + Get Telt over here." Talking to his own men some of the <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>harshness was gone from his voice. The tall + soldiers of Nyjord moved in ready obedience to the commander. They loomed over his bent + figure, most of them twice as tall as him. Yet there was no hesitation in jumping when + he commanded. They were the body of the Nyjord striking force—he was the + brains.</p> + + <p>A square-cut, compact man rolled up to Hys and saluted with a leisurely flick of his + hand. He was weighted and slung about with packs and electronic instruments. His + pockets bulged with small tools.</p> + + <p>"This is Telt," Hys said to Brion, "he'll take care of you. Telt's my personal + technical squad. Goes along on all my operations with his meters to test the interiors + of the Disan forts. So far he's found no trace of a jump-space generator, or excess + radioactivity that might indicate a bomb. Since he's useless and you're useless, you + can both take care of each other. Use the car we came in."</p> + + <p>Telt's wide face split in a frog-like grin, his voice was hoarse and throaty. "Wait! + Just wait! Some day those needles gonna flicker and all our troubles be over. What you + want me to do with the stranger?"</p> + + <p>"Supply him with a corpse—one of the magter," Hys said. "Take it where he + wants and then report back here." Hys scowled at Telt. "Some day your needles will + flicker! Poor fool—this is the last day." He turned away and waved the men into + their sandcars.</p> + + <p>"He likes me," Telt said, attaching a final piece of equipment. "You can tell + because he calls me names like that. He's a great man, Hys is, but they never found out + until it was too late. Hand me that meter, will you?"</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion followed the technician out to the car and helped him load his equipment + aboard. When the larger cars appeared out of the darkness, Telt swung around after + them. They snaked forward in a single line through the rocks, until they came to the + desert of rolling sand dunes. Then they spread out in line abreast and rushed towards + their goal.</p> + + <p>Telt hummed to himself hoarsely as he drove. He broke off suddenly and looked at + Brion. "What you want the dead Dis for?"</p> + + <p>"A theory," Brion answered sluggishly. He had been half napping in the chair, taking + the opportunity for some rest before the attack. "I'm still looking for a way to avert + the end."</p> + + <p>"You and Hys," Telt said with satisfaction. "Couple of idealists. Trying to stop a + war you didn't start. They never would listen to Hys. He told them in the beginning + exactly what would happen, and he was right. They always thought his ideas were + crooked, like him. Growing up alone in the hill camp, with his back too twisted and too + old to be fixed when he finally did come out. Ideas twisted the same way. Made himself + an authority on war. Hah! War on Nyjord. That's like being an icecube specialist in + hell. But he knew all about it, but they never would let him use what he knew. Put + granddaddy Krafft in charge instead."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + + <p>"But Hys is in charge of an army now?"</p> + + <p>"All volunteers, too few of them and too little money. Too little and too damned + late to do any good. I'll never be good enough. And for this we get called butchers." + There was a catch in Telt's voice now, an undercurrent of emotion he couldn't suppress. + "At home they think we like to kill. Think we're insane. They can't understand we're + doing the only thing that has to be done—" He broke off as he quickly locked on + the brakes and killed the engine. The line of sandcars had come to a stop. Ahead, just + visible over the dunes, was the summit of a dark tower.</p> + + <p>"We walk from here," Telt said, standing and stretching. "We can take our time + because the other boys go in first, soften things up. Then you and I head for the + sub-cellar for a radiation check and find you a handsome corpse."</p> + + <p>Walking at first, then crawling when the dunes no longer shielded them, they crept + up on the Disan keep. Dark figures moved ahead of them, stopping only when they reached + the crumbling black walls. They didn't use the ascending ramp, but made their way up + the sheer outside face of the ramparts.</p> + + <p>"Linethrowers," Telt whispered. "Anchor themselves when the missile hits, have some + kind of quicksetting goo. Then we go up the filament with a line-climbing motor. Hys + invented them."</p> + + <p>"Is that the way you and I are going in?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"No, we get out of the climbing. I told you we hit this rock once before. I know the + layout inside." He was moving while he talked, carefully pacing the distance around the + base of the tower. "Should be right about here."</p> + + <p>High-pitched keening sliced the air and the top of the magter building burst into + flame. Automatic weapons hammered above them. Something fell silently through the night + and hit heavily on the ground near them.</p> + + <p>"Attack's started," Telt shouted. "We have to get through now, while all the + creepies are fighting it out on top." He pulled a plate-shaped object from one of his + bags and slapped it hard against the wall. It hung there. He twisted the back of it, + pulled something and waved Brion to the ground. "Shaped charge. Should blow straight + in, but you never can tell."</p> + + <p>The ground jumped under them and the ringing thud was a giant fist punching through + the wall. A cloud of dust and smoke rolled clear and they could see the dark opening in + the rock, a tunnel driven into the <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'well'">wall</ins> by the directional force of the + explosion. Telt shone a light through the hole at the crumbled chamber inside.</p> + + <p>"Nothing to worry about from anybody who was leaning against this wall. But let's + get in and out of this black beehive before the ones upstairs come down to + investigate."</p> + + <p>Shattered rock was thick on the floor, and they skidded and tumbled over it. Telt + pointed the way with his light, down a sharply angled <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>ramp. "Underground chambers in the rock. + They always store their stuff down there—"</p> + + <p>A smoking, black sphere arced out of the tunnel's mouth, hitting at their feet. Telt + just gaped, but even as it hit the floor Brion was jumping forward. He caught it with + the side of his foot, kicking it back into the dark opening of the tunnel. Telt hit the + ground next to him as the orange flame of an explosion burst below. Bits of shrapnel + rattled from the ceiling and wall behind them.</p> + + <p>"Grenades!" Telt gasped. "They only used them once before—can't have many. + Gotta warn Hys." He plugged a throat mike into the transmitter on his back and spoke + quickly into it. There was a stirring below and Brion poured a rain of fire into the + tunnel.</p> + + <p>"They're catching it bad on top, too! We gotta pull out. Go first and I'll cover + you."</p> + + <p>"I came for my Disan—I'm not leaving until I get one."</p> + + <p>"You're crazy! You're dead if you stay!"</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Telt was scrambling back towards their crumbled entrance as he talked. His back was + turned when Brion fired. The magter appeared silently as the shadow of death. They + charged without a sound, running with expressionless faces into the bullets. Two died + at once, curling and folding, the third one fell at Brion's feet. Shot, pierced, dying, + but not yet dead. Leaving a crimson track it hunched closer, lifting its knife to + Brion. He didn't move. How many times must you murder a man? Or was it a man. His mind + and body rebelled against the killing and was almost ready to accept death himself, + rather than kill again.</p> + + <p>Telt's bullets tore through the body and it dropped with grim finality.</p> + + <p>"There's your corpse—now get it out of here!" Telt screeched.</p> + + <p>Between them they worked the sodden weight of the dead magter through the hole, + their exposed backs crawling with the expectation of instant death. There were no more + attacks as they ran from the tower, other than a grenade that exploded too far behind + them to do any harm.</p> + + <p>One of the armored sandcars circled the keep, headlights blazing, keeping up a + steady fire from its heavy weapons. The attackers climbed into it as they beat a + retreat. Telt and Brion dragged the Disan behind them, struggling through the loose + sand toward the circling car. Telt glanced over his shoulder and broke into a shambling + run.</p> + + <p>"They're following us—!" he gasped. "The first time they ever chased us after + a raid!"</p> + + <p>"They must know we have the body," Brion said.</p> + + <p>"Leave it behind—!" Telt choked. "Too heavy to carry ... anyway!"</p> + + <p>"I'd rather leave you," Brion snapped. "Let me have it." He pulled the corpse away + from the unresisting Telt and heaved it across his shoulders. "Now use your gun to + cover us!"</p> + + <p>Telt threw a rain of slugs back towards <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id= + "Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>the dark figures following them. The driver must have + seen the flare of their fire, because the truck turned and started towards them. It + braked in a choking cloud of dust and ready hands reached to pull them up. Brion pushed + the body in ahead of himself and scrambled after it. The truck engine throbbed and they + churned away into the blackness, away from the gutted tower.</p> + + <p>"You know, that was more like kind of a joke, when I said I'd leave the corpse + behind," Telt told Brion. "You didn't believe me, did you?"</p> + + <p>"Yes," Brion said, holding the dead weight of the magter against the truck's side. + "I thought you meant it."</p> + + <p>"Ahhh—" Telt grumbled. "You're as bad as Hys. Take things too seriously."</p> + + <p>Brion suddenly realized that he was wet with blood, his clothing sodden. His stomach + rose at the thought and he clutched the edge of the sandcar. Killing like this was too + personal. Talking abstractedly about a body was one thing. But murdering a man, then + lifting his dead flesh and feeling his blood warm upon you is an entirely different + matter. Yet the magter weren't human, he knew that. The thought was only mildly + comforting.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>After they had reached the rest of the waiting sandcars, the raiding party split up. + "Each one goes in a different direction," Telt said, "so they can't track us to the + base." He clipped a piece of paper next to the compass and kicked the motor into life. + "We'll make a big <i>U</i> in the desert and end up in Hovedstad, I got the course + here. Then I'll dump you and your friend and beat it back to our camp. You're not still + burned at me for what I said, are you? Are you?"</p> + + <p>Brion didn't answer. He was staring fixedly out of the side window. "What's doing?" + Telt asked. Brion pointed out at the rushing darkness.</p> + + <p>"Over there," he said, pointing to the growing light on the horizon.</p> + + <p>"Dawn," Telt said. "Lotta rain on your planet? Didn't you ever see the sun come up + before?"</p> + + <p>"Not on the last day of a world."</p> + + <p>"Lock it up," Telt grumbled. "You give me the crawls. I know they're going to be + blasted. But at least I know I did everything I could to stop it. How do you think they + are going to be feeling at home—on Nyjord—from tomorrow on?"</p> + + <p>"Maybe we can still stop it?" Brion said, shrugging off the feeling of gloom, Telt's + only answer was a wordless sound of disgust.</p> + + <p>By the time they had cut a large loop in the desert the sun was high in the sky, the + daily heat begun. Their course took them through a chain of low, flinty hills that cut + their speed almost to zero. They ground ahead in low gear while Telt sweated and + cursed, struggling with the controls. Then they were on firm sand and picking up speed + towards the city.</p> + + <p>As soon as Brion saw Hovedstad clearly he felt a clutch of fear. From somewhere in + the city a black plume of smoke was rising. It could have been one of the deserted + buildings aflame, a minor blaze. Yet the closer <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>they came, the greater the tension grew. + Brion didn't dare put it into words himself, it was Telt who vocalized the thought.</p> + + <p>"A fire or something. Coming from your area, somewhere close to your building."</p> + + <p>Within the city they saw the first signs of destruction. Broken rubble on the + streets. The smell of greasy smoke in their nostrils. More and more people appeared, + going in the same direction they were. The normally deserted streets of Hovedstad were + now almost crowded. Disans, obvious by their bare shoulders, mixed with the few + offworlders who still remained.</p> + + <p>Brion made sure the tarpaulin was well wrapped around the body before they pushed + slowly through the growing crowd.</p> + + <p>"I don't like all this publicity," Telt complained, looking at the people. "It's the + last day, or I'd be turning back. They know our cars, we've raided them often enough." + Turning a corner he braked suddenly.</p> + + <p>Ahead was destruction. Black, broken rubble had been churned into desolation. It was + still smoking, pink tongues of flame licking over the ruins. A fragment of wall fell + with a rumbling crash.</p> + + <p>"It's your building—the Foundation building!" Telt shouted. "They've been here + ahead of us, must have used the radio to call a raid. They did a job, explosive of some + kind."</p> + + <p>Hope was dead. Dis was dead. In the ruin ahead, mixed and broken with the other + rubble, were the bodies of all the people who had trusted him. Lea. Beautiful and + cruelly dead Lea. Dr. Stine, his patients, Faussel, all of them. He had kept them on + this planet and now they were dead. Every one of them. Dead.</p> + + <p>Murderer!</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123a" id="Page_123a">[Part III]<br /> + [Pg 123]</a></span></p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> + <img src="images/image13.jpg" width="600" height="564" alt="" /> <span class= + "caption">Illustrated by van Dongen</span> + </div> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124a" id="Page_124a">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + + <p>Life was ended. Brion's mind contained nothing but despair and the pain of + irretrievable loss. If his brain had been complete master of his body he would have + died there, for at that moment there was no will to live. Unaware of this his heart + continued to beat and the regular motion of his lungs drew in the dreadful sweetness of + the smoke-tainted air. With automatic directness his body lived on.</p> + + <p>"What you gonna do?" Telt asked, even his natural exuberation stilled by this. Brion + only shook his head as the words penetrated. What could he do? What could possibly be + done?</p> + + <p>"Follow me," a voice said in guttural Disan through the opening of a rear window. + The speaker was lost in the crowd before they could turn. Aware now, Brion saw a native + move away from the edge of the crowd and turn in their direction. It was Ulv.</p> + + <p>"Turn the car—that way!" He punched Telt's arm and pointed. "Do it slowly and + don't draw any attention to us." There was sudden hope, which he kept himself from + considering. The building was gone and the people in it all dead. That fact had to be + faced.</p> + + <p>"What's going on?" Telt asked. "Who was that talked in the window?"</p> + + <p>"A native—that one up ahead. He saved my life in the desert, and I think he is + on our side. Even though he's a native Disan, he can understand facts that the magter + can't. He knows what will happen to this planet." Brion was talking, filling his brain + with words so he wouldn't begin to have hope.</p> + + <p>Ulv moved slowly and naturally through the streets, never looking back. They + followed, as far behind as they dared, yet still keeping him in sight. There were fewer + people about here among the deserted offworld storehouses. Ulv vanished into one, LIGHT + METALS TRUST LTD. the sign read above the door. Telt slowed the car.</p> + + <p>"Don't stop here," Brion said. "Drive on around the corner, and pull up."</p> + + <p>Brion climbed out of the car with an ease he did not feel. There was no one in sight + now, in either direction. Walking slowly back to the corner he checked the street they + had just left—hot, silent and empty!</p> + + <p>A sudden blackness appeared where the door of the warehouse had been, and the sudden + flickering motion of a hand. Brion signaled Telt to start, and jumped into the already + moving sandcar.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125a" id="Page_125a">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Into that open door—quickly before anyone sees us!" The car rumbled down a + ramp into the dark interior and the door slid shut behind them.</p> + + <p>"Ulv. What is it? Where are you?" Brion called, blinking in the murky interior. A + gray form appeared next to him.</p> + + <p>"I am here."</p> + + <p>"Did you—" There was no way to finish the sentence.</p> + + <p>"I heard of the raid. The magter called together all of us they could to help them + carry explosives. I went along. I could not stop them and there was no time to warn + anyone in the building."</p> + + <p>"Then they are all dead—?"</p> + + <p>"Yes," Ulv nodded, "all except one. I knew I could possibly save one, and I was not + sure who. So I took the woman you were with in the desert, she is here now. She was + hurt, but not badly, when I brought her out."</p> + + <p>Guilty relief flooded through Brion. He shouldn't exult, not with the death of + everyone in the Foundation still fresh in his mind. But at that instant he was + happy.</p> + + <p>"May I see her?" he asked Ulv. He was seized by the sudden fear that there might be + a mistake. Perhaps Ulv had saved a different girl.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Ulv led the way across the empty loading bay. Brion followed closely, fighting down + the temptation to tell him to hurry. When he saw that Ulv was heading towards an office + in the far wall, he could control himself no longer and ran on ahead.</p> + + <p>It was Lea, lying unconscious on a couch. Sweat beaded her face and she moaned and + stirred without opening her eyes.</p> + + <p>"I gave her <i>sover</i>, then wrapped her in cloth so no one would know," Ulv + said.</p> + + <p>Telt was close behind them looking in through the open door.</p> + + <p>"<i>Sover</i> is a drug they take from one of their plants," he said. "We got a lot + of experience with it. A little makes a good knock-out drug, but it's deadly poison in + large doses. I got the antidote in the car, wait and I'll get it." He went out.</p> + + <p>Brion sat next to Lea and wiped her face clean of dirt and perspiration. The dark + shadows under her eyes were almost black now and her elfin face even thinner. Yet she + was alive, that was the important thing. Some of the tension drained away and he could + think again. There was still the job to do. After this last experience she should be in + a hospital bed. Yet this was impossible. He had to drag her to her feet and put her + back to work. The answer might still be found. Each second ticked away another fraction + of the planet's life.</p> + + <p>"Good as new in a minute," Telt said, banging down the heavy medbox. He watched + intently as Ulv left the room. "Hys should know about this renegade. Might be useful as + a spy or for information. Of course it's too late now to do anything, so the hell with + it." He pulled a pistol-shaped hypodermic gun from the box and dialed a number on the + side. "Now, if you'll roll her sleeve up I'll bring <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_126a" id="Page_126a">[Pg 126]</a></span>her back to life." He pressed the + bell-shaped sterilizing muzzle against her skin and pulled the trigger. The hypo gun + hummed briefly, ending its cycle with a large click.</p> + + <p>"Does it work fast?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"Couple of minutes. Just let her be and she'll come to by herself."</p> + + <p>"Killer!" Ulv hissed from the doorway. His blowgun was in his hand, half raised to + his mouth.</p> + + <p>"He's been in the car—he's seen it!" Telt shouted and grabbed for his gun.</p> + + <p>Brion sprang between them, raising his hands. "Stop it! No more killing!" he shouted + this in Disan. Then he shook his fist at Telt. <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits opening double-quotes">"</ins>Fire that gun and + I'll stuff it down your throat. I'll handle this." He turned to face Ulv who hadn't + raised the blowgun any closer to his lips. This was a good sign. The Disan was still + uncertain.</p> + + <p>"You have seen the body in the car, Ulv. So you must have seen that it is that of a + magter. I killed him myself, because I would rather kill one, ten or even a hundred men + rather than have everyone on this planet destroyed. I killed him in a fair fight and + now I am going to examine his body. There is something very strange and different about + the magter, you know that yourself. If I can find out what it is, perhaps we can make + them stop this war, and not bomb Nyjord."</p> + + <p>Ulv was still angry, yet he lowered the blowgun a little. "I wish there were no + offworlders, that none of you had ever come. Nothing was wrong until you started + coming. The magter were the strongest, and they killed, but they also helped. Now they + want to fight a war with your weapons and for this you are going to kill my world. And + you want me to help you?"</p> + + <p>"Not me—yourself!" Brion said wearily. "There's no going back, that's the one + thing we can't do. Maybe Dis would have been better off without offplanet contact. + Maybe not. In any case you have to forget about that. You have contact now with the + rest of the galaxy, for better or for worse. You've got a problem to solve, and I'm + here to help you solve it."</p> + + <p>Seconds ticked by as Ulv, unmoving, fought with questions that were novel to his + life. Could killing stop death? Could he help his people by helping strangers to fight + and kill them? His world had changed and he didn't like it. He must make a giant effort + to change with it.</p> + + <p>Abruptly, he pushed the blowgun into a thong at his waist, turned and strode + out.</p> + + <p>"Too much for my nerves," Telt said, settling his gun back in the holster. "You + don't know how happy I'm gonna be when this thing is over. Even if the planet goes + bang, I don't care. I'm finished." He walked out to the sandcar, keeping a careful eye + on the Disan crouched against the wall.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion turned back to Lea whose eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. He went to + her.</p> + + <p>"Running," she said, and her voice had a toneless emptiness that screamed louder + than any emotion. "They ran by the open door of my room and I could see them when they + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127a" id="Page_127a">[Pg 127]</a></span>killed Dr. + Stine. Just butchered him like an animal, chopping him down. Then one came into the + room and that's all I remember." She turned her head slowly and looked at Brion. "What + happened? Why am I here?"</p> + + <p>"They're ... dead," he told her. "All of them. After the raid the Disans blew up the + building. You're the only one that survived. That was Ulv who came into your room, the + Disan we met in the desert. He brought you away and hid you here in the city."</p> + + <p>"When do we leave?" she said, in the same empty tones, turning her face to the wall. + "When do we get off this planet?"</p> + + <p>"Today is the last day. The deadline is midnight. Krafft will have a ship pick us up + when we are ready. But we still have our job to do. I've got that body. You're going to + have to examine it. We must find out about the magter—"</p> + + <p>"Nothing can be done now except leave," her voice was a dull monotone. "There is + only so much that a person can do and I've done it. Please have the ship come, I want + to leave now."</p> + + <p>Brion chewed his lip in helpless frustration. Nothing seemed to be able to penetrate + the apathy she had sunk into. Too much shock, too much terror, in too short a time. He + took her chin in his hand and turned her head to face him. She didn't resist, but her + eyes were shining with tears, tears trickled down her cheeks.</p> + + <p>"Take me home, Brion, please take me home."</p> + + <p>He could only brush her sodden hair back from her face then and force himself to + smile at her. The particles of time were running out, faster and faster, and he no + longer knew what to do. The examination had to be made. Yet he couldn't force her. He + looked for the medbox and saw that Telt had taken it back to the sandcar. There might + be something in it that could help. A tranquilizer perhaps.</p> + + <p>Telt had some of his instruments open on the chart table and was examining a tape + with a pocket magnifier. He jumped nervously and put the tape behind his back when + Brion entered, then relaxed when he saw who it was.</p> + + <p>"Thought you were the creepie out there, coming for a look," he whispered. "Maybe + you trust him—but I can't afford to. Can't even use the radio. I'm getting out of + here now, I have to tell Hys!"</p> + + <p>"Tell him what?" Brion asked sharply. "What is all the mystery about?"</p> + + <p>Telt handed him the magnifier and tape. "Look at that. Recording tape from my + scintillation counter. Red verticals are five-minute intervals, the wiggly black + horizontal line is the radioactivity level. All this where the line goes up and down, + that's when we were driving out to the attack. Varying hot level of the rock and + ground."</p> + + <p>"What's the big peak in the middle?"</p> + + <p>"That coincides exactly with our visit to the house of horrors! When <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_128a" id="Page_128a">[Pg 128]</a></span>we went through the + hole in the bottom of the tower!" He couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.</p> + + <p>"Does it mean that—"</p> + + <p>"I don't know. I'm not sure. I have to compare it with the other tapes back at base. + It could be the stone of the tower, some of these heavy rocks got a high natural count. + There maybe could be a box of instruments there with fluorescent dials. Or it might be + one of those tactical atom bombs they threw at us already, some arms runner sold them a + few."</p> + + <p>"Or it could be the cobalt bombs?"</p> + + <p>"It could be," Telt said, packing his instruments swiftly. "A badly shielded bomb, + or an old one with a crack in the skin, could give a trace like that. Just a little + radon leaking out would do it."</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image14.jpg" width="600" + height="473" alt="" /></div> + + <p>"Why don't you call Hys on the radio, let him know."</p> + + <p>"Don't want Grandaddy Krafft's listening posts to hear about it. This is our + job—if I'm right. And I have to check my old tapes to make sure. But it's gonna + be worth a raid, I can feel that in my bones. Let's unload your corpse." He helped + Brion, then slipped into the driver's seat.</p> + + <p>"Hold it," Brion said. "Do you have anything in the medbox I can use for Lea. She + seems to have cracked. Not hysterical, but withdrawn. Won't listen to reason, won't do + anything but lie there and ask to go home."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129a" id="Page_129a">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Got the potion here," Telt said, cracking the medbox. "Slaughter-syndrome is what + our medic calls it. Hit a lot of our boys. Grow up all your life hating the idea of + violence, it goes rough when you have to start killing people. Guys breakup, breakdown, + go to pieces lots of different ways. The medic mixed up this stuff. Don't know how it + works, probably tranquilizers and some of the cortex drugs. But it peels off recent + memories. Maybe for the last ten, twelve hours. You can't get upset about what you + don't remember." He pulled out a sealed package. "Directions on the box. Good + luck."</p> + + <p>"Luck," Brion said, and shook the technician's calloused hand. "Let me know if the + traces are strong enough to be bombs." He checked the street to make sure it was clear, + then pressed the door button. The sandcar churned out into the brilliant sunshine and + was gone, the throb of it's motor dying in the distance. Brion closed the door and went + back to Lea. Ulv was still crouched against the wall.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>There was a one-shot disposable hypodermic in the box. Lea made no protest when he + broke the seal and pressed the needle against her arm. She sighed and her eyes closed + again. When he saw she was resting easily, he dragged in the tarpaulin-wrapped body of + the magter. A workbench ran along one wall and he struggled the corpse up onto it. He + unwrapped the tarpaulin and the sightless eyes stared accusingly up into his.</p> + + <p>Using his knife, Brion cut away the loose, bloodsoaked clothing. Strapped under the + clothes, around the man's waist, was the familiar collection of Disan artifacts. This + could have significance either way. Human or humanoid, it would still have to live on + Dis. Brion threw it aside, along with the rest of the clothing. Nude, pierced, bloody, + the corpse lay before him.</p> + + <p>In every external physical detail the man was human.</p> + + <p>Brion's theory was becoming more preposterous with each discovery. If the + <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'mager'">magter</ins> + weren't alien, how could he explain their complete lack of emotions? A mutation of some + kind? He didn't see how it was possible. There <i>had</i> to be something alien, about + the dead man before him. The future of a world rested on this flimsy hope. If Telt's + lead to the bombs proved to be false, there would be no hope left at all.</p> + + <p>Lea was still unconscious when he looked at her. There was no way of telling how + long the coma would last. He would probably have to waken her out of it, but didn't + want to do it too early. It took an effort to control his impatience, even though he + knew the drug needed time to work in. He finally decided on at least a minimum of an + hour before he should try to disturb her. That would be noon—twelve hours before + destruction.</p> + + <p>One thing he should do was get in touch with Professor-Commander Krafft. Maybe it + was being defeatist, yet he had to make sure that they had a way off this planet if the + mission failed. Krafft had installed a relay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130a" + id="Page_130a">[Pg 130]</a></span>radio that would forward calls from his personal set. + If this relay had been in the Foundation building, contact was broken. This had to be + found out before it was too late. He thumbed on his radio and sent the call. The reply + came back instantly.</p> + + <p>"This is fleet communications. Will you please keep this circuit open? Commander + Krafft is waiting for this call and it is being put directly through to him now." + Krafft's voice broke in while the operator was still talking.</p> + + <p>"Who is making this call—is it anyone from the Foundation?" The old man's + voice was shaky with emotion.</p> + + <p>"Brandd here. I have Lea Morees with me—"</p> + + <p>"No more? Are there no other survivors from the disaster that destroyed your + building?"</p> + + <p>"That's it, other than us it's a ... complete loss. With the building and all the + instruments gone I have no way to contact our ship in orbit. Can you arrange to get us + out of here if necessary?"</p> + + <p>"Give me your location, a ship is coming now—"</p> + + <p>"I don't need a ship now," Brion interrupted. "Don't send it until I call. If there + is a way to stop your destruction, I'll find it. So I'm staying—to the last + minute if necessary."</p> + + <p>Krafft was silent. There was just the crackle of an open mike and the sound of + breathing. "That is your decision," he said finally. "I'll have a ship standing by. But + won't you let us take Miss Morees out now?"</p> + + <p>"No. I need her here. We are still working, looking for—"</p> + + <p>"What answer can you find that could possibly avert destruction now?" His tone was + between hope and despair. Brion couldn't help him.</p> + + <p>"If I succeed—you'll know. Otherwise, that will be the end of it. End of + transmission." He switched the radio off.</p> + + <p>Lea was sleeping easily when he looked at her, and there was still a good part of + the hour left before he could wake her. How could he put it to use? She would need + tools, instruments to examine the corpse, there were certainly none here. Perhaps there + were some he could find in the ruins of the Foundation building. With this thought he + had the sudden desire to see the wreckage up close, and talk to the men he had seen + working there. There might be other survivors. He had to find out.</p> + + <p>Ulv was still crouched against the wall in the outer room. He looked up angrily when + Brion came over, but said nothing.</p> + + <p>"Will you help me again?" Brion asked. "Stay and watch the girl while I go out. I'll + be back at noon." Ulv didn't answer. "I am still looking for the way to save Dis," + Brion said.</p> + + <p>"Go, I'll watch the girl!" Ulv spat the words in impotent fury. "I do not know what + to do. You may be right. Go. She will be safe with me."</p> + + <p>Brion slipped out into the deserted street and half running, half walking, made his + way towards the rubble that had been the Cultural Relationships Foundation. He used a + different <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131a" id="Page_131a">[Pg + 131]</a></span>course than the one they had come by, striking first towards the outer + edge of the city. Once there he could swing and approach from the other side, so there + would be no indication where he had come from. The magter might be watching and he + didn't want to lead them to Lea and the stolen body.</p> + + <p>Turning a corner he saw a sandcar stopped in the street ahead. There was something + familiar about the lines of it. It could be the one he and Telt had used, but he wasn't + sure. He looked around, but the dusty, packed-dirt street was white and empty, + shimmering in silence under the sun. Staying close to the wall and watching carefully, + Brion slipped towards the car. When he came close to the rear tracks he was positive it + was the one he had been in the night before. What was it doing here?</p> + + <p>Silence and heat filled the street. Windows and doors were empty and there was no + motion in their shadows. Putting his foot on a bogey wheel he reached up and grabbed + the searing metal rim of the open window. He pulled himself up and stared at Telt's + smiling face.</p> + + <p>Smiling in death. The lips pulled back to reveal the grinning teeth, the eyes + bursting from the head, the features swollen and contorted from the deadly poison. A + tiny, tufted dart of wood stuck innocently in the brown flesh on the side of his + neck.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + + <p>Brion hurled himself backward and sprawled flat in the dust and filth of the road. + No poison dart sought him out, the empty silence still reigned. Telt's murderers had + come and gone. Moving quickly, using the bulk of the car as a shield, he opened the + door and slipped inside.</p> + + <p>They had done a thorough job of destruction. All of the controls had been battered + into uselessness, the floor was a junk heap of crushed equipment, intertwined with + loops of recording tape <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'bulding'">bulging</ins> like mechanical + intestines. A gutted machine, destroyed like its driver.</p> + + <p>It was easy enough to reconstruct what had happened. The car had been seen when they + entered the city—probably by some of the magter who had destroyed the Foundation + building. They had not seen where it had gone, or Brion would surely be dead by now. + But they must have spotted it when Telt tried to leave the city. And stopped it in the + most effective way possible, a dart through the open window into the unsuspecting + driver's neck.</p> + + <p>Telt dead. The brutal impact of the man's death had driven all thought of its + consequences from Brion's mind. Now he began to realize. Telt had never sent word of + his discovery of the radioactive trace to the Nyjord army. He had been afraid to use + the radio, and had wanted to tell Hys in person, and to show him the tape. Only now the + tape was torn and mixed with all the others, the brain that could have analyzed it + dead.</p> + + <p>Brion looked at the dangling entrails of the radio and spun for the <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_132a" id="Page_132a">[Pg 132]</a></span>door. Running swiftly + and erratically he fled from the sandcar. His own survival and the possible survival of + Dis depended on his not being seen near it. He must contact Hys and pass on the + information. Until he did that he was the only offworlder on Dis who knew which magter + tower might contain the world-destroying bombs.</p> + + <p>Once out of sight of the sandcar he went slower, wiping the sweat from his streaming + face. He hadn't been seen leaving the car, and he wasn't being followed. The streets + here weren't familiar, but he checked his direction by the sun and walked at a steady + fast pace towards the destroyed building. More of the native Disans were in the streets + now. They all noticed him, some even stopped and scowled fiercely. With his empathic + awareness he felt their anger and hatred. A knot of men radiated death and he put his + hand on his gun as he passed them. Two of them had their blowguns ready, but didn't use + them. By the time he had turned the next corner he was soaked with nervous + perspiration.</p> + + <p>Ahead was the rubble of the destroyed building. Grounded next to it was the tapered + form of a spacer's pinnace. Two men had come from the open lock and were standing at + the edge of the burnt area.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion's boots grated loudly on the broken wreckage. The men turned quickly towards + him, guns raised. Both of them carried ion-rifles. They relaxed when they saw his + offworld clothes.</p> + + <p>"Savages," one of them growled. He was a heavyplanet man, a squashed down column of + muscle and gristle, whose head barely reached Brion's chest. A pushed-back cap had the + crossed-sliderule symbol of ship's computer man.</p> + + <p>"Can't blame them, I guess," the second man said. He wore purser's insignia. His + features were different, but with the same compacted body they were as physically alike + as twins. Probably from the same home planet. "They gonna get their whole world blown + from under them at midnight. Looks like the poor slob in the streets finally realized + what is happening. Hope we're in jump-space by then. I saw Estrada's World get it and I + don't want to see that again, not twice in one lifetime!"</p> + + <p>The computer man was looking closely at Brion, head tilted sideways to see his face. + "You need transportation offworld?" he asked. "We're the last ship at the port, and + we're going to boil out of here as soon as the rest of our cargo is aboard. Give you a + lift if you need it."</p> + + <p>Only by a tremendous effort at control did Brion conceal the destroying sorrow that + overwhelmed him when he looked at that shattered wasteland, the graveyard of so many. + "No," he said. "That won't be necessary. I'm in touch with the blockading fleet and + they'll pick me up before midnight."</p> + + <p>"You from Nyjord?" the purser growled.</p> + + <p>"No," Brion said, still only half aware of the men. "But there is trouble + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133a" id="Page_133a">[Pg 133]</a></span>with my own + ship." He realized that they were looking intently at him, that he owed them some kind + of explanation. "I thought I could find a way to stop the war. Now ... I'm not so + sure." He hadn't intended to be so frank with the spacemen, but the words had been + topmost in his thoughts and had simply slipped out.</p> + + <p>The computer man started to say something, but his shipmate speared him in the side + with his elbow. "We blast soon—and I don't like the way these Disans are looking + at us. Captain said to find out what caused the fire, then get back. So let's go."</p> + + <p>"Don't miss your ship," the computer man said to Brion and started for the pinnace. + Then he hesitated and turned. "Sure there's nothing we can do for you."</p> + + <p>Sorrow would accomplish nothing. Brion fought to sweep the dregs of emotion from his + mind and to think clearly. "You can help me," he said. "I could use a scalpel or any + other surgical instruments you might have." Lea would need those. Then he remembered + Telt's undelivered message. "Do you have a portable radio transceiver—I can pay + you for it."</p> + + <p>The computer man vanished inside the rocket and reappeared a minute later with a + small package. "There's a scalpel and a magnetized tweezers in here, all I could find + in the medkit. Hope they'll do." He reached inside and swung out the metal case of a + self-contained transceiver. "Take this, it's got plenty of range, even on the longer + frequencies." He raised his hand at Brion's offer to pay. "My donation," he said. "If + you can save this planet, I'll give you the whole pinnace as well. We'll tell the + captain we lost the radio in some trouble with the natives. Isn't that right, + Moneybags?" He prodded the purser in the chest with a finger that would have punched a + hole in a weaker man.</p> + + <p>"I read you loud and clear," the purser said. "I'll make out an invoice so stating, + back in the ship." They were both in the pinnace then, and Brion had to move fast to + get clear of the take-off blast.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Sense of obligation, the spacemen had felt it too. The realization of this raised + Brion's spirits a bit as he searched through the rubble for anything useful. He + recognized part of a wall still standing as a corner of the laboratory. Poking through + the ruins he unearthed broken instruments and a single, battered case that had barely + missed destruction. Inside was the binocular microscope, the right tube bent, its + lenses cracked and obscured. The left eyepiece still seemed to be functioning. Brion + carefully put it back in the case. He looked at his watch.</p> + + <p>It was almost noon. These few pieces of equipment would have to do for the + dissection. Watched suspiciously by the onlooking Disans, he started back to the + warehouse. It was a long, circuitous walk, since he didn't dare give any clues to his + destination. Only when he was positive he had not been observed or followed did he slip + through the building's entrance, locking it behind him.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134a" id="Page_134a">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + + <p>Lea's frightened eyes met his when he went into the office. "A friendly smile here + among the cannibals," she called. Her strained expression gave the lie to the + cheeriness of her words. "What has happened? Since I woke up, the great stone face over + there," she pointed to Ulv, "has been telling me exactly nothing."</p> + + <p>"What's the last thing you can remember?" Brion asked carefully. He didn't want to + tell her too much, less this bring on the shock again. Ulv had shown great presence of + mind in not talking to her.</p> + + <p>"If you must know," Lea said, "I remember quite a lot, Brion Brandd. I shan't go + into details, since this sort of thing is best kept from the natives. For the record + then, I can recall going to sleep after you left. And nothing since then. It's weird. I + went to sleep in that lumpy hospital bed and woke up on this couch. Feeling simply + terrible. With <i>him</i> just simply sitting there and scowling at me. Won't you + please tell me what is going on?"</p> + + <p>A partial truth was best, saving all of the details that he could for later. "The + magter attacked the Foundation building," he said. "They are getting angry at all + offworlders now. You were still knocked out by a sleeping drug, so Ulv helped bring you + here. It's afternoon now—"</p> + + <p>"Of the last day?" She sounded horrified. "While I'm playing sleeping beauty the + world is coming to an end. Was anyone hurt in the attack? Or killed?"</p> + + <p>"There were a number of casualties—and plenty of trouble," Brion said. He had + to get her off the subject. Walking over to the corpse he threw back the cover from its + face. "But this is more important right now. It's one of the magter. I have a scalpel + and some other things here—will you perform an autopsy?"</p> + + <p>Lea huddled back on the couch, her arms around herself, looking chilled in spite of + the heat of the day. "What happened to the people at the building?" she asked in a thin + voice. The injection had removed her memories of the tragedy, but echoes of the strain + and shock still reverberated in her mind and body. "I feel so ... exhausted. Please + tell me what happened. I have the feeling you're hiding something."</p> + + <p>Brion sat next to her and took her hands in his, not surprised to find them cold. + Looking into her eyes he tried to give her some of his strength. "It wasn't very nice," + he said. "You were shaken up by it, I imagine that's why you feel the way you do now. + But—Lea, you'll have to take my word for this. Don't ask any more questions. + There's nothing we can do now about it. But we can still find out about the magter. + Will you examine the corpse?"</p> + + <p>She tried to ask something, then changed her mind. When she dropped her eyes Brion + felt the thin shiver that went through her body. "There's something terribly wrong," + she said. "I know that. I guess I'll have to take your word that it's best not to ask + questions. Help me up, will you, darling? My legs are absolutely liquid."</p> + + <p>Leaning on him, with his arm <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135a" id= + "Page_135a">[Pg 135]</a></span>around her supporting most of her weight, she went + slowly across to the corpse. She looked down and shuddered. "Not what you would call a + natural death," she said. Ulv watched intently as she took the scalpel out of its + holder. "You don't have to look at this," she told him in halting Disan. "Not if you + don't want to."</p> + + <p>"I want to," he told her, not taking his eyes from the body. "I have never seen a + magter dead before, or without covering, like ordinary people." He continued to stare + fixedly.</p> + + <p>"Find me some drinking water, will you Brion," Lea said. "And spread the tarp under + the body. These things are quite messy."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>After drinking the water she seemed stronger, and could stand without holding onto + the table with both hands. Placing the tip of the scalpel just below the magter's + breast bone, she made the long continuous post-mortem incision down to the pubic + symphysis. The great, body-length wound gaped open like a red mouth. Across the table + Ulv shuddered but didn't avert his eyes.</p> + + <p>One by one she dissected the internal organs and removed them. Once she looked up at + Brion, then quickly returned to work. The silence stretched on and on until Brion had + to break it.</p> + + <p>"Tell me, can't you. Have you found out anything?"</p> + + <p>His words snapped the thin strand of her strength, and she staggered back to the + couch and collapsed on to it. Her blood-stained hands hung over the side, making a + strangely terrible contrast to the whiteness of her skin.</p> + + <p>"I'm sorry, Brion," she said. "But there's nothing, nothing at all. There are minor + differences, organic changes I've never seen before—his liver is tremendous for + one thing. But changes like this are certainly consistent within the pattern of Homo + sapiens as adopted to a different planet. He's a man. Changed, adopted, + modified—but still just as human as you or I."</p> + + <p>"How can you be sure?" Brion broke in. "You haven't examined him completely, have + you?" She shook her head now. "Then go on. The other organs. His brain. A microscopic + examination. Here!" he said, pushing the microscope case towards her with both + hands.</p> + + <p>She dropped her head onto her forearms and sobbed. "Leave me alone, can't you! I'm + tired and sick and fed up with this awful planet. Let them die. I don't care! Your + theory is false, useless. Admit that! And let me wash the filth from my hands—" + Sobbing drowned out her words.</p> + + <p>Brion stood over her and drew in a shuddering breath. Was he wrong? He didn't dare + think about that. He had to go on. Looking down at the thinness of her bent back, with + the tiny projections of her spine pushing through the thin cloth, he felt an immense + pity—a pity he couldn't surrender to. This thin, helpless, frightened woman was + his only resource. She had to work. He had to <i>make</i> her work.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136a" id="Page_136a">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + + <p>Ihjel had done it. Used projective empathy to impress his emotions upon Brion. Now + Brion must do it with Lea. There had been some sessions in the art, but not nearly + enough to make him proficient. Nevertheless he had to try.</p> + + <p>Strength was what Lea needed. Aloud he said simply "You can do it. You have the will + and the strength to finish." And silently his mind cried out the order to obey, to + share his power now that hers was drained and finished.</p> + + <p>Only when she lifted her face and he saw the dried tears did he realize that he had + succeeded. "You will go on?" he asked simply.</p> + + <p>Lea merely nodded and rose to her feet. She shuffled like a sleep-walker, jerked + along by invisible strings. Her strength wasn't her own and it reminded him unhappily + of that last event of the Twenties when he had experienced the same kind of draining + activity. Wiping her hands roughly on her clothes she opened the microscope case.</p> + + <p>"The slides are all broken," she said.</p> + + <p>"This will do," Brion told her, crashing his heel through the glass partition. + Shards tinkled and crashed to the floor. He took some of the bigger pieces and broke + them to rough squares that would fit under the clips on the stage. Lea accepted them + without a word. Putting a drop of the magter's blood on the slide she bent over the + eyepiece.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Her hands shook when she tried to adjust the focusing. Using low power she examined + the specimen, squinting through the angled tube. Once she turned the substage mirror a + bit to catch direct the light streaming in the window. Brion stood behind her, fists + clenched, forcefully controlling his anxiety. "What do you see?" he finally blurted + out.</p> + + <p>"Phagocytes, platelets ... leucocytes ... everything seems normal." Her voice was + dull, exhausted, her eyes blinking with fatigue as she stared into the tube.</p> + + <p>Anger at defeat burned through Brion. Even faced with failure he refused to accept + it. He reached over her shoulder and savagely twisted the turret of microscope until + the longest lens was in position. "If you can't see anything—try the high power! + It's there—I know it's there! I'll get you a tissue specimen." He turned back to + the <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'disembowled'">disemboweled</ins> cadaver.</p> + + <p>His back was turned and he did not see the sudden stiffening of her shoulders, or + the sudden eagerness that seized her fingers as they adjusted the focus. But he did + feel the wave of emotion that welled from her, impinging directly on his <ins class= + "correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'emphatic'">empathic</ins> + sense. "What is it?" he called to her, as if she had spoken aloud.</p> + + <p>"Something ... something here," she said, "in this leucocyte. It's not a normal + structure, but it's familiar. I've seen something like it before, but I just can't + remember." She turned away from the scope and unthinkingly pressed her gory knuckles to + her forehead. "I know I've seen it before."</p> + + <p>Brion squinted into the deserted <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137a" id= + "Page_137a">[Pg 137]</a></span>microscope and made out a dim shape in the center of the + field. It stood out sharply when he focused—the white, jellyfish shape of a + single-celled leucocyte. To his untrained eye there was nothing unusual about it. He + couldn't know what was strange—when he had no idea of what was normal.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image15.jpg" width="600" + height="513" alt="" /></div> + + <p>"Do you see those spherical green shapes grouped together?" Lea asked. Before Brion + could answer she gasped "I remember now!" Her fatigue was forgotten in her excitement. + "<i>Icerya purchasi</i> that was the name, something like that. It's a coccid, a little + scale insect. It had those same shapes collected together within its individual + cells."</p> + + <p>"What do they mean? What is the connection with Dis?"</p> + + <p>"I don't know," she said, "it's just that they look so similar. And I never saw + anything like this in a human cell before. In the coccids, the green particles grow + into a kind of yeast that lives within the insect. Not a parasite, but a real + symbiote—"</p> + + <p>Her eyes opened wide as she caught the significance of her own words. A + symbiote—and Dis was the world where symbiosis and parasitism had become more + advanced and complex than on any other planet. Lea's <span class='pagenum'><a name= + "Page_138a" id="Page_138a">[Pg 138]</a></span>thoughts spun around this fact and chewed + at the fringes of the logic. Brion could sense her concentration and absorption. He did + nothing to break the mood. Her hands were clenched into fists, her eyes staring + unseeingly at the wall as her mind raced.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Brion and Ulv sat quietly, watching her, waiting for her conclusions. The pieces + were falling into shape at last.</p> + + <p>Lea opened her clenched fists and smoothed them on her sodden skirt. She blinked and + turned until she saw Brion. "Is there a tool box here?" she asked.</p> + + <p>Her words were so unexpected that it took Brion a moment to answer. Before he could + say anything she spoke again.</p> + + <p>"No hand tools, it would take too long. Could you find anything like a power + saw—that would be ideal?" She turned back to the microscope, so he didn't have + any opportunity to question her. Ulv was still looking at the body of the magter and + had understood nothing of what they had said. Brion went out into the loading bay.</p> + + <p>There was nothing he could use on the ground floor, so he took the stairs to the + floor above. A corridor here passed by a number of rooms. All of the doors were locked, + including one with the hopeful sign TOOL ROOM on it. He battered at the metal door with + his shoulder without budging it. As he stopped to look for a way in he glanced at his + watch.</p> + + <p>Two o'clock! In ten hours the bombs would fall on Dis.</p> + + <p>The need for haste tore at him. Yet there could be no noise—someone in the + street might hear it. He quickly stripped off his shirt and wrapped it in a loose roll + around the barrel of his gun, extending it in a loose tube in front of the barrel. + Holding the rolled cloth in his left hand, he jammed the gun up tight against the door, + the muzzle against the lock. The single shot was only a dull thud, inaudible outside of + the building. Pieces of broken mechanism jarred and rattled inside the lock and the + door swung open.</p> + + <p>Lea was standing by the body when he came back, holding up the small power saw with + a rotary blade. "Will this do?" he asked. "Runs off its own battery, almost fully + charged, too."</p> + + <p>"Perfect," she answered. "You're both going to have to help me." She switched into + the Disan language. "Ulv, would you find some place where you can watch the street + without being seen. Signal me when it is empty. I'm afraid this saw is going to make a + lot of noise."</p> + + <p>Ulv nodded and went out into the bay, climbing a heap of empty crates so he could + peer through the small windows set high in the wall. He looked carefully in both + directions, then waved to her to go ahead.</p> + + <p>"Stand to one side and hold the cadaver's chin, Brion," she said. "Hold it firmly so + the head doesn't shake around when I cut. This is going to be a little gruesome. I'm + sorry. But <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139a" id="Page_139a">[Pg + 139]</a></span>it'll be the fastest way to cut the bone." The saw bit into the + skull.</p> + + <p>Once Ulv waved them into silence, and shrank back himself into the shadows next to + the window. They waited impatiently until he gave them a sign to continue again. Brion + held steady while the saw cut a circle completely around the skull.</p> + + <p>"Finished," Lea said and the saw dropped from her limp fingers to the floor. She + massaged life back into her hands before she finished the job. Carefully and delicately + she removed the cap of bone from the magter's head, exposing his brain to the shaft of + light from the window.</p> + + <p>"You were right all the time, Brion," she said. "There is your alien."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + + <p>Ulv joined them as they looked down at the exposed brain of the magter. The thing + was so clearly evident that even Ulv noticed it.</p> + + <p>"I have seen dead animals and my people dead with their heads open, but I have never + seen anything like that before," he said.</p> + + <p>"What is it?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"The invader, the alien you were looking for," Lea told him.</p> + + <p>The magter's brain was only two-thirds of its normal size. Instead of filling the + skull completely, it shared the space with a green, amorphous shape. This was ridged + somewhat like a brain, but the green shape had still darker nodules and extensions. Lea + took her scalpel and gently prodded the dark moist mass.</p> + + <p>"It reminds me very much of something that I've seen before on Earth," she said. + "The green-fly—<i>Drepanosiphum platanoides</i>—and an unusual organ it + has, called the pseudova. Now that I have seen this growth in the magter's skull I can + think of a positive parallel. The fly <i>Drepanosiphum</i> also has a large green + organ, only it fills half of the body cavity instead of the head. Its identity puzzled + biologists for years, and they had a number of complex theories to explain it away. + Finally someone managed to dissect and examine it. The pseudova turned out to be a + living plant, a yeastlike growth that helps with the green-fly's digestion. It produces + enzymes that enable the fly to digest the great amounts of sugar it gets from plant + juice."</p> + + <p>"That's not unusual," Brion said, puzzled. "Termites and human beings are a couple + of other creatures whose digestion is helped by internal flora. What's the difference + in the green-fly?"</p> + + <p>"Reproduction, mainly. All the other gut-living plants have to enter the host and + establish themselves as outsiders, permitted to remain as long as they are useful. The + green-fly and its yeast plant have a permanent symbiotic relationship that is essential + to the existence of both. The plant spores appear in many places throughout the fly's + body—but they are <i>always</i> in the germ cells. Every egg cell has some, and + every egg that grows to maturity is infected with the plant spores. The continuation of + the symbiosis is unbroken and guaranteed.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + + <p>"Do you think those green spheres in the magter's blood cells could be the same kind + of thing?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"I'm sure of it," Lea said. "It must be the same process. There are probably green + spheres throughout the magters' bodies, spores or offspring of those things in their + brains. Enough will find their way to the germ cells to make sure that every young + magter is infected at birth. While the child is growing—so is the symbiote. + Probably a lot faster since it seems to be a simpler organism. I imagine it is well + established in the brain pan within the first six months of the infant's life."</p> + + <p>"But why?" Brion asked. "What does it do?"</p> + + <p>"I'm only guessing now, but there is plenty of evidence that gives us an idea of its + function. I'm willing to bet that the symbiote itself is not a simple organism, it's + probably an amalgam of plant and animal like most of the other creatures on Dis. The + thing is just too complex to have developed since mankind has been on this planet. The + magter must have caught the symbiotic infection by eating some Disan animal. The + symbiote lived and flourished in its new environment. Well protected by a bony skull in + a long-lived host. In exchange for food, oxygen and comfort, the brain-symbiote must + generate hormones and enzymes that enable the magter to survive. Some of these might + aid digestion, enabling the magter to eat any plant or animal life they can lay their + hands on. The symbiote might produce sugars, scavenge the blood of toxins—there + are so many things it could do. Things it must have done, since the magter are + obviously the dominant life form on this planet. They paid a high price for their + symbiote, but it didn't really matter to race-survival until now. Did you notice that + the magter's brain is no smaller than normal?"</p> + + <p>"It must be—or how else could that brain-symbiote fit in inside the skull with + it?" Brion said.</p> + + <p>"If the magter's total brain were smaller in volume than normal, it could fit into + the remaining space in the cranial hollow. But the brain is full-sized—it is just + that part of it is missing, absorbed by the symbiote."</p> + + <p>"The frontal lobes," Brion said with sudden realization. "This hellish growth has + performed a prefrontal lobotomy!"</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"It's done even more than that," Lea said, separating the convolutions of the gray + matter with her scalpel to uncover a green filament beneath. "These tendrils penetrate + farther back into the brain, but always remain in the cerebrum. The cerebellum appears + to be untouched. Apparently just the higher functions of mankind have been interfered + with, selectively. Destruction of the frontal lobes made the magter creatures without + emotions or ability for really abstract thought. Apparently they survived better + without these. There must have been some horrible failures before the right balance was + struck. The final product is a man-plant-animal symbiote that is admirably adapted for + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>survival on + this disaster world. No emotions to cause complications or desires that might interfere + with pure survival. Complete ruthlessness—mankind has always been strong on this + anyway, so it didn't take much of a push."</p> + + <p>"The other Disans, like Ulv here, managed to survive without turning into such a + creature. So why was it necessary for the magter to go so far?"</p> + + <p>"Nothing is necessary in evolution, you know that," Lea said. "Many variations are + possible and all the better ones continue. You might say that Ulv's people survive, but + the magter survive better. If offworld contact hadn't been re-established, I imagine + that the magter would slowly have become the dominant race. Only they won't have the + chance now. It looks as though they have succeeded in destroying both races with their + suicidal urge."</p> + + <p>"That's the part that doesn't make sense," Brion said. "The magter have survived and + climbed right to the top of the evolutionary heap here. Yet they are suicidal. How come + they haven't been wiped out before this?"</p> + + <p>"Individually they have been aggressive to the point of suicide. They will attack + anything and everything with the same savage lack of emotion. Luckily there are no + bigger animals on this planet. So where they have died as individuals, their utter + ruthlessness has guaranteed their survival as a group. Now they are faced with a + problem that is too big for their half-destroyed minds to handle. Their personal policy + has become their planetary policy—and that's never a very smart thing. They are + like men with knives who have killed all the men who were only armed with stones. Now + they are facing men with guns and they are going to keep charging and fighting until + they are all dead.<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits closing double-quotes">"</ins></p> + + <p>"It's a perfect case of the utter impartiality of the forces of evolution. Men + infected by this Disan life form were the dominant creatures on this planet. The + creature in the magters' brains was a true symbiote then, giving something and + receiving something. Making a union of symbiotes where all were stronger together than + any could be separately. Now this is changed. The magter brain cannot understand the + concept of racial death, in a situation where it must understand to be able to survive. + Therefore, the brain-creature is no longer a symbiote but a parasite."</p> + + <p>"And as a parasite it must be destroyed!" Brion broke in. "We're not fighting + shadows any more," he exulted. "We've found the enemy—and it's not the magter at + all. Just a sort of glorified tapeworm that is too stupid to know when it is killing + itself off. Does it have a brain—can it think?"</p> + + <p>"I doubt it very much," Lea said. "A brain would be of absolutely no use to it. So + even if it originally possessed reasoning powers they would be gone by now. Symbiotes + or parasites that live internally like this always degenerate to an absolute minimum of + functions...."</p> + + <p>"Tell me about it? What is this <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id= + "Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>thing?" Ulv broke in, producing the soft form of the + brain-symbiote. He had heard all their excited talk but had not understood a word.</p> + + <p>"Explain it to him, will you Lea, as best you can," Brion said, looking at her and + realized how exhausted she was. "And sit down while you do it, you're long overdue for + a rest. I'm going to try—" He broke off when he looked at his watch.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>It was after four in the afternoon—less than eight hours to go. What was he to + do? Enthusiasm faded as he realized that only half of the problem was solved. The bombs + would drop on schedule unless the Nyjorders could understand the significance of this + discovery. Even if they understood—would it make any difference to them? The + threat of the hidden cobalt bombs would not be changed.</p> + + <p>With this thought came the guilty realization that he had forgotten completely about + Telt's death. Even before he contacted the Nyjord fleet he must tell Hys and his rebel + army what had happened to Telt and his sandcar. Also about the radioactive traces. They + couldn't be checked against the records now to see how important they might be, but Hys + might make another raid on the strength of the suspicion. This call wouldn't take long, + then he would be free to tackle Professor-Commander Krafft.</p> + + <p>Carefully setting the transmitter on the frequency of the rebel army, he sent out a + call to Hys. There was no answer.</p> + + <p>There was always a chance the set was broken. He quickly twisted the transmitter to + the frequency of his personal radio, then whistled in the microphone. The received + signal was so loud that it hurt his ears. He tried to call Hys again, and was relieved + to get a response this time.</p> + + <p>"Brion Brandd here, can you read me? I want to talk to Hys at once."</p> + + <p>Shockingly, it was Professor-Commander Krafft who answered.</p> + + <p>"I'm sorry Brion, but it's impossible to talk to Hys. We are monitoring his + frequency and your call was relayed to me. Hys and his rebels lifted ship about a half + an hour ago, and are already on the way back to Nyjord. Are you ready to leave now? It + will soon become dangerous to make any landings. Even now I will have to ask for + volunteers to get you out of there."</p> + + <p>Hys and the rebel army gone. Brion assimilated the thought at the same moment he + realized he was talking to Krafft. He was thrown off balance, not prepared for the + encounter.</p> + + <p>"If they're gone—well, then there's nothing I can do about it," Brion said. "I + was going to call you, so I can talk to you now. Listen and try to understand. You must + cancel the bombing. I've found out about the magter, found what causes their mental + aberration. If we can correct that, we can stop them from attacking Nyjord—"</p> + + <p>"Can they be corrected by midnight tonight?" Krafft broke in. He was abrupt and + sounded annoyed. Even saints get tired.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + + <p>"No, of course not." Brion frowned at the microphone, realizing the talk was going + all wrong, but not knowing how to fix it. "But it won't take too long. I have evidence + here that will convince you that what I say is the truth."</p> + + <p>"I believe you without seeing it, Brion." The trace of anger was gone from Krafft's + voice now and it was heavy with fatigue and defeat. "I'll admit you are probably right. + A little while ago I admitted to Hys, too, that he was probably right in his original + estimation of the correct way to tackle the problem of Dis. We have made a lot of + mistakes, and in making them we have run out of time. I'm afraid that is the only fact + that is relevant now. The bombs fall at twelve and even then they may drop too late. A + ship is already on its way from Nyjord with my replacement. I exceeded my authority by + running a day past the maximum the technicians gave me. I realize now I was gambling + the life of my own world in the vain hope I could save Dis. They can't be saved. + They're dead. I won't hear any more about it."</p> + + <p>"You must listen—"</p> + + <p>"I must destroy the planet below me, that is what I must do. That fact will not be + changed by anything you say. All the offworlders—other than your party—are + gone. I'm sending a ship down now to pick you up. As soon as that ship lifts I am going + to drop the first bombs. Now—tell me where you are so they can come for you."</p> + + <p>"Don't threaten me, Krafft!" Brion shook his fist at the radio in an excess of + anger. "You're a killer and a world destroyer, don't try and make yourself out as + anything else. I have the knowledge to avert this slaughter and you won't listen to me. + And I know where the cobalt bombs are—in the magter tower that Hys raided last + night. Get those bombs and there is no need to drop any of your own!"</p> + + <p>"I'm sorry, Brion. I appreciate what you're trying to do, yet at the same time I + know the futility of it. I'm not going to accuse you of lying, but do you realize how + thin your evidence sounds from this end? First a dramatic discovery of the cause of the + magters' intransigency. Then, when that had no results, you suddenly remember that you + know where the bombs are. The best kept magter secret...."</p> + + <p>"I don't know for sure, but there is a very good chance," Brion said, trying to + repair his defenses. "Telt made readings, he had other records of radioactivity in this + same magter keep. Proof that something is there. But Telt is dead now, the records + destroyed. Don't you see—" He broke off, realizing how vague and unprovable his + case was. This was defeat.</p> + + <p>The radio was silent, with just the hum of the carrier wave as Krafft waited for him + to continue. When Brion did speak his voice was empty of all hope.</p> + + <p>"Send your ship down," he said tiredly. "We're in a building that belonged to the + Light Metals Trust Ltd., a big warehouse of some kind. I don't know the address here, + but I'm <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>sure + you have someone there who can find it. We'll be waiting for you.<ins class= + "correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits closing double-quotes">"</ins></p> + + <p>"You win Krafft."</p> + + <p>He turned off the radio.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 214px;"><img src="images/image16.jpg" width="214" + height="600" alt="" /></div> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + + <p>"Do you mean what you said, about giving up?" Lea asked. Brion realized that she had + stopped talking to Ulv some time ago, and had been listening to his conversation with + Krafft. He shrugged, trying to put his feeling into words.</p> + + <p>"We've tried—and almost succeeded. But if they won't listen what can we do? + What can one man possibly do against a fleet loaded with H-bombs?"</p> + + <p>As if in answer to his question Ulv's voice drowned him out. The harsh Disan words + slashing the silence of the room.</p> + + <p>"Kill you, the enemy!" he said. "Kill you <i>umedvirk</i>!"</p> + + <p>He shouted the last word and his hand flashed to his belt. In a single swift motion + he lifted his blowgun and placed it to his lips. A tiny dart quivered in the already + dead flesh of the creature in the magter's skull. The action had all the symbolism of a + broken lance, the declaration of war.</p> + + <p>"Ulv understands it a lot better than you might think," Lea said. "He knows things + about symbiosis and mutualism that would get him a job as a lecturer in any university + on Earth. He knows just what the brain-symbiote is and what it does. They even have a + word for it, one that never appeared in our Disan language <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>lessons. A life form that + you can live with or co-operate with is called <i>medvirk</i>. One that works to + destroy you is <i>umedvirk</i>. He also understands that life forms can change, and be + <i>medvirk</i> or <i>umedvirk</i> at different times. He has just decided that the + brain symbiote is <i>umedvirk</i> and is out to kill it. So will the rest of the Disans + as soon as he can show them the evidence and explain."</p> + + <p>"You're sure of this," Brion asked, interested in spite of himself.</p> + + <p>"Positive. The Disans have a very absolute attitude towards survival, you should + realize that. Not the same as the magter, but not much different in the results. They + will kill the brain-symbiote, even if it means killing every magter who harbors + one."</p> + + <p>"If that is the case, we can't leave now," Brion said. With these words it suddenly + became very clear what he had to do. "The ship is coming down now from the fleet. Get + in it and take the body of the magter. I won't go."</p> + + <p>"Where will you be?" she asked.</p> + + <p>"Fighting the magter. My presence on the planet means that Krafft won't keep his + threat to drop the bombs any earlier than the midnight deadline. That would be + deliberately murdering me. I doubt if my presence past midnight will stop him, but it + should keep the bombs away at least until then."</p> + + <p>"What will you accomplish besides committing suicide?" Lea pleaded. "You just told + me how a single man can't stop the bombs. What will happen to you at midnight?"</p> + + <p>"I'll be dead—but in spite of that I can't run away. Not now. I must do + everything possible right up until the last instant. Ulv and I will go to the magter + tower, try to find out if the bombs are there. He will fight on our side now. He may + even know more about the bombs, things that he didn't want to tell me before. We can + get help from his people. Some of them must know where the bombs are, being native to + this planet." Lea started to say something, but he rushed on, drowning out her + words.</p> + + <p>"You have just as big a job. Show the magter to Krafft, explain the significance of + the brain-parasite to him. Try and get him to talk to Hys about the last raid. Try to + get him to hold off the attack. I'll keep the radio with me and as soon as I know + anything I'll call in. This is all last resort, finger in the dike kind of stuff, but + it is all we can do.<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original omits closing double-quotes">"</ins></p> + + <p>"Because if we do nothing it means the end of Dis."</p> + + <p>Lea tried to argue with him, but he wouldn't listen to her. He only kissed her, and + with a lightness he did not feel tried to convince her that everything would be all + right. In their hearts they both knew it wasn't, yet they left it that way because it + was the least painful solution.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>A sudden rumbling shook the building and the windows darkened as a ship settled in + the street outside. The Nyjord crew came in with guns pointed, alert for anything. With + a little convincing they took the cadaver, as well as Lea, when they lifted + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>ship. Brion + watched the spacer become a pinpoint in the sky and vanish. He shrugged his shoulders, + trying to shake off the feeling that this was the last time he would see any of + them.</p> + + <p>"Let's get out of here fast," he told Ulv, picking up the radio. "Before anyone + comes around to see why the ship landed."</p> + + <p>"What will you do," Ulv asked, as they went down the street towards the desert. + "What can we do in the few hours we have left?" He pointed at the sun, nearing the + horizon. Brion shifted the weight of the radio to his other hand before replying.</p> + + <p>"Get to the magter tower we raided last night, that's the best chance. The bombs + might be there. Unless you know where the bombs are?"</p> + + <p>Ulv shook his head. "I do not know, but some of my people may. We will capture a + magter then kill him so they can all see the <i>umedvirk</i>. Then they will tell us + everything they know."</p> + + <p>"The tower first then, for bombs or a sample magter. What's the fastest way we can + get there?"</p> + + <p>Ulv frowned in thought. "If you can drive one of the cars the offworlders use, I + know where there are some locked in buildings in this city. None of my people know how + they are made to move."</p> + + <p>"I can work them—let's go."</p> + + <p>Chance was with them this time. The first sandcar they found still had the keys in + the lock. It was battery powered, but contained a full charge. Much quieter than the + heavy atomic cars it sped smoothly out of the city and across the sand. Ahead of them + the sun sank in a red wave of color and it was six o'clock. By the time they reached + the tower it was seven and Brion's nerves felt as if they were writhing under his + skin.</p> + + <p>Even though it looked like suicide, attacking the tower brought blessed relief. It + was movement and action, and for moments at a time he forgot the bombs hanging over his + head.</p> + + <p>The attack was nerve-wrackingly anticlimactic. They used the main entrance, Ulv + ranging soundlessly ahead. There was no one in sight. Once inside they crept down + towards the lower rooms where the radiation had been detected. Only gradually did they + realize that the magter tower was completely empty.</p> + + <p>"Everyone gone," Ulv grunted, sniffing the air in every room that they passed. "Many + magter were here earlier, they are gone now."</p> + + <p>"Do they often desert their towers?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"Never. I have never heard of it happening before. I can think of no reason why they + should do a thing like this."</p> + + <p>"Well I can," Brion told him. "They would leave their home if they took something + with them of greater value. The bombs. If the bombs were hidden here, they might move + them after the attack." Sudden fear hit him. "Or they might move them because it is + time to take them—to the launcher! Let's get out of here, the quickest way we + can."</p> + + <p>"I smell air from outside," Ulv <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id= + "Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>said, "coming from down there. This cannot be, because + the magter have no entrances this low in their towers."</p> + + <p>"We blasted one in earlier—that could be it. Can you find it?"</p> + + <p>Moonlight shone ahead as they turned an angle of the corridor, and stars were + visible through the gaping opening in the wall.</p> + + <p>"It looks bigger than it was," Brion said, "as if the magter enlarged it." He looked + through and saw the tracks on the sand outside. "As if they enlarged it to bring + something bulky up from below—and carried it away in whatever made those + tracks!"</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>Using the opening themselves they ran back to the sandcar. Brion ground it fiercely + around and turned the headlights on the tracks. There were the marks of a sandcar's + treads, half obscured by thin, unmarked wheel tracks. He turned off the lights and + forced himself to move slowly and to do an accurate job. A quick glimpse of his watch + showed him there were four hours left to go. The moonlight was bright enough to + illuminate the tracks. Driving with one hand he turned on the radio transmitter, + already set for Krafft's wave length.</p> + + <p>When the operator acknowledged his signal Brion reported what they had discovered + and his conclusions. "Get that message to Commander Krafft now. I can't wait to talk to + him—I'm following the tracks." He killed the transmission and stamped on the + accelerator. The sandcar churned and bounced down the track.</p> + + <p>"They are going to the mountains," Ulv said half an hour later, as the tracks still + pointed straight ahead. "There are caves here and many magter have been seen near them, + that is what I have heard."</p> + + <p>The guess was correct. Before nine o'clock the ground humped into a range of + foothills and the darker masses of mountains could be seen behind them, rising up to + obscure the stars.</p> + + <p>"Stop the car here," Ulv said, "The caves begin not too far ahead. There may be + magter watching or listening, so we must go quietly."</p> + + <p>Brion followed the deep-cut grooves, carrying the radio. Ulv came and went on both + sides, silently as a shadow, scouting for hidden watchers. As far as he could discover + there were none.</p> + + <p>By nine-thirty Brion realized they had deserted the sandcar too soon. The tracks + wound on and on, and seemed to have no end. They passed some caves, Ulv pointed them + out to him, but the tracks never stopped. Time was running out and the nightmare + stumbling through the darkness continued.</p> + + <p>"More caves ahead," Ulv said. "Go quietly."</p> + + <p>They came cautiously to the crest of the hill, as they had done so many times + before, and looked into the shallow valley beyond. Sand covered the valley floor, and + the light of the setting moon shone over the tracks at a flat angle, setting them off + sharply <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>as + lines of shadow. They ran straight across the sandy valley and disappeared into the + dark mouth of a cave on the far side.</p> + + <p>Sinking back behind the hilltop, Brion covered the pilot light with his hand and + turned on the transmitter. Ulv stayed above him, staring at the opening of the + cave.</p> + + <p>"This is an important message," Brion whispered into the mike, "Please record." He + repeated this for thirty seconds, glancing at his watch to make sure of the time, since + the seconds of waiting stretched to minutes in his brain. Then, clearly as possible + without raising his voice above a whisper, he told of the discovery of the tracks and + the cave<ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original had a spurious double-quote here">.</ins></p> + + <p>"... The bombs may or may not be in here, but we are going in to find out. I'll + leave my personal transmitter here with the broadcast power turned on, so you can home + on its signal. That will give you a directional beacon to find the cave. I'm taking the + other radio in, it has more power. If we can't get back to the entrance, I'll try a + signal from inside. I doubt if you will hear it because of the rock, but I'll try. End + of transmission. Don't try to answer me because I have the receiver turned off. There + are no earphones on this set and the speaker would be too loud here."</p> + + <p>He switched off, held his thumb on the button for an instant, then flicked it back + on.</p> + + <p>"Good-by, Lea," he said, and killed the power for good.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>They circled and reached the rocky wall of the cliff. Creeping silently in the + shadows here they slipped up on the dark entrance of the cave. Nothing moved ahead and + there was no sound from the entrance of the cave. Brion glanced at his watch and was + instantly sorry.</p> + + <p>Ten-thirty.</p> + + <p>The last shelter concealing them was five meters from the cave. They started to + rise, to rush the final distance when Ulv suddenly waved Brion down. He pointed to his + nose, then to the cave. He could smell the magter there.</p> + + <p>A dark figure separated itself from the greater darkness of the cave mouth. Ulv + acted instantly. He stood up and his hand went to his mouth; air hissed faintly through + the tube in his hand. Without a noise the magter folded and fell to the ground. Before + the body hit Ulv crouched low and rushed in. There was the sudden scuffling of feet on + the floor, then silence.</p> + + <p>Brion walked in, gun ready and alert, not knowing what he would find. His toe pushed + against a body on the ground and from the darkness Ulv whispered. "There were only two. + We can go on now."</p> + + <p>Finding their way through the cave was a maddening torture. They had no light, nor + could they dare use one if they had. There were no wheel marks to follow on the stone + floor. Without Ulv's sensitive nose they would have been completely lost. The caves + branched and rejoined and they soon lost all sense of direction.</p> + + <p>Walking was maddening and almost <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id= + "Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>impossible. They had to grope with their hands before + them like blind men. Stumbling and falling against the rock, their fingers were soon + throbbing and raw from brushing against the rough walls. Ulv followed the scent of the + magter that hung in the air where they had passed. When it grew thin he knew they had + left the frequently used tunnels and entered deserted ones. They could only retrace + their steps and start again in a different direction.</p> + + <p>More maddening than the walking was the time. Inexorably the glowing hands crept + around the face of Brion's watch until they stood at fifteen minutes before twelve.</p> + + <p>"There is a light ahead," Ulv whispered, and Brion almost gasped with relief. They + moved slowly and silently until they stood, concealed by the darkness, looking out into + a domed chamber brightly lit by glowing tubes.</p> + + <p>"What is it," Ulv asked, blinking in the painful wash of illumination after the long + darkness.</p> + + <p>Brion had to fight to control his voice, to stop from shouting.</p> + + <p>"The cage with the metal webbing is a jump-space generator. The pointed, sliver + shapes next to it are bombs of some kind, probably the cobalt bombs. We've found + it!"</p> + + <p>His first impulse was to instantly send the radio call that would stop the waiting + fleet of H-bombers. But an unconvincing message would be worse than no message at all. + He had to describe exactly what he saw here so the Nyjorders would know he wasn't + lying. What he told them had to fit exactly with the information they already had about + the launcher and the bombs.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>The launcher had been jury-rigged from a ship's jump-space generator, that was + obvious. The generator and its controls were neatly cased and mounted. Cables ran from + them to a roughly constructed cage of woven metal straps, hammered and bent into shape + by hand. Three technicians were working on the equipment. Brion wondered what sort of + bloodthirsty war-lovers the magter had found to handle the bombing for them. Then he + saw the chains around their necks and the bloody wounds on their backs. He still found + it difficult to have any pity for them. They had been obviously willing to accept money + to destroy another planet—or they wouldn't have been working here. They had + probably rebelled only when they had discovered how suicidal the attack would be.</p> + + <p>Thirteen minutes to midnight.</p> + + <p>Cradling the radio against his chest, Brion rose to his feet. He had a better view + of the bombs now. There were twelve of them, alike as eggs from the same deadly clutch. + Pointed like the bow of a spacer, each one swept smoothly back for its two meters of + length, to a sharply chopped off end. They were obviously incomplete, the war heads of + rockets. One had its base turned towards him and he saw six projecting studs that could + be used to attach it to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg + 150]</a></span>missing rocket. A circular inspection port was open in the flat base of + the bomb.</p> + + <p>This was enough. With this description the Nyjorders would know he couldn't be lying + about finding the bombs. Once they realized this they couldn't destroy Dis without + first trying to neutralize them.</p> + + <p>Brion carefully counted fifty paces before he stopped. He was far enough from the + cavern so he couldn't be heard, and an angle of the cave cut off all light from behind + him. With carefully controlled movements he turned on the power, switched the set to + transmit and checked the broadcast frequency. All correct. Then, slowly and clearly, he + described what he had seen in the cavern behind him. He kept his voice emotionless, + recounting facts, leaving out anything that might be considered an opinion.</p> + + <p>It was six minutes before midnight when he finished. He thumbed the switch to + receive and waited.</p> + + <p>There was only silence.</p> + + <p>Slowly, the empty quality of the silence penetrated his numbed mind. There were no + crackling atmospherics nor hiss of static, even when he turned the power full on. The + mass of rock and earth of the mountain above was acting as a perfect grounding screen, + absorbing his signal even at maximum output.</p> + + <p>They hadn't heard him. The Nyjord fleet didn't know that the cobalt bombs had been + discovered before their launching. The attack would go ahead as planned. Even now the + bomb-bay doors were opening, armed H-bombs hung above the planet, held in place only by + their shackles. In a few minutes the signal would be given and the shackles would + spring open, the bombs drop clear....</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"Killers!" Brion shouted into the microphone. "You wouldn't listen to reason, you + wouldn't listen to Hys, or me, or to any voice that suggested an alternative to + complete destruction. You are going to destroy Dis and <i>it's not necessary</i>! There + were a lot of ways you could have stopped it. You didn't do any of them and now it's + too late. You'll destroy Dis and in turn this will destroy Nyjord. Ihjel said that and + now I believe him. You're just another failure in a galaxy full of failures!"</p> + + <p>He raised the radio above his head and sent it crashing into the rock floor. Then he + was running back to Ulv, trying to run away from the realization that he, too, had + tried and failed. The people on the surface of Dis had less than two minutes left to + live.</p> + + <p>"They didn't get my message," Brion said to Ulv. "The radio won't work this far + underground."</p> + + <p>"Then the bombs will fall?" Ulv asked, looking searchingly at Brion's face in the + dim reflected light from the cavern.</p> + + <p>"Unless something happens that we know nothing about, the bombs will fall."</p> + + <p>They said nothing after that, they simply waited. The three technicians <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>in the cavern were also + aware of the time. They were calling to each other and trying to talk to the magter. + The emotionless, parasite-ridden brains of the magter saw no reason to stop work, so + the men were beaten back to their tasks. In spite of the blows they didn't go, just + gaped in horror as the clock hands moved remorselessly towards twelve. Even the magter + dimly felt some of the significance of the occasion. They stopped, too, and waited.</p> + + <p>The hour hand touched twelve on Brion's watch, then the minute hand. The second hand + closed the gap and for a tenth of a second the three black hands were one. Then the + second hand moved on.</p> + + <p>Brion's immediate sensation of relief was washed away by the chilling realization + that he was deep underground. Sound and seismic waves were slow and the flare of atomic + explosions couldn't be seen here. If the bombs had been dropped at twelve, they + wouldn't know it at once.</p> + + <p>A distant rumble filled the air. A moment later the ground heaved under them and the + lights in the cavern flickered. Fine dust drifted down from the roof above.</p> + + <p>Ulv turned to him, but Brion looked away. He could not face the accusation in the + Disan's eyes.</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + + <p>One of the technicians was running and screaming. The magter knocked him down and + beat him into silence. Seeing this the other two men returned to work with shaking + hands. Even if all life on the surface of the planet were dead, this would have no + effect on the magter. They would go ahead as planned, without emotion or imagination + enough to alter their set course. As they worked the technicians' attitude changed from + shocked numbness to anger. Right and wrong were forgotten. They had been + killed—the invisible death of radiation must already be penetrating into the + caves—but they also had the chance for vengeance. Swiftly they brought their work + to completion, with a speed and precision they had concealed before.</p> + + <p>"What are those offworlders doing?" Ulv asked.</p> + + <p>Brion stirred from his lethargy of defeat and looked across the cavern floor. The + men had a wheeled hand-truck and were rolling one of the atomic warheads onto it. They + pushed it over to the latticework of the jump-field.</p> + + <p>"They are going to bomb Nyjord now, just as Nyjord bombed Dis. That machine will + hurl the bombs in a special way to the other planet."</p> + + <p>"Will you stop them?" Ulv asked. He had his deadly blowgun in his hand and his face + was an expressionless mask.</p> + + <p>Brion almost smiled at the irony of the situation. In spite of everything he had + done to prevent it, Nyjord had dropped the bombs. And this act alone may have destroyed + their own planet. Brion had it within his power now to stop the launching in the + cavern. Should he? Should he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg + 152]</a></span>save the lives of his killers? Or should he practice the ancient + blood-oath that had echoed and destroyed down through the ages—<i>An eye for an + eye, a tooth for a tooth.</i> It would be so simple. He literally had to do nothing. + The score would be evened and his and the Disans' deaths avenged.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image17.jpg" width="600" + height="311" alt="" /></div> + + <p>Did Ulv have his blowgun ready to kill Brion if he should try to stop the + launchings? Or had he misread the Disan entirely?</p> + + <p>"Will <i>you</i> stop them, Ulv?" he asked.</p> + + <p>How large was mankind's sense of obligation? The cave man first had this feeling for + his mate, then for his family. It grew until men fought and died for the abstract ideas + of cities and nations, then for whole planets. Would the time <ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'every'">ever</ins> come when men might + realize that the obligation should be to the largest and most encompassing reality of + all? Mankind. And beyond that to life of all kinds.</p> + + <p>Brion saw this idea not in words, but as a reality. When he posed the question to + himself in this way he found that it stated clearly its inherent answer. He pulled his + gun out, and as he did he wondered what Ulv's answer might be.</p> + + <p>"Nyjord is <i>medvirk</i>," Ulv said, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id= + "Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>raising his blowgun and sending a dart across the cavern. + It struck one of the technicians who gasped and fell to the floor.</p> + + <p>Brion's shots crashed into the control board, shorting and destroying it, removing + the menace to Nyjord for all time.</p> + + <p><i>Medvirk</i>, Ulv had said. A life form that co-operates and aids other life + forms. It may kill in self-defense, but is essentially not a killer or destroyer. Ulv + had a lifetime of knowledge about the interdependency of life. He grasped the essence + of the idea and ignored all the verbal complications and confusions. He had killed the + magter, who were his own people, because they were <i>umedvirk</i>—against life. + And saved his enemies because they were <i>medvirk</i>.</p> + + <p>With this realization came the painful knowledge that the planet and the people that + had produced this understanding were dead.</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>In the cavern the magter saw the destruction of their plans, and the cave mouth from + which the bullets had come. Silently they rushed to kill their enemy. A concerted wave + of emotionless fury.</p> + + <p>Brion and Ulv fought back. Even the knowledge that he was doomed no matter what + happened could not resign Brion to death at the hands of the magter. To Ulv, the + decision was much easier. He was simply killing <i>umedvirk</i>. A believer in life, he + destroyed the anti-life.</p> + + <p>They retreated into the darkness, still firing. The magter had lights and + ion-rifles, and were right behind them. Knowing the caverns better than the men they + chased, pursuers circled. Brion saw lights ahead and dragged Ulv to a stop.</p> + + <p>"They know their way through these caves, and we don't," he said. "If we try to run, + they'll just shoot us down. Let's find a spot we can defend and settle into it."</p> + + <p>"Back here," Ulv gave a tug in the right direction, "there is a cave with only one + very narrow entrance."</p> + + <p>"Let's go!"</p> + + <p>Running as silently as they could in the darkness, they reached the deadend cavern + without being seen. What noise they made was lost in other footsteps that echoed and + sounded through the connecting caves. Once inside they found cover behind a ridge and + waited. The end was certain.</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + + <p>The magter ran swiftly into their cave, flashing his light into all the places of + concealment. The beam passed over the two hidden men and at the same instant Brion + fired. The shot boomed loudly as the magter fell. Even if his loss was not known, the + shot would surely have been heard.</p> + + <p>Before anyone else came into the cave, Brion ran over and grabbed the still + functioning light. Propping it on the rocks so it shone on the entrance, he hurried + back to shelter beside Ulv. They waited for the attack.</p> + + <p>It was not long in coming. Two magter rushed in and died. There were more outside, + and Brion wondered how long it would be before they remembered the grenades and rolled + one into their shelter.</p> + + <p>An indistinct murmur sounded outside and some sharp explosions. In their shelter, + Brion and Ulv crouched low and wondered why the attack didn't come. Then one of the + magter came in and Brion hesitated before shooting.</p> + + <p>The man had <i>backed</i> in, firing behind him as he came.</p> + + <p>Ulv had no compunctions about killing, only his darts couldn't penetrate the + magter's thick clothing. As the magter turned Ulv's breath pulsed once and death stung + the back of the other man's hand. He collapsed into a crumpled heap.</p> + + <p>"Don't shoot," a voice said from outside the cave, and a man stepped through the + swirling dust and smoke to stand in the beam from the light.</p> + + <p>Brion clutched wildly at Ulv's arm, dragging the blowgun from the Disan's mouth.</p> + + <p>The man in the light wore a protective helmet, thick boots and a pouch-hung + uniform.</p> + + <p>He was a Nyjorder.</p> + + <p>This shock of reality was almost impossible to accept. Brion had heard the bombs + fall. Yet the Nyjord soldier was here. The two facts couldn't be accepted together.</p> + + <p>"Would you keep a hold on his arm, sir, just in case," the soldier said, glancing + warily at Ulv's blowpipe. "I know what those darts can do." He pulled a microphone from + one of his pockets and spoke into it.</p> + + <p>More soldiers crowded into the cave and Professor-Commander Krafft came in behind + them. He looked strangely out of place in the dusty combat uniform. The gun was even + more grotesque in his blue-veined hand. After relievedly giving the pistol to the + nearest soldier, he stumbled quickly over to Brion and took his hand.</p> + + <p>"It is a profound and sincere pleasure to meet you in person," he said. "And your + friend Ulv as well."</p> + + <p>"Would you kindly explain what is going on," Brion said thickly. He was obsessed by + the strange feeling that none of this could possibly be happening.</p> + + <p>"We will always remember you as the man who saved us from ourselves," Krafft said, + once again the professor instead of the commander.</p> + + <p>"What he wants are facts, Grandpa, not speeches," Hys said. The bent <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>form of the leader of the + rebel Nyjord army pushed through the crowd of taller men until he stood next to Krafft. + "Simply stated, Brion, your plan succeeded. Krafft relayed your message to me—and + as soon as I heard it I turned back and met him on his ship. I'm sorry that Telt's + dead—but he found what we were looking for. I couldn't ignore his report of + radioactive traces. Your girl friend arrived with the hacked up corpse at the same time + I did, and we all took a long look at the green leech in its skull. Her explanation of + what it is made significant sense. We were already carrying out landings when we had + your call about something having been stored in the magter tower. After that it was + just a matter of following tracks—and the transmitter you planted."</p> + + <p>"But the <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'exlosions'">explosions</ins> at midnight," Brion + broke in, "I heard them!"</p> + + <p>"You were supposed to," Hys laughed. "Not only you, but the magter in this cave. We + figured they would be armed and the cave strongly defended. So at midnight we dropped a + few large chemical explosive bombs at the entrance. Enough to kill the guards without + bringing the roof down. We also hoped that the magter deeper in would leave their posts + or retreat from the imagined radiation. They did. Worked like a charm. We came in + quietly and took them by surprise. Made a clean sweep. Killed the ones we couldn't + capture."</p> + + <p>"One of the renegade jump-space technicians was still alive," Krafft said. "He told + us about your stopping the bombs aimed at Nyjord, the two of you."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>None of the Nyjorders there could add anything to his words, not even the cynical + Hys. Yet Brion could empathize their feelings, the warmth of their intense relief and + happiness. It was a sensation he would never forget.</p> + + <p>"There is no more war," Brion translated for Ulv, realizing that the Disan had + understood nothing of the explanation. As he said it, he realized that there was one + glaring error in the story.</p> + + <p>"You couldn't have done it," Brion said, astonished. "You landed on this planet + <i>before</i> you had my message about the tower. That means you still expected the + magter to be sending their bombs to Nyjord—and you made the landings in spite of + this knowledge."</p> + + <p>"Of course," Professor Krafft said, astonished at Brion's lack of understanding. + "What else could we do? The magter are sick!"</p> + + <p>Hys laughed aloud at Brion's baffled expression. "You have to understand Nyjord + psychology," he said. "When it was a matter of war and killing my planet could never + agree on an intelligent course. War is so alien to our philosophy that it couldn't even + be considered correctly. That's the trouble with being a vegetable eater in a galaxy of + carnivores. You're easy prey for the first one that lands on your back. Any other + planet would have jumped on the magter with both feet and shaken the bombs <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>out of them. We fumbled + it so long it almost got both worlds killed. Your mind-parasite drew us back from the + brink."</p> + + <p>"I still don't understand," Brion said. "Why—"</p> + + <p>"Simple matter of definition. Before you came we had no way to deal with the magter + here on Dis. They really were alien to us. Nothing they did made sense—and + nothing we did seemed to have the slightest effect on them. But you discovered that + they were <i>sick</i>, and that's something we know how to handle. We're united again, + my rebel army was instantly absorbed into the rest of the Nyjord forces by mutual + agreement. Doctors and nurses are on the way here now. Plans were put under way to + evacuate what part of the population we could until the bombs were found. The planet is + united again and working hard."</p> + + <p>"Because the magter are sick, infected by a destructive life form?" Brion asked.</p> + + <p>"Exactly so," Professor Krafft said. "We are civilized, after all. You can't expect + us to fight a war—and you surely can't expect us to ignore the plight of sick + neighbors?"</p> + + <p>"No ... you surely can't," Brion said, sitting down heavily. He looked at Ulv, who + knew nothing of the incomprehensible speech. Beyond him Hys wore his most cynical + expression as he considered the <ins class="correction" title= + "Transcriber's note: original reads 'frailities'">frailties</ins> of his people.</p> + + <p>"Hys," Brion called out. "You translate all that into Disan and explain to Ulv. I + wouldn't dare."</p> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + + <p>Dis was a floating golden ball, looking like a schoolroom globe in space. No clouds + obscured its surface, and from this distance it seemed warm and attractive set against + the cold darkness. Brion almost wished he were back there now, as he sat shivering + inside the heavy coat. He wondered how long it would be before his confused + body-temperature controls decided to turn off the summer adjustment.</p> + + <p>Delicate as a dream, Lea's reflection swam in space next to the planet. She had come + up quietly behind him in the spaceship's corridor, only her gentle breath and mirrored + face telling him she was there. He turned quickly and took her hands in his.</p> + + <p>"You're looking better," he said.</p> + + <p>"Well I should," she said, pushing her hair in an unconscious gesture with the back + of her hand. "I've been doing nothing but lie in the ship's hospital, while you were + having such a fine time this last week. Rushing around down there shooting all the + magter."</p> + + <p>"Just gassing them," he told her. "The Nyjorders can't bring themselves to kill any + more, even if it does raise their own casualty rate. In fact they are having difficulty + restraining the Disans led by Ulv, who are happily killing any magter they see as being + pure <i>umedvirk</i>."</p> + + <p>"What will they do when they have all those frothing magter madmen?"</p> + + <p>"They don't know yet," he said. "They won't really know until they see <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>what an adult magter is + like with his brain-parasite dead and gone. They're having better luck with the + children. If they catch them early enough, the parasite can be destroyed before it has + done too much damage."</p> + + <p>Lea shuddered delicately.</p> + + <p>"I hate to think of a magter deprived of his symbiote," she said. "If his system can + stand the shock, I imagine there will be nothing left except a brainless hulk. This is + one series of experiments I don't care to witness. I rest secure in the knowledge that + the Nyjorders will find the most humane solution."</p> + + <p>"I'm sure they will," Brion said.</p> + + <p>"Now what about us," she said disconcertingly.</p> + + <p>This jarred Brion. He didn't have her ability to put past horrors out of the mind by + substituting present pleasures. "Well, what about us?" he said with masterful + inappropriateness.</p> + + <p>She smiled and leaned against him. "You weren't as vague as that, the night in the + hospital room. I seem to remember a few other things you said. You can't claim you're + completely indifferent to me, Brion Brandd. So I'm only asking you what any outspoken + Anvharian girl would. Where do we go from here? Get married?"</p> + + <p>There was a definite pleasure in holding her slight body in his arms and feeling her + hair against his cheek. They both sensed it, and this awareness made his words sound + that much more ugly.</p> + + <p>"Lea ... darling! You know how important you are to me—but you certainly + realize that we could never get married."</p> + + <p>Her body stiffened and she tore herself away from him.</p> + + <p>"Why you great, fat, egotistical slab of meat," she screamed. "What do you mean by + that? I like you Lea, we have plenty of fun and games together, but surely you realize + that you aren't the kind of girl one takes home to mother!"</p> + + <p>"Lea, hold on," he said. "You know better than to say a thing like that. What I said + has nothing to do with how I feel towards you. But marriage means children, and you are + biologist enough to know about Earth's genes—"</p> + + <p>"Intolerant yokel!" she cried, slapping his face. He didn't move or attempt to stop + her. "I expected better from you, with all your pretensions of understanding. But all + you can think of are the horror stories about the worn out genes of Earth. You're the + same as every other big, strapping bigot from the frontier planets. I know how you look + down on our small size, our allergies and hemophilia and all the other weaknesses that + have been bred back and preserved by the race. You hate—"</p> + + <p>"But that's not what I meant at all," he interrupted, shocked, his voice drowning + hers out. "Yours are the strong genes, the viable strains—<i>mine</i> are the + deadly ones. A child of mine would kill itself and you in a natural birth, if it + managed to live to term. You're forgetting that you are the original Homo sapiens. I'm + a recent mutation."</p> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + + <p>Lea was frozen by his words. They revealed a truth she had known, but would never + permit herself to consider.</p> + + <p>"Earth is home, the planet where mankind developed," he said. "The last few thousand + years you may have been breeding weaknesses back into the genetic pool. But that's + nothing compared to the hundred millions of years that it took to develop man. How many + newborn babies live to be a year of age on Earth?"</p> + + <p>"Why ... almost all of them."</p> + + <p>"Earth is home," he said gently. "When men leave home they can adapt to different + planets, but a price must be paid. A terrible price in dead infants. The successful + mutations live, the failures die. Natural selection is a brutally simple affair. When + you look at me you see a success. I have a sister—a success too. Yet my mother + had six other children who died when they were still babies. And at least fifteen + others that never came to term. You know these things, don't you Lea?"</p> + + <p>"I know, I know...." she said sobbing into her hands. He held her now and she didn't + pull away. "I know it all as a biologist—but I am so awfully tired of being a + biologist, and top of my class and a mental match for any man. But when I think about + you, I do it as a woman, and can't admit any of this. I need someone Brion, and I + needed you so much because I loved you." She sniffed and pushed at her eyes. "You're + going home, aren't you? Back to Anvhar. When?"</p> + + <p>"I can't wait too long," he said, unhappily. "Aside from my personal wants I find + myself remembering that I'm a part of Anvhar. When you think of the number of people + who suffered and died—or adapted—so that I could be sitting here now. Well, + it's a little frightening. I suppose it doesn't make sense logically that I should feel + indebted to them. But I do. Whatever I do now, or in the next few years, won't be as + important as getting back to Anvhar."</p> + + <p>"And I won't be going back with you." It was a flat statement the way she said it, + not a question.</p> + + <p>"No, you won't be," he said.</p> + + <p>Lea was looking out of the port at Dis and her eyes were dry now. "Way back in my + deeply buried unconscious I think I knew it would end this way," she said. "If you + think your little lecture on the Origins of Man was a novelty, it wasn't. Just reminded + me of a number of things my glands had convinced me to forget. In a way I envy you your + weightlifter wife-to-be, and your happy kiddies. But not very much. Very early in life + I resigned myself to the fact that there was no one on Earth I would care to marry. I + always had these teen-age dreams of a hero from space who would carry me off, and I + guess I slipped you into the pattern without realizing it."</p> + <hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <p>"Don't we look happy," Hys said, shambling towards them.</p> + + <p>"Fall dead and make me even happier then," Lea snapped bitterly.</p> + + <p>Hys ignored the acid tone of her answer and sat down on the couch <span class= + 'pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>next to them. Since + leaving command of his rebel Nyjord Army he seemed much mellower. "Going to keep on + working for the Cultural Relationships Foundation, Brion?" he asked. "You're the kind + of man we need."</p> + + <p>Brion's eyes widened as the meaning of the last words penetrated. "Are you in the + C.R.F.?"</p> + + <p>"Field agent for Nyjord," he said. "I hope you don't think those helpless office + types like Faussel <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'of'">or</ins> Mervv really represented us there? They just took notes and acted + as a front and cover for the organization. Nyjord is a fine planet, but a gentle + guiding hand behind the scenes is needed, to help them find their place in the galaxy + before they are pulverized."</p> + + <p>"What's your dirty game, Hys?" Lea asked, scowling. "I've had enough hints to + suspect for a long time that there was more to the C.R.F. than the + sweetness-and-light-part I have seen. Are you people egomaniacs, power hungry or + what?"</p> + + <p>"That's the first charge that would be leveled at us, if our activities were + publicly known," Hys told her. "That's why we do most of our work under cover. The best + fact I can give you to counter the charge is <i>money</i>. Just where do you think we + get the funds for an operation this size?" He smiled at their blank looks. "You'll see + the records later so there won't be any doubt. The truth is that all our funds are + donated by planets we have helped. Even a tiny percentage of a planetary income is + large—add enough of them together and you have enough money to help other + planets. And voluntary gratitude is a perfect test, if you stop to think about it. You + can't talk people into liking what you have done. They have to be convinced. There have + always been people on C.R.F. worlds who knew about our work, and agreed with it enough + to see that we are kept in funds."</p> + + <p>"Why are you telling me all this super-secret stuff," Lea asked.</p> + + <p>"Isn't that obvious? We want you to keep on working for us. You can name whatever + salary you like, as I've said there is no shortage of ready cash." Hys glanced quickly + at them both and delivered the clinching argument. "I hope Brion will go on working + with us, too. He is the kind of field agent we desperately need, and it is almost + impossible to find."</p> + + <p>"Just show me where to sign," she said, and there was life in her voice once + again.</p> + + <p>"I wouldn't exactly call it blackmail," Brion smiled, "yet I suppose if you people + can juggle planetary psychologies, you must find that individuals can be pushed around + like chess men. Though you should realize that very little pushing is required this + time."</p> + + <p>"Will you sign on?" Hys asked.</p> + + <p>"I must go back to Anvhar," Brion said, "but there really is no pressing hurry."</p> + + <p>"Earth," said Lea, "is overpopulated enough as it is."</p> + + <p><small>THE END</small></p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense of Obligation, by +Henry Maxwell Dempsey (AKA Harry Harrison) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE OF OBLIGATION *** + +***** This file should be named 35204-h.htm or 35204-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/2/0/35204/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Adam Styles and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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. 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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: Sense of Obligation + +Author: Henry Maxwell Dempsey (AKA Harry Harrison) + +Release Date: February 7, 2011 [EBook #35204] +[Last updated: May 26, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE OF OBLIGATION *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Adam Styles and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction September, +October, November 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence +that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Page numbers +jump between issues since they reflect the original magazine pages as +can be seen in the detailed notes at the end of this text. Minor +typographic errors have been corrected. + + + + + SENSE + OF OBLIGATION + + By HARRY HARRISON + + _It took a very special type of man for the job--and the job was + onerous, dangerous, and the only really probable reward was + disaster. But when a man who says he knows it's going to kill him + asks you to join...._ + + Illustrated by von Dongen + + [Illustration] + + + + +I + + + _A man said to the universe: + "Sir, I exist!" + "However," replied the universe, + "The fact has not created in me + A sense of obligation."_ + + Stephen Crane + + +Sweat covered Brion's body, trickling into the tight loincloth that was +the only garment he wore. The light fencing foil in his hand felt as +heavy as a bar of lead to his exhausted muscles, worn out by a month of +continual exercise. These things were of no importance. The cut on his +chest, still dripping blood, the ache of his overstrained eyes--even the +soaring arena around him with the thousands of spectators--were +trivialities not worth thinking about. There was only one thing in his +universe: the button-tipped length of shining steel that hovered before +him, engaging his own weapon. He felt the quiver and scrape of its life, +knew when it moved and moved himself to counteract it. And when he +attacked, it was always there to beat him aside. + +A sudden motion. He reacted--but his blade just met air. His instant of +panic was followed by a small sharp blow high on his chest. + +"_Touch!_" A world-shaking voice bellowed the word to a million waiting +loud-speakers, and the applause of the audience echoed back in a wave of +sound. + +"One minute," a voice said, and the time buzzer sounded. + +Brion had carefully conditioned the reflex in himself. A minute is not +a very large measure of time and his body needed every fraction of it. +The buzzer's whirr triggered his muscles into complete relaxation. Only +his heart and lungs worked on at a strong, measured rate. His eyes +closed and he was only distantly aware of his handlers catching him as +he fell, carrying him to his bench. While they massaged his limp body +and cleansed the wound, all of his attention was turned inward. He was +in reverie, sliding along the borders of consciousness. The nagging +memory of the previous night loomed up then, and he turned it over and +over in his mind, examining it from all sides. + +It was the very unexpectedness of the event that had been so unusual. +The contestants in the Twenties needed undisturbed rest, therefore +nights in the dormitories were quiet as death. During the first few +days, of course, the rule wasn't observed too closely. The men +themselves were too keyed up and excited to rest easily. But as soon as +the scores begin to mount and eliminations cut into their ranks, there +is complete silence after dark. Particularly so on this last night, when +only two of the little cubicles were occupied, the thousands of others +standing with dark, empty doors. + +Angry words had dragged Brion from a deep and exhausted sleep. The words +were whispered but clear, two voices, just outside the thin metal of his +door. Someone spoke his name. + +"... Brion Brandd. Of course not. Whoever said you could was making a +big mistake and there is going to be trouble--" + +"Don't talk like an idiot!" This other voice snapped with a harsh +urgency, clearly used to command. "I'm here because the matter is of +utmost importance, and Brandd is the one I must see. Now stand aside!" + +"The Twenties--" + +"I don't give a damn about your games, hearty cheers and physical +exercises. This is _important_ or I wouldn't be here!" + +The other didn't speak--he was surely one of the officials--and Brion +could sense his outraged anger. He must have drawn his gun, because the +other man said quickly, "Put that away. You're being a fool!" + +"Out!" was the single snarled word of the response. There was silence +then and, still wondering, Brion was once more asleep. + + * * * * * + +"Ten seconds." + +The voice chopped away Brion's memories and he let awareness seep back +into his body. He was unhappily conscious of his total exhaustion. The +month of continuous mental and physical combat had taken its toll. It +would be hard to stay on his feet, much less summon the strength and +skill to fight and win a touch. + +"How do we stand?" he asked the handler who was kneading his aching +muscles. + +"Four ... four. All you need is a touch to win!" + +"That's all he needs, too," Brion grunted, opening his eyes to look at +the wiry length of the man at the other end of the long mat. No one who +had reached the finals in the Twenties could possibly be a weak +opponent, but this one, Irolg, was the pick of the lot. A red-haired, +mountain of a man, with an apparently inexhaustible store of energy. +That was really all that counted now. There could be little art in this +last and final round of fencing. Just thrust and parry, and victory to +the stronger. + +Brion closed his eyes again and knew the moment he had been hoping to +avoid had arrived. + +Every man who entered the Twenties had his own training tricks. Brion +had a few individual ones that had helped him so far. He was a +moderately strong chess player, but he had moved to quick victory in the +chess rounds by playing incredibly unorthodox games. This was no +accident, but the result of years of work. He had a standing order with +offplanet agents for archaic chess books, the older the better. He had +memorized thousands of these ancient games and openings. This was +allowed. Anything was allowed that didn't involve drugs or machines. +Self-hypnosis was an accepted tool. + +It had taken Brion over two years to find a way to tap the sources of +hysterical strength. Common as the phenomenon seemed to be in the +textbooks, it proved impossible to duplicate. There appeared to be an +immediate association with the death-trauma, as if the two were +inextricably linked into one. Berserkers and juramentados continue to +fight and kill though carved by scores of mortal wounds. Men with +bullets in the heart or brain fight on, though already clinically dead. +Death seemed an inescapable part of this kind of strength. But there was +another type that could easily be brought about in any deep +trance--hypnotic rigidity. The strength that enables someone in a trance +to hold his body stiff and unsupported except at two points, the head +and heels. This is physically impossible when conscious. Working with +this as a clue, Brion had developed a self-hypnotic technique that +allowed him to tap these reservoirs of unknown strength. The source of +"second wind," the survival strength that made the difference between +life and death. + +It could also kill. Exhaust the body beyond hope of recovery, +particularly when in a weakened condition as his was now. But that +wasn't important. Others had died before during the Twenties, and death +during the last round was in some ways easier than defeat. + + * * * * * + +Breathing deeply, Brion softly spoke the auto-hypnotic phrases that +triggered the process. Fatigue fell softly from him, as did all +sensations of heat, cold and pain. He could feel with acute sensitivity, +hear, and see clearly when he opened his eyes. + +With each passing second the power drew at the basic reserves of life, +draining it from his body. + +When the buzzer sounded he pulled his foil from his second's startled +grasp, and ran forward. Irolg had barely time to grab up his own weapon +and parry Brion's first thrust. The force of his rush was so great that +the guards on their weapons locked, and their bodies crashed together. +Irolg looked amazed at the sudden fury of the attack--then smiled. He +thought it was a last burst of energy, he knew how close they both were +to exhaustion. This must be the end for Brion. + +They disengaged and Irolg put up a solid defense. He didn't attempt to +attack, just let Brion wear himself out against the firm shield of his +defense. + +Brion saw something close to panic on his opponent's face when the man +finally recognized his error. Brion wasn't tiring. If anything he was +pressing the attack. A wave of despair rolled out from Irolg--Brion +sensed it and knew the fifth point was his. + +Thrust--thrust--and each time the parrying sword a little slower to +return. Then the powerful twist that thrust it aside. In and under the +guard. The slap of the button on flesh and the arc of steel that reached +out and ended on Irolg's chest over his heart. + +Waves of sound--cheering and screaming--lapped against Brion's private +world, but he was only remotely aware of their existence. Irolg dropped +his foil, and tried to shake Brion's hand, but his legs suddenly gave +way. Brion had an arm around him, holding him up, walking towards the +rushing handlers. Then Irolg was gone and he waved off his own men, +walking slowly by himself. + +Except something was wrong and it was like walking through warm glue. +Walking on his knees. No, not walking, falling. At last. He was able to +let go and fall. + + + + +II + + +Ihjel gave the doctors exactly one day before he went to the hospital. +Brion wasn't dead, though there had been some doubt about that the night +before. Now, a full day later, he was on the mend and that was all Ihjel +wanted to know. He bullied and strong-armed his way to the new Winner's +room, meeting his first stiff resistance at the door. + +"You're out of order, Winner Ihjel," the doctor said. "And if you keep +on forcing yourself in here, where you are not wanted, rank or no rank I +shall be obliged to break your head." + +Ihjel had just begun to tell him, in some detail, just how slim his +chances were of accomplishing that, when Brion interrupted them both. He +recognized the newcomer's voice from the final night in the barracks. + +"Let him in, Dr. Caulry," he said. "I want to meet a man who thinks +there is something more important than the Twenties." + +While the doctor stood undecided, Ihjel moved quickly around him and +closed the door in his flushed face. He looked down at the Winner in the +bed. There was a drip plugged into each one of Brion's arms. His eyes +peered from sooty hollows; the eyeballs were a network of red veins. The +silent battle he fought against death had left its mark. His square, +jutting jaw now seemed all bone, as did his long nose and high +cheekbones. They were prominent landmarks rising from the limp grayness +of his skin. Only the erect bristle of his close-cropped hair was +unchanged. He had the appearance of having suffered a long and wasting +illness. + +"You look like sin," Ihjel said. "But congratulations on your victory." + +"You don't look so very good yourself--for a Winner," Brion snapped +back. His exhaustion and sudden peevish anger at this man let the +insulting words slip out. Ihjel ignored them. + +But it was true, Winner Ihjel looked very little like a Winner, or even +an Anvharian. He had the height and the frame all right, but it was +draped in billows of fat. Rounded, soft tissue that hung loosely from +his limbs and made little limp rolls on his neck and under his eyes. +There were no fat men on Anvhar and it was incredible that a man so +gross could ever have been a Winner. If there was muscle under the fat, +it couldn't be seen. Only his eyes appeared to still hold the strength +that had once bested every man on the planet to win the annual games. +Brion turned away from their burning stare, sorry now he had insulted +the man without good reason. He was too sick though to bother about +apologizing. + +Ihjel didn't care either. Brion looked at him again and felt the +impression of things so important that himself, his insults, even the +Twenties were of no more interest than dust motes in the air. It was +only a fantasy of sick mind, Brion knew, and he tried to shake the +feeling off. The two men stared at each other, sharing a common emotion. + +The door opened soundlessly behind Ihjel and he wheeled about, moving as +only an athlete of Anvhar can move. Dr. Caulry was halfway through the +door, off balance. Two more men in uniform came close behind him. +Ihjel's body pushed against them, his speed and the mountainous mass of +his flesh sending them back in a tangle of arms and legs. He slammed the +door and locked it in their faces. + + * * * * * + +"I have to talk to you," he said, turning back to Brion. "Privately," he +added, bending over and ripping out the communicator with a sweep of one +hand. + +"Get out," Brion told him. "If I were able--" + +"Well you're not, so you're just going to have to lie there and listen. +I imagine we have about five minutes before they decide to break the +door down, and I don't want to waste any more of that. Will you come +with me offworld? There's a job that must be done, it's my job but I'm +going to need help. You're the only one who can give me that help. + +"Now refuse," he added as Brion started to answer. + +"Of course I refuse," Brion said, feeling a little foolish and slightly +angry, as if the other man had put the words into his mouth. "Anvhar is +my planet--why should I leave? My life is here and so is my work. I also +might add that I have just won the Twenties, I have a responsibility to +remain." + +"Nonsense. I'm a Winner and I left. What you really mean is you would +like to enjoy a little of the ego-inflation you have worked so hard to +get. Off Anvhar no one even knows what a Winner is--much less respects +one. You have to face a big universe out there and I don't blame you for +being a little frightened." + +Someone was hammering loudly on the door. + +"I haven't the strength to get angry," Brion said hoarsely. "And I can't +bring myself to admire your ideas when they permit you to insult a man +too ill to defend himself." + +"I apologize," Ihjel said, with no hint of apology or sympathy in his +voice. "But there are more desperate issues involved other than your +hurt feelings. We don't have much time now, so I want to impress you +with an idea." + +"An idea that will convince me to go offplanet with you? That's +expecting a lot." + +"No, this idea won't convince you--but thinking about it will. If you +really _consider_ it you will find a lot of your illusions shattered. +Like everyone else on Anvhar you're a Scientific Humanist with your +faith firmly planted in the Twenties. You accept both of those noble +institutions without an instant's thought. All of you haven't a single +thought for the past, for the untold billions who led the bad life as +mankind slowly built up the good life for you to lead. Do you ever think +of all the people who suffered and died in misery and superstition while +civilization was clicking forward one more slow notch?" + +"Of course I don't think about them," Brion snapped back. "Why should I? +I can't change the past." + +"But you can change the future!" Ihjel said. "You owe something to the +suffering ancestors who got you where you are today. If Scientific +Humanism means anything more than plain words to you, you must possess a +sense of responsibility. Don't you want to try and pay off a bit of this +debt by helping others who are just as backward and disease ridden today +as great-grandfather Troglodyte ever was?" + +The hammering on the door was louder, this and the drug-induced buzzing +in Brion's ears made thinking difficult. "Abstractedly I, of course, +agree with you," he said haltingly. "But you know there is nothing I can +do personally without being emotionally involved. A logical decision is +valueless for action without personal meaning." + +"Then we have reached the crux of the matter," Ihjel said gently. His +back was braced against the door, absorbing the thudding blows of some +heavy object on the outside. "They're knocking, so I must be going +soon. I have no time for details, but I can assure you, upon my word of +honor as a Winner, that there is something you can do. Only you. If you +help me, we might save seven million human lives. That is a fact...." + +The lock burst and the door started to open. Ihjel shouldered it back +into the frame for a final instant. + +"... Here is the idea I want you to consider: Why is it that the people +of Anvhar in a galaxy filled with warring, hate-filled, backward +planets, should be the only ones who base their entire existence on a +complicated series of games?" + + + + +III + + +This time there was no way to hold the door. Ihjel didn't try. He +stepped aside and two men stumbled into the room. He walked out behind +their backs without saying a word. + +"What happened? What did he do?" the doctor asked, rushing in through +the ruined door. He swept a glance over the continuous recording dials +at the foot of Brion's bed. Respiration, temperature, heart, blood +pressure--all were normal. The patient lay quietly and didn't answer +him. + +For the rest of that day, Brion had much to think about. It was +difficult. The fatigue, mixed with the tranquilizers and other drugs had +softened his contact with reality. His thoughts kept echoing back and +forth in his mind, unable to escape. What had Ihjel meant? What was +that nonsense about Anvhar? Anvhar was that way because ... well it +just was. It had come about naturally. Or had it? The planet had a very +simple history. + +From the very beginning there had never been anything of real commercial +interest on Anvhar. Well off the interstellar trade routes, there were +no minerals worth digging and transporting the immense distances to the +nearest inhabited worlds. Hunting the winter beasts for their pelts was +a profitable but very minor enterprise, never sufficient for mass +markets. Therefore no organized attempt had ever been made to colonize +the planet. In the end it had been settled completely by chance. A +number of offplanet scientific groups had established observation and +research stations, finding unlimited data to observe and record during +Anvhar's unusual yearly cycle. The long-duration observations encouraged +the scientific workers to bring their families and, slowly but steadily, +small settlements grew up. Many of the fur hunters settled there as +well, adding to the small population. This had been the beginning. + +Few records existed of those early days, and the first six centuries of +Anvharian history were more speculation than fact. The Breakdown +occurred about that time and in the galaxy-wide disruption, Anvhar had +to fight its own internal battle. When the Earth Empire collapsed it was +the end of more than an era. Many of the observation stations found +themselves representing institutions that no longer existed. The +professional hunters no longer had markets for their furs, since Anvhar +possessed no interstellar ships of its own. There had been no real +physical hardship involved in the Breakdown, as it affected Anvhar, +since the planet was completely self sufficient. Once they had made the +mental adjustment to the fact that they were now a sovereign world, not +a collection of casual visitors with various loyalties, life continued +unchanged. Not easy--living on Anvhar is never easy--but at least +without difference on the surface. + +The thoughts and attitudes of the people were however going through a +great transformation. Many attempts were made to develop some form of +stable society and social relationship. Again little record exists of +these early trials, other than the fact of their culmination in the +Twenties. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +To understand the Twenties, you have to understand the unusual orbit +that Anvhar tracks around its sun, 70 Ophiuchi. There are other planets +in this system, all of them more or less conforming to the plane of the +ecliptic. Anvhar is obviously a rogue, perhaps a captured planet of +another sun. For the greatest part of its 780-day year it arcs far out +from its primary, in a high-angled sweeping cometary orbit. When it +returns there is a brief, hot summer of approximately eighty days before +the long winter sets in once more. This severe difference in seasonal +change has caused profound adaptations in the native life forms. During +the winter most of the animals hibernate, the vegetable life lying +dormant as spores or seeds. Some of the warm-blooded herbivores stay +active in the snow-covered tropics, preyed upon by fur-insulated +carnivores. Though unbelievably cold, the winter is a season of peace in +comparison to the summer. + +This is a time of mad growth. Plants burst into life with a strength +that cracks rocks, growing fast enough for the motion to be seen. The +snow fields melt into mud and within days a jungle stretches high into +the air. Everything grows, swells, proliferates. Plants climb on top of +plants, fighting for the life-energy of the sun. Everything is eat and +be eaten, grow and thrive in the short season. Because when the first +snow of winter falls again, ninety per cent of the year must pass until +the next coming of warmth. + +Mankind has had to adapt to the Anvharian cycle in order to stay alive. +Food must be gathered and stored, enough to last out the long winter. +Generation after generation had adapted until they look on the mad +seasonal imbalance as something quite ordinary. The first thaw of +almost-nonexistent spring triggers a wide reaching metabolic change in +the humans. Layers of subcutaneous fat vanish and half-dormant sweat +glands come to life. Other changes are more subtle than the temperature +adjustment, but equally important. The sleep center of the brain is +depressed. Short naps or a night's rest every third or fourth day become +enough. Life takes on a hectic and hysterical quality that is perfectly +suited to the environment. By the time of the first frost, rapid growing +crops have been raised and harvested, sides of meat either preserved or +frozen in mammoth lockers. With his supreme talent of adaptability +mankind has become part of the ecology and guaranteed his own survival +during the long winter. + +Physical survival has been guaranteed. But what about mental survival? +Primitive Earth Eskimos can fall into a long doze of half-conscious +hibernation. Civilized men might be able to do this, but only for the +few cold months of terrestrial mid-winter. It would be impossible to do +during a winter that is longer than an Earth year. With all the physical +needs taken care of, boredom became the enemy of any Anvharian who was +not a hunter. And even the hunters could not stay out on solitary trek +all winter. Drink was one answer and violence another. Alcoholism and +murder were the twin terrors of the cold season, after the Breakdown. + +It was the Twenties that ended all that. When they became a part of +normal life the summer was considered just an interlude between games. +The Twenties were more than just a contest--they became a way of life +that satisfied all the physical, competitive and intellectual needs of +this unusual planet. They were a decathlon--rather a doubled +decathlon--raised to its highest power, where contests in chess and +poetry composition held equal place with those in ski-jumping and +archery. Each year there were two planet-wide contests held, one for men +and one for women. This was not an attempt at sexual discrimination, but +a logical facing of facts. Inherent differences prevented fair +contests--for example, it is impossible for a woman to win a large chess +tournament--and this fact was recognized. Anyone could enter for any +number of years, there were no scoring handicaps. + +When the best man won he was really the best man. A complicated series +of playoffs and eliminations kept contestants and observers busy for +half the winter. They were only preliminary to the final encounter that +lasted a month, and picked a single winner. That was the title he was +awarded. Winner. The man--and woman--who had bested every other +contestant on the entire planet and who would remain unchallenged until +the following year. + + * * * * * + +Winner. It was a title to take pride in. Brion stirred weakly on his bed +and managed to turn so he could look out of the window. Winner of +Anvhar. His name was already slated for the history books, one of the +handful of planetary heroes. School children would be studying him now, +just as he had read of the Winners of the past. Weaving daydreams and +imaginary adventures around Brion's victories, hoping and fighting so +some day equal them. To be a Winner was the greatest honor in the +universe. + +Outside, the afternoon sun shimmered weakly in a dark sky. The endless +icefields soaked up the dim light, reflecting it back as a colder and +harsher illumination. A single figure on skis cut a line across the +empty plain; nothing else moved. The depression of the ultimate fatigue +fell on Brion and everything changed, as if he looked in a mirror at a +previously hidden side. + +He saw suddenly--with terrible clarity--that to be a Winner was to be +absolutely nothing. Like being the best flea, among all the fleas on a +single dog. + +What was Anvhar after all? An ice-locked planet, inhabited by a few +million human fleas, unknown and unconsidered by the rest of the galaxy. +There was nothing here worth fighting for, the wars after the Breakdown +had left them untouched. The Anvharian had always taken pride in +this--as if being so unimportant that no one else even wanted to come +near you, could possibly be a source of pride. All the worlds of man +grew, fought, won, lost, changed. Only on Anvhar did life repeat its +sameness endlessly, like a loop of tape in a player.... + +Brion's eyes were moist, he blinked. _Tears!!_ Realization of this +incredible fact wiped the maudlin pity from his mind and replaced it +with fear. Had his mind snapped in the strain of the last match? These +thoughts weren't his. Self-pity hadn't made him a Winner--why was he +feeling it now? Anvhar was his universe--how could he even imagine it +as a tag-end planet at the outer limb of creation? What had come over +him and induced this inverse thinking. + +As he thought the question, the answer appeared at the same instant. +Winner Ihjel. The fat man with the strange pronouncements and probing +questions. Had he cast a spell like some sorcerer--or the devil in +"Faust"? No, that was pure nonsense. But he had done something. Perhaps +planted a suggestion when Brion's resistance was low. Or used subliminal +vocalization like the villain in "Cerebrus Chained." Brion could find no +adequate reason on which to base his suspicions. But he knew that Ihjel +was responsible. + +He whistled at the sound-switch next to his pillow and the repaired +communicator came to life. The duty nurse appeared in the small screen. + +"The man who was here today," Brion said, "Winner Ihjel, do you know +where he is? I must contact him." + +For some reason this flustered her professional calm. The nurse started +to answer, excused herself, and blanked the screen. When it lit again a +man in Guard's uniform had taken her place. + +"You made an inquiry," the Guard said, "about Winner Ihjel. We are +holding him here in the hospital following the disgraceful way in which +he broke into your room." + +"I have no charges to make. Will you ask him to come and see me at +once?" + +The Guard controlled his shock. "I'm sorry, Winner--I don't see how we +can. Dr. Caulry left specific orders that you were not to be--" + +"The doctor has no control over my personal life," Brion snapped at him. +"I'm not infectious, or ill with anything more than extreme fatigue. I +want to see that man. At once." + +The Guard took a deep breath, and made a quick decision. "He is on the +way up now," he said, and rung off. + + * * * * * + +"What did you do to me?" Brion asked as soon as Ihjel had entered and +they were alone. "You won't deny that you have put alien thoughts in my +head?" + +"No, I won't deny it. Because the whole point of my being here is to get +those 'alien' thoughts across to you." + +"Tell me how you did it," Brion insisted. "I must know." + +"I'll tell you--but there are many things you should understand first, +before you decide to leave Anvhar. You must not only hear them, you will +have to believe them. The primary thing, the clue to the rest, is the +true nature of your life here. How do you think the Twenties +originated?" + +Brion carefully took a double dose of the mild stimulant he was allowed +before he answered. "I don't think," he said, "I know. It's a matter of +historical record. The founder of the games was Giroldi, the first +contest was held in 378 A.B. The Twenties have been held every year +since then. They were strictly local affairs in the beginning, but were +soon well established on a planet-wide scale." + +"True enough," Ihjel said, "but you're describing _what_ happened. I +asked you _how_ the Twenties originated. How could any single man take a +barbarian planet, lightly inhabited by half-mad hunters and alcoholic +farmers, and turn it into a smooth-running social machine built around +the artificial structure of the Twenties? It just can't be done." + +"But it was done!" Brion insisted. "You can't deny that. And there is +nothing artificial about the Twenties. They are a logical way to live a +life on a planet like this." + +Ihjel had to laugh, a short ironic bark. "Very logical," he said, "but +how often does logic have anything to do with the organization of social +groups and governments? You're not thinking. Put yourself in founder +Giroldi's place. Imagine that you have glimpsed the great idea of the +Twenties and you want to convince others. So you walk up to the nearest +louse-ridden, brawling, superstitious, booze-embalmed hunter and explain +clearly. How a program of his favorite sports--things like poetry, +archery and chess--can make his life that much more interesting and +virtuous. You do that. But keep your eyes open and be ready for a fast +draw." + +Even Brion had to smile at the absurdity of the suggestion. Of course it +couldn't happen that way. Yet, since it had happened, there must be a +simple explanation. + +"We can beat this back and forth all day," Ihjel told him, "and you +won't get the right idea unless--" He broke off suddenly, staring at the +communicator. The operation light had come on, though the screen stayed +dark. Ihjel reached down a meaty hand and pulled loose the recently +connected wires. "That doctor of yours is very curious--and he's going +to stay that way. The truth behind the Twenties is none of his business. +But it's going to be yours. You must come to realize that the life you +lead here is a complete and artificial construction, developed by +Societics experts and put into application by skilled field workers." + +"Nonsense!" Brion broke in. "Systems of society can't be dreamed up and +forced on people like that. Not without bloodshed and violence." + +"Nonsense, yourself," Ihjel told him. "That may have been true in the +dawn of history, but not any more. You have been reading too many of the +old Earth classics, you imagine that we still live in the Ages of +Superstition. Just because Fascism and Communism were once forced on +reluctant populations, you think this holds true for all time. Go back +to your books. In exactly the same era democracy and self-government +were adapted by former colonial states, like India and the Union of +North Africa, and the only violence was between local religious groups. +Change is the lifeblood of mankind. Everything we today accept as normal +was at one time an innovation. And one of the most recent innovations +is the attempt to guide the societies of mankind into something more +consistent with the personal happiness of individuals." + +"The God complex," Brion said, "forcing human lives into a mold whether +they want to be fitted into it or not." + +"Societics can be that," Ihjel agreed. "It was in the beginning, and +there were some disastrous results of attempts to force populations into +a political climate where they didn't belong. They weren't all +failures--Anvhar here is a striking example of how good the technique +can be when correctly applied. It's not done this way anymore, though. +Like all of the other sciences, we have found out that the more we know, +the more there is to know. We no longer attempt to guide cultures +towards what we consider a beneficial goal. There are too many goals, +and from our limited vantage point it is hard to tell the good ones from +the bad ones. All we do now is try to protect the growing cultures, give +a little jolt to the stagnating ones--and bury the dead ones. When the +work was first done here on Anvhar the theory hadn't progressed that +far. The understandably complex equations that determine just where in +the scale from a Type I to a Type V a culture is, had not yet been +completed. The technique then was to work out an artificial culture that +would be most beneficial for a planet, then bend it into the mold." + +"But how?" Brion asked. + +"We've made some progress--you're finally asking 'how'. The technique +here took a good number of agents, and a great deal of money. Personal +honor was emphasized in order to encourage dueling, this led to a +heightened interest in the technique of personal combat. When this was +well intrenched Giroldi was brought in, and he showed how organized +competitions could be more interesting than haphazard encounters. Tying +the intellectual aspects onto the framework of competitive sports was a +little more difficult, but not overwhelmingly so. The details aren't +important, all we are considering now is the end product. Which is you. +You're needed very much." + +"Why me?" Brion asked. "Why am I special? Because I won the Twenties? I +can't believe that. Taken objectively there isn't that much difference +between myself and the ten runners-up. Why don't you ask one of +them--they could do your job as well as I." + +"No they couldn't. I'll tell you later why you are the only man I can +use. Our time is running out and I must convince you of some other +things first." Ihjel glanced at his watch. "We have less than three +hours to dead-deadline. Before that time I must explain enough of our +work to you to enable you to decide voluntarily to join us." + +"A very tall order," Brion said. "You might begin by telling me just who +this mysterious 'we' is that you keep referring to." + +"The Cultural Relationships Foundation. A nongovernmental body, +privately endowed, existing to promote peace and ensure the sovereign +welfare of independent planets, so that all will prosper from the good +will and commerce thereby engendered." + +"Sounds like you're quoting," Brion told him. "No one could possibly +make up something that sounds like that on the spur of the moment." + +"I was quoting from our charter of organization. Which is all very fine +in a general sense, but I'm talking specifically now. About you. You are +the product of a tightly knit and very advanced society. Your +individuality has been encouraged by your growing up in a society so +small in population that only a mild form of government control is +necessary. The normal Anvharian education is an excellent one, and +participation in the Twenties has given you a general and advanced +education second to none in the galaxy. It would be a complete waste of +your entire life if you now took all this training and wasted it on some +rustic farm." + +"You give me very little credit. I plan to teach--" + +"Forget Anvhar!" Ihjel cut him off with a chop of his hand. "This world +will roll on quite successfully whether you are here or not. You must +forget it, think of its relative unimportance on a galactic scale, and +consider instead the existing, suffering, hordes of mankind. You must +think what you can do to help them." + +"But what can I do--as an individual? The day is long past when a +single man, like Caesar or Alexander, could bring about world-shaking +changes." + +"True--but not true," Ihjel said. "There are key men in every conflict +of forces, men who act like catalysts applied at the right instant to +start a chemical reaction. You might be one of those men, but I must be +honest and say that I can't prove it yet. So in order to save time and +endless discussion, I think I will have to spark your personal sense of +obligation." + +"Obligation to whom?" + +"To mankind of course, to the countless billions of dead who kept the +whole machine rolling along that allows you the full, long and happy +life you enjoy today. What they gave to you, you must pass on to others. +This is the keystone of humanistic morals." + +"Agreed. And a very good argument in the long run. But not one that is +going to tempt me out of this bed within the next three hours." + + * * * * * + +"A point of success," Ihjel said. "You agree with the general argument. +Now I apply it specifically to you. Here is the statement I intend to +prove. There exists a planet with a population of seven million people. +Unless I can prevent it, this planet will be completely destroyed. It is +my job to stop that destruction, so that is where I am going now. I +won't be able to do the job alone. In addition to others I need you. Not +anyone like you--but you and you alone." + +[Illustration] + +"You have precious little time left to convince me of all that," Brion +told him, "so let me make the job easier for you. The work you do, this +planet, the imminent danger of the people there--these are all facts +that you can undoubtedly supply. I'll take a chance that this whole +thing is not a colossal bluff and admit that given time, you could +verify them all. This brings the argument back to me again. How can you +possibly prove that I am the only person in the galaxy who can help +you?" + +"I can prove it by your singular ability, the thing I came here to +find." + +"What ability? I am different in no way from the other men on my +planet." + +"You're wrong," Ihjel said. "You are the embodied proof of evolution. +Rare individuals with specific talents occur constantly in any species, +man included. It has been two generations since an empathetic was last +born on Anvhar and I have been watching carefully most of that time." + +"What in blazes is an empathetic--and how do you recognize it when you +have found it?" Brion chuckled, this talk was getting preposterous. + +"I can recognize one because I'm one myself--there is no other way. As +to how projective empathy works, you had a demonstration of that a +little earlier, when you felt those strange thoughts about Anvhar. It +will be a long time before you can master that, but receptive empathy is +your natural trait. This is mentally entering into the feeling, or what +could be called the spirit of another person. Empathy is not thought +perception, it might better be described as the sensing of someone +else's emotional makeup, feelings and attitudes. You can't lie to a +trained empathetic because he can sense the real attitude behind the +verbal lies. Even your undeveloped talent has proved immensely useful in +the Twenties. You can outguess your opponent because you know his +movements even as his body tenses to make them. You accept this without +ever questioning it." + +"How do you know--?" This was Brion's understood, but never voiced +secret. + +Ihjel smiled. "Just guessing. But I won the Twenties too, remember, also +without knowing a thing about empathy at the time. On top of our normal +training, it's a wonderful trait to have. Which brings me to the proof +we mentioned a minute ago. When you said you would be convinced if I +could prove you were the only person who could help me. I _believe_ you +are--and that is one thing I cannot lie about. It's possible to lie +about a belief verbally, to have a falsely based belief, or to change a +belief. But you can't lie about it to yourself." + +"Equally important--you can't lie about a belief to an empathetic. Would +you like to see how I feel about this? 'See' is a bad word--there is no +vocabulary for this kind of thing yet. Better, would you join me in my +feelings? Sense my attitudes, memories and emotions just as I do?" + +Brion tried to protest, but he was too late. The doors of his senses +were pushed wide and he was overwhelmed. + +"Dis ..." Ihjel said aloud. "Seven million people ... hydrogen bombs ... +Brion Brandd." These were just key words, land marks of association. +With each one Brion felt the rushing wave of the other man's emotions. + +There could be no lies here, Ihjel was right in that. This was the raw +stuff that feelings are made of, the basic reactions to the things and +symbols of memory. + +DIS ... DIS ... DIS ... it was a word it was a planet and the word +thundered like a drum a drum the sound of its thunder surrounded and was + + a wasteland a planet + of death a planet where + living was dying and + dying was very + better than + living + crude barbaric + backward miserable + dirty beneath + consideration + planet + #DIS# + hot burning scorching + wasteland of sands + and sands and sands and + sands that burned had burned + will burn forever + + the people of this planet so + crude dirty miserable barbaric + subhuman in-human less-than-human + but + they + were + going + to + be + DEAD + and DEAD they would be seven million + blackened corpses that + would blacken your dreams + all dreams dreams + forever because those + HYDROGEN BOMBS + were waiting + to kill + them unless ... unless ... unless ... + you Ihjel stopped it you Ihjel + (DEATH) ... you (DEATH) ... + you (DEATH) alone couldn't do + it you (DEATH) + must have + +BRION BRANDD wet-behind-the-ears-raw-untrained-Brion-Brand-to help-you +he was the only one in the galaxy who could finish the job.... + +As the flow of sensation died away, Brion realized he was sprawled back +weakly on his pillows, soaked with sweat, washed with the memory of the +raw emotion. Across from him Ihjel sat with his face bowed into his +hands. When he lifted his head Brion saw within his eyes a shadow of the +blackness he had just experienced. + +"Death," Brion said. "That terrible feeling of death. It wasn't just the +people of Dis who would die. It was something more personal." + +"Myself," Ihjel said, and behind this simple word were the repeated +echoes of night that Brion had been made aware of with his newly +recognized ability. "My own death, not too far away. This is the +wonderfully terrible price you must pay for your talent. _Angst_ is an +inescapable part of empathy. It is a part of the whole unknown field of +psi phenomena that seems to be independent of time. Death is so +traumatic and final that it reverberates back along the time line. The +closer I get, the more aware of it I am. There is no exact feeling of +date, just a rough location in time. That is the horror of it. I _know_ +I will die soon after I get to Dis--and long before the work there is +finished. I know the job to be done there, and I know the men who have +already failed at it. I also know you are the only person who can +possibly complete the work I have started. Do you agree now? Will you +come with me?" + +"Yes, of course," Brion said. "I'll go with you." + + + + +IV + + +"I've never seen anyone quite as angry as that doctor," Brion said. + +"Can't blame him," Ihjel shifted his immense weight and grunted from the +console, where he was having a coded conversation with the ship's brain. +He hit the keys quickly, and read the answer from the screen. "You took +away his medical moment of glory. How many times in his life will he +have a chance to nurse back to rugged smiling health the triumphantly +exhausted Winner of the Twenties?" + +"Not many, I imagine. The wonder of it is how you managed to convince +him that you and the ship here could take care of me as well as his +hospital." + +"I could never convince him of that," Ihjel said. "But I and the +Cultural Relationships Foundation have some powerful friends on Anvhar. +I'm forced to admit I brought a little pressure to bear." He leaned back +and read the course tape as it streamed out of the printer. "We have a +little time to spare, but I would rather spend it waiting at the other +end. We'll blast as soon as I have you tied down in a stasis field." + +The completeness of the stasis field leaves no impression on the body or +mind. In it there is no weight, no pressure, no pain--no sensation of +any kind. Except for a stasis of very long duration, there is no +sensation of time. To Brion's consciousness, Ihjel flipped the switch +off with a continuation of the same motion that had turned it on. The +ship was unchanged, only outside of the port was the red-shot blankness +of jump space. + +"How do you feel?" Ihjel asked. + +Apparently the ship was wondering the same thing. Its detector unit, +hovering impatiently just outside of Brion's stasis field, darted down +and settled on his forearm. The doctor back on Anvhar had given the +medical section of the ship's brain a complete briefing. A quick check +of a dozen factors of Brion's metabolism was compared to the expected +norm. Apparently everything was going well, because the only reaction +was the expected injection of vitamins and glucose. + +"Can't say I'm feeling wonderful yet," Brion answered, levering himself +higher on the pillows. "But every day it's a bit better, steady +progress." + +"I hope so, because we have about two weeks before we get to Dis. Think +you'll be back in shape by that time?" + +"No promises," Brion said, giving a tentative squeeze to one bicep. "It +should be enough time, though. Tomorrow I start mild exercise and that +will tighten me up again. Now--tell me more about Dis and what you have +to do there." + +"I'm not going to do it twice, so just save your curiosity a while. +We're heading for a rendezvous-point now to pick up another operator. +This is going to be a three-man team, you, me and an exobiologist. As +soon as he is aboard I'll do a complete briefing for you both at the +same time. What you can do now is get your head into the language box +and start working on your Disan. You'll want to speak it perfectly by +the time we touch down." + + * * * * * + +With an autohypno for complete recall, Brion had no difficulty in +mastering the grammar and vocabulary of Disan. Pronunciation was a +different matter altogether. Almost all the word endings were swallowed, +muffled or gargled. The language was rich in glottal stops, clicks and +guttural strangling sounds. Ihjel stayed in a different part of the +ship, when Brion used the voice mirror and analysis scope, claiming that +the awful noises interfered with his digestion. + +Their ship angled through jump-space along its calculated course. It +kept its fragile human cargo warm, fed them and supplied breathable air. +It had orders to worry about Brion's health, so it did, checking +constantly against its recorded instructions and noting his steady +progress. Another part of the ship's brain counted microseconds with +moronic fixation, finally closing a relay when a predetermined number +had expired in its heart. A light flashed and a buzzer hummed gently but +insistently. + +Ihjel yawned, put away the report he had been reading, and started for +the control room. He shuddered when he passed the room where Brion was +listening to a playback of his Disan efforts. + +"Turn off that dying brontosaurus and get strapped in," he called +through the thin door. "We're coming to the point of optimum possibility +and we'll be dropping back into normal space soon." + +The human mind can ponder the incredible distances between the stars, +but cannot possibly contain within itself a real understanding of them. +Marked out on a man's hand an inch is a large unit of measure. In +interstellar space a cubical area with sides a hundred-thousand miles +long is a microscopically fine division. Light crosses this distance in +a fraction of a second. To a ship moving with a relative speed far +greater than that of light, this measuring unit is even smaller. +Theoretically it appears impossible to find a particular area of this +size. Technologically it was a repeatable miracle that occurred too +often to even be interesting. + +Brion and Ihjel were strapped in when the jump-drive cut off abruptly, +lurching them back into normal space and time. They didn't unstrap, just +sat and looked at the dimly distant pattern of stars. A single sun, of +apparent fifth magnitude was their only neighbor in this lost corner of +the universe. They waited while the computer took enough star sights to +triangulate a position in three dimensions, muttering to itself +electronically while it did the countless calculations to find their +position. A warning bell chimed and the drive cut on and off so quickly +the two acts seemed simultaneous. This happened again, twice, before the +brain was satisfied it had made as good a fix as possible and flashed a +NAVIGATION POWER OFF light. Ihjel unstrapped, stretched and made them a +meal. + +Ihjel had computed their passage time with criminally precise +allowances. Less than ten hours after they arrived a powerful signal +blasted into their waiting receiver. They strapped in again as the +NAVIGATION POWER ON signal blinked insistently. + +A ship had paused in flight somewhere relatively near in the vast volume +of space. It had entered normal space just long enough to emit a signal +of radio query on an assigned wave length. Ihjel's ship had detected +this and instantly responded with a verifying signal. The passenger +spacer had accepted this assurance and gracefully laid a ten-foot metal +egg in space. As soon as this had cleared its jump field the parent ship +vanished towards its destination, light-years away. + +Ihjel's ship climbed up the signal it had received. This signal had been +recorded and examined minutely. Angle, strength and Doppler movement +were computed to find course and distance. A few minutes of flight were +enough to get within range of the far weaker transmitter in the +dropcapsule. Homing on this signal was so simple, a human pilot could +have done it himself. The shining sphere loomed up, then vanished out of +sight of the viewports as the ship rotated to bring the space lock into +line. Magnetic clamps cut in when they made contact. + +"Go down and let the bug-doctor in," Ihjel said. "I'll stay and monitor +the board in case of trouble." + +"What do I have to do?" + +"Get into a suit and open the outer lock. Most of the drop sphere is +made of inflatable metallic foil so don't bother to look for the +entrance. Just cut a hole in it with the oversize can opener you'll find +in the tool box. After Dr. Morees gets aboard jettison the thing. Only +get the radio and locator unit out first--it gets used again." + +The tool did look like a giant opener. Brion carefully felt the +resilient metal skin that covered the lock entrance, until he was sure +there was nothing on the other side. Then he jabbed the point through +and cut a ragged hole in the thin foil. Dr. Morees boiled out of the +sphere, knocking Brion aside. + +"What's the matter?" Brion asked. + +There was no radio on the other's suit, he couldn't answer. But he did +shake his fist angrily. The helmet ports were opaqued so there was no +way to tell what expression went with the gesture. Brion shrugged and +turned back to salvaging the equipment pack, pushing the punctured +balloon free and sealing the lock. When pressure was pumped back to +ship-normal he cracked his helmet and motioned the other to do the same. + +"You're a pack of dirty lying dogs!" Dr. Morees said when the helmet +came off. Brion was completely baffled. Dr. Lea Morees had long dark +hair, large eyes and a delicately shaped mouth now taut with anger. Dr. +Morees was a woman. + +"Are you the filthy swine responsible for this atrocity?" Lea asked +menacingly. + +"In the control room," Brion said quickly, knowing when cowardice was +much preferable to valor. "A man named Ihjel. There's a lot of him to +hate, you can have a good time doing it. I just joined up myself--" He +was talking to her back as she stormed from the room. Brion hurried +after her, not wanting to miss the first human spark of interest in the +trip to date. + +"Kidnaped! Lied to and forced against my will! There is no court in the +galaxy that won't give you the maximum sentence and I'll scream with +pleasure as they roll your fat body into solitary--" + +"They shouldn't have sent a woman," Ihjel said, completely ignoring her +words. "I asked for a highly-qualified exobiologist for a difficult +assignment. Someone young and tough enough to do field work under severe +conditions. So the recruiting office sends me the smallest female they +can find, one who'll melt in the first rain." + +"I will not!" Lea shouted. "Female resiliency is a well known fact and +I'm in far better condition than the average woman. Which has nothing to +do with what I'm telling you. I was hired for a job in the university on +Moller's World and signed a contract to that effect. Then this bully of +an agent tells me the contract has been changed, read sub paragraph +189-C or some such nonsense, and I'll be transshipping. He stuffed me +into that suffocation basketball without a by-your-leave and they threw +me overboard. If that is not a violation of personal privacy--" + +"Cut a new course, Brion," Ihjel broke in. "Find the nearest settled +planet and head us there. We have to drop this woman and find a man for +this job. We are going to what is undoubtedly the most interesting +planet an exobiologist ever conceived of, but we need a man who can take +orders and not faint when it gets too hot." + +Brion was lost. Ihjel had done all the navigating and Brion had no idea +how to begin a search like this. + +"Oh no you don't," Lea said. "You don't get rid of me that easily. I +placed first in my class and most of the five-hundred other students +were male. This is only a man's universe because the men say so. What is +the name of this garden planet where we are going?" + +"Dis. I'll give you a briefing as soon as I get this ship on course." He +turned to the controls and Lea slipped out of her suit and went into the +lavatory to comb her hair. Brion closed his mouth, aware suddenly it had +been open for a long time. "Is that what you call applied psychology?" +he asked. + +"Not really. She was going to go along with the job in the end--since +she did sign the contract even if she didn't read the fine print--but +not until she had exhausted her feelings. I just shortened the process +by switching her onto the male-superiority hate. Most women, who succeed +in normally masculine fields, have a reflexive antipathy there, they +have been hit on the head with it so much." He fed the course tape into +the console and scowled. "But there was a good chunk of truth in what I +said. I wanted a young, fit and highly qualified biologist from +recruiting. I never thought they would find a female one. And it's too +late to send her back now. Dis is no place for a woman." + +"Why?" Brion asked, as Lea appeared in the doorway. + +"Come inside, and I'll show you both," Ihjel said. + + + + +V + + +"Dis," Ihjel said, consulting a thick file. "Third planet out from its +primary, Epsilon Eridani. The fourth planet is Nyjord--remember that +because it is going to be very important. Dis is a place you need a good +reason to visit and no reason at all to leave. Too hot, too dry, the +temperature in the temperate zones rarely drops below a hundred +Fahrenheit. The planet is nothing but scorched rock and burning sand. +Most of the water is underground and normally inaccessible. The surface +water is all in the form of briny, chemically saturated swamps. +Undrinkable without extensive processing. All the facts and figures are +here in the folders and you can study them later. Right now I want you +just to get the idea that this planet is as loathsome and inhospitable +as they come. So are the people. This is a solido of a Disan." + +Lea gasped at the three-dimensional representation on the screen. Not at +the physical aspects of the man, as the biologist trained in the +specialty of alien life she had seen a lot stranger sights. It was the +man's pose, the expression on his face. Tensed to leap, his lips drawn +back to show all of his teeth. + +"He looks like he wanted to kill the photographer," she said. + +"He almost did--just after the picture was taken. Like all Disans he +has an overwhelming hatred and loathing of offworlders. Not without good +reason though. His planet was settled completely by chance during the +Breakdown. I'm not sure of the details, but the overall picture is +clear, since the story of their desertion forms the basis of all the +myths and animistic religions on Dis." + +"Apparently there were large scale mining operations carried on there +once, the world is rich enough in minerals and mining it is very +simple." But water came only from expensive extraction processes and I +imagine most of the food came from offworld. Which was good enough until +the settlement was forgotten, the way a lot of other planets were during +the Breakdown. All the records were destroyed in the fighting and the +ore carriers pressed into military service. Dis was on its own. What +happened to the people there is a tribute to the adaptation +possibilities of Homo sapiens. Individuals died, usually in enormous +pain, but the race lived. Changed a good deal, but still human. + +"As the water and food ran out and the extraction machinery broke down, +they must have made heroic efforts to survive. They didn't do it +mechanically, but by the time the last machine collapsed, enough people +were adjusted to the environment to keep the race going. Their +(Their? n. of transc.) descendants are still there, completely adapted +to the environment. Their body temperatures are around one hundred and +thirty degrees. They have specialized tissue in the gluteal area for +storing water. These are minor changes compared to the major ones they +have done in fitting themselves for this planet. + +"I'm not sure of the exact details, but the reports are very +enthusiastic about symbiotic relationships. They assure us that this is +the first time Homo sapiens has been an active part of either +commensalism or inquilinism other than in the role of host." + +"Wonderful!" Lea enthused. + +"Is it?" Ihjel scowled. "Perhaps from the abstract scientific point of +view. If you can keep notes, perhaps you might write a book about it +some time. But I'm not interested. I'm sure all these morphological +changes and disgusting intimacies will fascinate you, Dr. Morees. But +while you are counting blood types and admiring your thermometers, I +hope you will be able to devote a little time to a study of the Disans' +obnoxious personalities. We must either find out what makes these people +tick--or we are going to have to stand by and watch the whole lot blown +up!" + +"Going to do what?" Lea gasped. "Destroy them? Wipe out this fascinating +genetic pool? Why?" + +"Because they are so incredibly loathsome, that's why!" Ihjel said. +"These aboriginal hotheads have managed to lay their hands on some +primitive cobalt bombs. They want to light the fuse and drop these bombs +on Nyjord, the next planet. Nothing said or done can convince them +differently. They demand unconditional surrender or else. This is +impossible for a lot of reasons--most important because the Nyjorders +would like to keep their planet for their very own. They have tried +every kind of compromise but none of them work. The Disans are out to +commit racial suicide. A Nyjord fleet is now over Dis and the deadline +has almost expired for the surrender of the cobalt bombs. The Nyjord +ships carry enough H-bombs to turn the entire planet into an atomic +pile. That is what we must stop." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +Brion looked at the solido on the screen, trying to make some judgment +of the man. Bare, horny feet--a bulky, ragged length of cloth around the +waist was the only garment. What looked like a piece of green vine was +hooked over one shoulder. From a plaited belt were suspended a number +of odd devices made of hand-beaten metal, drilled stone and looped +leather. The only recognizable one was a thin knife of unusual design. +Loops of piping, flared bells, carved stones tied in senseless patterns +of thonging gave the rest of the collection a bizarre appearance. +Perhaps they had some religious significance. But the well-worn and +handled look of most of them gave Brion an uneasy sensation. If they +were used--what in the universe could they be used _for_? + +"I can't believe it," he finally concluded. "Except for the exotic +hardware, this lowbrow looks like he has sunk back into the stone age. I +don't see how his kind can be of any real threat to another planet." + +"The Nyjorders believe it, and that's good enough for me," Ihjel said. +"They are paying our Cultural Relationships Foundation a good sum to try +and prevent this war. Since they are our employers, we must do what they +ask." Brion ignored this large lie, since it was obviously designed as +an explanation for Lea. But he made an mental note to query Ihjel later +about the real situation. + +"Here are the tech reports." Ihjel dropped them on the table. "Dis has +some spacers as well as the cobalt bombs--though these are the real +threat. A tramp trader was picked up _leaving_ Dis. It had delivered a +jump-space launcher that can drop those bombs on Nyjord while anchored +to the bedrock of Dis. While essentially a peaceful and happy people the +Nyjorders were justifiably annoyed at this and convinced the tramp's +captain to give them some more information. It's all here. Boiled down +it gives a minimum deadline by which time the launcher can be set up and +start throwing bombs." + +"When is that deadline?" Lea asked. + +"In ten days. If the situation hasn't been changed drastically by then +the Nyjorders are going to wipe all life from the face of Dis. I assure +you they don't want to do it. But they will drop the bombs in order to +assure their own survival." + +"What am I supposed to do?" Lea asked, annoyedly flipping the pages of +the report. "I don't know a thing about nucleonics or jump-space. I'm an +exobiologist with a supplementary degree in anthropology. What help +could I possibly be?" + +Ihjel looked down at her, fondling his jaw, fingers sunk deep into the +rolls of flesh. "My faith in our recruiters is restored," he said. +"That's a combination that is probably rare--even on Earth. You're as +scrawny as an underfed chicken but young enough to survive if we keep a +close eye on you." He cut off Lea's angry protest with a raised hand. +"No more bickering. There isn't time. The Nyjorders must have lost over +thirty agents trying to find the bombs. Our Foundation has had six +people killed--including my late predecessor in charge of the project. +He was a good man, but I think he went at this problem the wrong way. I +think it is a cultural one, not a physical one." + +"Run it through again with the power turned up," Lea said frowning. "All +I hear is static." + +"It's the old problem of genesis. Like Newton and the falling apple, +Levy and the hysteresis in the warp field. Everything has a beginning. +If we can find out why these people are so hell-bent on suicide, we +might be able to change the reasons. Not that I intend to stop looking +for the bombs or the jump-space generator either. We are going to try +anything that will avert this planetary murder." + +"You're a lot brighter than you look," Lea said, rising and carefully +stacking the sheets of the report. "You can count on me for complete +co-operation. Now I'll study all this in bed if one of you overweight +gentlemen will show me to a room with a strong lock on the inside of the +door. Don't call me, I'll call you when I want breakfast." + + * * * * * + +Brion wasn't sure how much of her barbed speech was humor and how much +serious, so he said nothing. He showed her to an empty cabin--she did +lock the door--then looked for Ihjel. The Winner was in the galley +adding to his girth with an immense gelatin dessert that filled a +good-sized tureen. + +"Is she short for a native Terran?" Brion asked. "The top of her head is +below my chin." + +"That's the norm. Earth is a reservoir of tired genes. Weak backs, +vermiform appendixes, bad eyes. If they didn't have the universities and +the trained people we need, I would never use them." + +"Why did you lie to her about the Foundation?" + +"Because it's a secret--isn't that reason enough?" Ihjel rumbled +angrily, scraping the last dregs from the bowl. "Better eat something. +Build up the strength. The Foundation has to maintain its undercover +status if it is going to accomplish anything. If she returns to Earth +after this, it's better that she should know nothing of our real work. +If she joins up, there'll be time enough to tell her. But I doubt if she +will like the way we operate. Particularly since I plan to drop some +H-bombs on Dis myself--if we can't turn off the war." + +"I don't believe it!" + +"You heard me correctly. Don't bulge your eyes and look moronic. As a +last resort I'll drop the bombs myself, rather than let the Nyjorders do +it. That might save them." + +"Save them--they'd all be radiated and dead!" Brion's voice was raised +in anger. + +"Not the Disans. I want to save the Nyjorders. Stop clenching your fists +and sit down and have some of this cake. It's delicious. The Nyjorders +are all that counts here. They have a planet blessed by the laws of +chance. When Dis was cut off from outside contact the survivors turned +into a gang of swamp-crawling homicidals. It did the opposite for +Nyjord. You can survive there just by pulling fruit off a tree." + +"The population was small, educated, intelligent. Instead of sinking +into an eternal siesta they matured into a vitally different society. +Not mechanical--they weren't even using the wheel when they were +rediscovered. They became sort of cultural specialists, digging deep +into the philosophical aspects of interrelationship. The thing that +machine societies never have had time for. Of course this was ready made +for the Cultural Relationships Foundation, and we have been working +with them ever since. Not guiding so much as protecting them from any +blows that might destroy this growing idea. But we've fallen down on the +job." + +"Nonviolence is essential to those people--they have vitality without +needing destruction. But if they are forced to blow up Dis for their own +survival--against every one of their basic tenets--their philosophy +won't endure. Physically they'll live on. As just one more dog-eat-dog +planet with an A-bomb for any of the competition who drop behind." + +"Sounds like paradise now." + +"Don't be smug. It's just another world full of people with the same old +likes, dislikes and hatreds. But they are evolving a way of living +together, without violence, that may some day form the key to mankind's +survival. They are worth looking after. Now get below and study your +Disan and read the reports. Get it all pat before we land." + + + + +VI + + +"Identify yourself, please." The quiet words from the speaker in no way +appeared to coincide with the picture on the screen. The spacer that had +matched their orbit over Dis had recently been a freighter. A quick +conversion had tacked the hulking shape of a primary weapons turret on +top of her hull. The black disk of the immense muzzle pointing squarely +at them. Ihjel switched open the ship-to-ship communication channel. + +"This is Ihjel. Retinal pattern 490-Bj4-67--which is also the code that +is supposed to get me through your blockade. Do you want to check that +pattern?" + +"There will be no need, thank you. If you will turn on your recorder, I +have a message relayed to you from Prime-four." + +"Recording and out," Ihjel said "Damn! Trouble already and four days to +blowup. Prime-four is our headquarters on Dis. This ship carries a cover +cargo so we can land at the spaceport. This is probably a change of plan +and I don't like the smell of it." + +There was something behind Ihjel's grumbling this time, and without +conscious effort Brion could sense the chilling touch of the other man's +_angst_. Trouble was waiting for them on the planet below. When the +message was typed by the decoder Ihjel hovered over it, reading each +word as it appeared on the paper. He only snorted when it was finished +and went below to the galley. Brion pulled the message out of the +machine and read it. + + IHJEL IHJEL IHJEL SPACEPORT LANDING DANGER NIGHT LANDING PREFERABLE + CO-ORDINATES MAP 46 J92 MN75 REMOTE YOUR SHIP VION WILL MEET END END + END + +Dropping into the darkness was safe enough. It was done on instruments +and the Disans were thought to have no detection apparatus. The +altimeter dials spun backwards to zero and a soft vibration was the +only indication they had landed. All of the cabin lights were off +except for the fluorescent glow of the instruments. A white-speckled +gray filled the infrared screen, radiation from the still-warm sand and +stone. There were no moving blips on it, nor the characteristic shape of +a shielded atomic generator. + +"We're here first," Ihjel said, opaquing the ports and turning on the +cabin lights. They blinked at each other, faces damp with perspiration. + +"Must you have the ship this hot?" Lea asked, patting her forehead with +an already sodden kerchief. Stripped of her heavier clothing she looked +even tinier to Brion. But the thin cloth tunic--reaching barely halfway +to her knees--concealed very little. Small she may have appeared to +him--unfeminine she was not. In fact she was quite attractive. + +"Shall I turn around so you can stare at the back, too?" she asked +Brion. Five days' experience had taught him that this type of remark was +best ignored. It only became worse if he tried to answer. + +"Dis is hotter than this cabin," he said, changing the subject. "By +raising the interior temperature we can at least prevent any sudden +shock when we go out--" + +"I know the theory--but it doesn't stop me from sweating," she snapped. + +"Best thing you can do is sweat," Ihjel said. He looked like a +glistening captive balloon in shorts. Finishing a bottle of beer he took +another from the freezer. "Have a beer." + +"No thank you. I'm afraid it would dissolve the last shreds of tissue +and my kidneys would float completely away. On Earth we never--" + +"Get Professor Morees' luggage for her," Ihjel said. "Vion's coming, +there's his signal. I'm sending this ship up before any of the locals +spot it." + + * * * * * + +When he cracked the outer port the puff of air struck them like the +exhaust from a furnace. Dry and hot as a tongue of flame. Brion heard +Lea's gasp in the darkness. She stumbled down the ramp and he followed +her slowly, careful of the weight of packs and equipment he carried. The +sand burned through his boots, still hot from the day. Ihjel came last, +the remote-control unit in his hand. As soon as they were clear he +activated it and the ramp slipped back like a giant tongue. As soon as +the lock had swung shut the ship lifted and drifted upwards silently +towards its orbit, a shrinking darkness against the stars. + +There was just enough starlight to see the sandy wastes around them, as +wave-filled as a petrified sea. The dark shape of a sandcar drew up +over a dune and hummed to a stop. When the door opened Ihjel stepped +towards it and everything happened at once. + +Ihjel broke into a blue nimbus of crackling flame, his skin blackening, +charred, dead in an instant. A second pillar of flame bloomed next to +the car and a choking scream, cut off even as it began. Ihjel died +silently. + +Brion was diving even as the electrical discharges still crackled in the +air. The boxes and packs dropped from him and he slammed against Lea, +knocking her to the ground. He hoped she had the sense to stay there and +be quiet. This was his only conscious thought, the rest was reflex. +Rolling over and over as fast as he could. + +The spitting electrical flames flared again, playing over the bundles of +luggage he had dropped. This time Brion was expecting it, pressed flat +to the ground a short distance away. He was facing the darkness away +from the sandcar and saw the brief, blue glow of the ion-rifle +discharge. His own gun was in his hand. When Ihjel had given him the +missile weapon he had asked no questions, just strapped it on. There had +been no thought that he would need it this quickly. Holding it firmly +before him in both hands he let his body aim at the spot where the glow +had been. A whiplash of explosive slugs ripped the night air. They found +their target and something thrashed voicelessly and died. + +In the brief instant after he fired a jarring weight landed on his back +and a line of fire circled his throat. Normally he fought with a calm +mind, with no thoughts other than the contest. But Ihjel, a friend, a +man of Anvhar, had died a few seconds earlier and Brion found himself +welcoming this physical violence and pain. + +There are many foolish and dangerous things that can be done, such as +smoking next to high octane fuel and putting fingers into electrical +sockets. Just as dangerous, and equally deadly, is physically attacking +a Winner of the Twenties. + +Two men hit Brion together, though this made very little difference. The +first died suddenly as hands like steel claws found his neck and in a +single spasmodic contraction did such damage to the large blood vessels +there that they burst and tiny hemorrhages filled his brain. The second +man had time for a single scream, though he died just as swiftly when +those hands closed on his larynx. + +Running in a crouch, partially on his knuckles, Brion swiftly made a +circle of the area, gun ready. There were no others. Only when he +touched the softness of Lea's body did the blood anger seep from him. He +was suddenly aware of the pain and fatigue, the sweat soaking his body +and the breath rasping in his throat. Holstering the gun he ran light +fingers over her skull, finding a bruised spot on one temple. Her chest +was rising and falling regularly. She had struck her head when he pushed +her. It had undoubtedly saved her life. + +Sitting down suddenly he let his body relax, breathing deeply. +Everything was a little better now, except for the pain at his throat. +His fingers found a thin strand on the side of his neck with a knobby +weight on the end. There was another weight on his other shoulder and a +thin line of pain across his neck. When he pulled on them both the +strangler's cord came away in his hand. It was thin fiber, strong as a +wire. When it had been pulled around his neck it had sliced the surface +skin and flesh like a knife, halted only by the corded bands of muscle +below. Brion threw it from him, into the darkness where it had come +from. + +He could think again and he carefully kept his thoughts from the men he +had killed. Knowing it was useless he went to Ihjel's body. A single +touch of the scorched flesh was enough. + +Behind him Lea moaned with returning consciousness and he hurried on to +the sandcar, stepping over the charred body outside the door. The +driver was slumped, dead, killed perhaps by the same strangling cord +that had sunk into Brion's throat. He laid the man gently on the sand +and closed the lids over the staring horror of the eyes. There was a +canteen in the car and he brought it back to Lea. + + * * * * * + +"My head--I've hurt my head," Lea said groggily. + +"Just a bruise," he reassured her. "Drink some of this water and you'll +soon feel better. Lie back. Everything's over for the moment and you can +rest." + +"Ihjel's dead!" she said with sudden shocked memory. "They've killed +him! What's happened?" She tensed, tried to rise, and he pressed her +back gently. + +"I'll tell you everything. Just don't try to get up yet. There was an +ambush and they killed Vion and the driver of the sandcar, as well as +Ihjel. Three men did it and they're all dead now, too. I don't think +there are any more around, but if there are I'll hear them coming. We're +just going to wait a few minutes until you feel better then we're +getting out of here in the car." + +"Bring the ship down!" There was a thin edge of hysteria in her voice. +"We can't stay here alone. We don't know where to go or what to do. With +Ihjel dead the whole thing's spoiled. We have to get out--" + +There are some things that can't sound gentle, no matter how gently they +are said. This was one of them. "I'm sorry, Lea, but the ship is out of +our reach right now. Ihjel was killed with an ion gun and it fused the +control unit into a solid lump. We must take the car and get to the +city. We'll do it now. See if you can stand up--I'll help you." + +She rose, not saying anything, and as they walked towards the car a +single, reddish moon cleared the hills behind them. In its light Brion +saw a dark line bisecting the rear panel of the sandcar. He stopped +abruptly. "What's the matter?" Lea asked. + +The unlocked engine cover could have only one significance and he pushed +it open knowing in advance what he would see. The attackers had been +very thorough and fast. In the short time available to them they had +killed the driver and the car as well. Ruddy light shone on torn wires, +ripped out connections. Repair would be impossible. + +"I think we'll have to walk," he told her, trying to keep the gloom out +of his voice. "This spot is roughly a hundred and fifty meters from the +city of Hovedstad, where we have to go. We should be able to--" + +"We're going to die. We can't walk anywhere. This whole planet is a +death trap. Let's get back in the ship!" There was a thin shrillness of +hysteria at the edge of her voice, as well as a subtle slurring of the +sounds. + +Brion didn't try to reason with her or bother to explain. She had a +concussion from the blow, that much was obvious. He made her sit and +rest while he made what preparations he could for the long walk. + +Clothing first. With each passing minute the desert air was growing +colder as the day's heat ebbed away. Lea was beginning to shiver and he +took some heavier clothing from her charred bag and made her pull it on +over her light tunic. There was little else that was worth carrying. The +canteen from the car and a first-aid kit he found in one of the +compartments. There were no maps or radio. Navigation was obviously done +by compass on this almost-featureless desert. The car was equipped with +an electrically operated gyro-compass, of no possible use to him. He did +use it to check the direction to Hovedstad, as he remembered it from the +map, and found it lined up perfectly with the tracks the car had cut +into the sand. It had come directly from the city. They could find their +way by back-tracking. + +Time was slipping away. He would like to have buried Ihjel and the men +from the car, but the night hours were too valuable to be wasted. The +best he could do was put the three corpses in the car, for protection +from the Disan animals. Locking the door he threw the key as far as he +could in the blackness. Lea had slipped into a restless sleep and he +carefully shook her awake. + +"Come," Brion said, "we have a little walking to do." + + + + +VII + + +With the cool air and firmly packed sand under foot walking should have +been easy. Lea spoiled that. The concussion seemed to have temporarily +cut off the reasoning part of her brain leaving a direct connection to +her vocal cords. As she stumbled along, only half conscious, she mumbled +all of her darkest fears that were better left unvoiced. Occasionally +there was relevancy in her complaints. They would lose their way, never +find the city, die of thirst, freezing, heat or hunger. Interspersed and +entwined with these were fears from her past that still floated, +submerged in the timeless ocean of her subconscious. Some Brion could +understand, though he tried not to listen. Fears of losing credits, not +getting the highest grade, falling behind, a woman alone in a world of +men, leaving school, being lost, trampled among the nameless hordes that +struggled for survival in the crowded city-states of Earth. + +There were other things she was afraid of that made no sense to a man +of Anvhar. Who were the alkians that seemed to trouble her? Or what was +canceri? Daydle and haydle? Who was Mansean whose name kept coming up, +over and over, each time accompanied by a little moan? + +Brion stopped and picked her up in both arms. With a sigh she settled +against the hard width of his chest and was instantly asleep. Even with +the additional weight he made better time now, and he stretched to his +fastest, kilometer-consuming stride to make good use of these best +hours. + +Somewhere on a stretch of gravel and shelving rock he lost the track of +the sandcar. He wasted no time looking for it. By carefully watching +the glistening stars rise and set he had made a good estimate of the +geographic north. Dis didn't seem to have a pole star, however a boxlike +constellation turned slowly around the invisible point of the pole. +Keeping this positioned in line with his right shoulder guided him on +the westerly course he needed. + +When his arms began to grow tired he lowered Lea gently to the ground, +she didn't wake. Stretching for an instant, before taking up his burden +again, Brion was struck by the terrible loneliness of the desert. His +breath made a vanishing mist against the stars, all else was darkness +and silence. How distant he was from his home, his people, his planet. +Even the constellations of the night sky were different. He was used to +solitude, but this was a loneliness that touched some deep-buried +instinct. A shiver that wasn't from the desert cold touched lightly +along his spine, prickling at the hairs on his neck. + +It was time to go on. He shrugged the disquieting sensations off and +carefully tied Lea into the jacket he had been wearing. Slung like a +pack on his back it made walking easier. The gravel gave way to sliding +dunes of sand that seemed to continue to infinity. A painful, slipping +climb to the top of each one, then and equally difficult descent to the +black-pooled hollow at the foot of the next. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +With the first lightening of the sky in the east he stopped, breath +rasping in his chest, to mark his direction before the stars faded. One +line scratched in the sand pointed due north, a second pointed out the +course they should follow. When they were aligned to his satisfaction he +washed his mouth out with a single swallow of water and sat on the sand +next to the still form of the girl. + +Gold fingers of fire searched across the sky, wiping out the stars. It +was magnificent, Brion forgot his fatigue in appreciation. There should +be some way of preserving it. A quatrain would be best. Short enough to +be remembered, yet requiring attention and skill to compact everything +into it. He had scored high with his quatrains in the Twenties. This +would be a special one. Taind, his poetry mentor would have to get a +copy. + +"What are you mumbling about?" Lea asked, looking up at the craggy +blackness of his profile against the reddening sky. + +"Poem," he said. "_Shhh._ Just a minute." + +It was too much for Lea, coming after the tension and dangers of the +night. She began to laugh, laughing even harder when he scowled at her +angrily. Only when she heard the tinge of growing hysteria did she make +an attempt to break off the laughter. The sun cleared the horizon, +washing a sudden warmth over them. Lea gasped. + +"Your throat's been cut! You're bleeding to death!" + +"Not really," he said, touching his fingertips lightly against the +blood-clotted wound that circled his neck. "Just superficial." + +Depression sat on him as he suddenly remembered the battle and death of +the previous night. Lea didn't notice his face. She was busy digging in +the pack he had thrown down. He had to use his fingers to massage and +force away the grimace of pain that twisted his mouth. Memory was more +painful than the wound. How easily he had killed. Three men. How close +to the surface of the civilized man the animal dwelled. In the countless +matches he had used those holds, always drawing back from the exertion +of the full killing power. They were part of a game, part of the +Twenties. Yet when his friend had been killed he had become a killer +himself. He believed in nonviolence and the sanctity of life. Until the +first test when he had killed without hesitation. More ironic was the +fact he really felt no guilt. Shock at the change, yes. But no more than +that. + +"Lift your chin," Lea said, brandishing the antiseptic applier she had +found in the medicine kit. He lifted obligingly and the liquid drew a +cool, burning line across his neck. Antibio pills would do a lot more +good, since the wound was completely clotted by now, but he didn't speak +his thoughts aloud. For the moment Lea had forgotten herself in taking +care of him. He put some of the antiseptic on her scalp bruise and she +squeaked, pulling back. They both swallowed the pills. + +"That sun is hot already," Lea grumbled, peeling off her heavy clothing. +"Let's find a nice cool cave to crawl into for the day." + +"I don't think there are any here, just sand. We have to walk--" + +"I know we have to walk," she interrupted angrily. "There's no need for +a lecture about it. You're as seriously cubical as the Bank of Terra. +Relax. Take ten and start again." Lea was making empty talk while she +listened to the memory of hysteria tittering at the fringes of her +brain. + +"No time for that. We have to keep going." Brion climbed slowly to his +feet after stowing everything in the pack. When he sighted along his +marker at the western horizon he saw nothing to mark their course, only +the marching dunes. He helped Lea to her feet and began walking slowly +towards them. + +"Just hold on a second," Lea called after him. "Where do you think +you're going?" + +"In that direction," he said pointing. "I hoped there would be some +landmarks. There aren't. We'll have to keep on by dead reckoning. The +sun will keep us pretty well on course. If we aren't there by night, the +stars will be a better guide." + +"All this on an empty stomach? How about breakfast? I'm hungry--and +thirsty." + +"No food." He shook the canteen that gurgled emptily. It has been only +partly filled when he found it. "The water's low and we'll need it +later." + +"I need it now," she snapped. "My mouth tastes like an unemptied ashtray +and I'm dry as paper." + +"Just a single swallow," he said. "This is all we have." + +Lea sipped at it with her eyes closed in appreciation. He sealed the top +and returned it to the pack without taking any himself. They were +sweating as they started up the first dune. + +The desert was barren of life; they were the only things moving under +that merciless sun. Their shadows pointed the way ahead of them, and as +the shadows shortened the heat rose. It had an intensity Lea had never +experienced before, a physical weight that pushed at her with a searing +hand. Her clothing was sodden with perspiration, and it trickled burning +into her eyes. The light and heat made it hard to see and she leaned on +the immovable strength of Brion's arm. He walked on steadily, apparently +ignoring the heat and discomfort. + +"I wonder if those things are edible--or store water?" Brion's voice was +a harsh rasp. Lea blinked and squinted at the leathery shape on the +summit of the dune. Plant or animal, it was hard to tell. The size of a +man's head, wrinkled and gray as dried-out leather, knobbed with thick +spikes. Brion pushed it up with his toe and they had a brief glimpse of +a white roundness, like a shiny taproot, going down into the dune. Then +the thing contracted, pulling itself lower into the sand. At the same +instant something thin and sharp lashed out through a fold in the skin, +striking at Brion's boot and withdrawing. There was a scratch on the +hard plastic, beaded with drops of green liquid. + +"Probably poison," he said, digging his toe into the sand. "This thing +is too mean to fool with--without a good reason. Let's keep going." + + * * * * * + +It was before noon when Lea fell down. She really wanted to go on, but +her body wouldn't obey. The thin soles of her shoes were no protection +against the burning sand and her feet were lumps of raw pain. Heat +hammered down, poured up from the sand and swirled her in an oven of +pain. The air she gasped in was molten metal that dried and cracked her +mouth. Each pulse of her heart throbbed blood to the wound in her scalp +until it seemed her skull would burst with the agony. She had stripped +down to the short tunic--in spite of Brion's insistence that she keep +her body protected from the sun--and that clung to her, soaked with +sweat. She tore at it in a desperate effort to breathe. There was no +escape from the unending heat. + +Though the baked sand burned torture into her knees and hands she +couldn't rise. It took all her strength not to fall farther. Her eyes +closed and everything swirled in immense circles. + +Brion blinking through slitted eyes, saw her go down. He lifted and +carried her again as he had the night before. The hot touch of her body +shocked his bare arms. Her skin was flushed pink. Wiping his palm free +of sweat and sand he touched her skin and felt the ominous hot dryness. + +Heat-shock, all the symptoms. Dry, flushed skin, the ragged breathing. +Her temperature rising quickly as her body stopped fighting the heat and +succumbed. + +There was nothing he could do here to protect her from the heat. He +measured a tiny portion of the remaining water into her mouth and she +swallowed convulsively. The thinnest of the clothing protected her +slight body from the direct rays of the sun. After that he could only +take her in his arms and keep on toward the horizon. An outcropping of +rock there threw a tiny patch of shade and he walked toward it. + +The ground here, shielded from the direct rays of the sun, felt almost +cool by contrast. Lea opened her eyes when he put her down, peering up +at him through a haze of pain. She wanted to apologize to him for her +weakness, but no words came from the dried membrane of her throat. His +body above her seemed to swim back and forth in the heat waves, swaying +like a tree in a high wind. + +Shock drove her eyes open, cleared her mind for the instant. He really +was swaying. With sudden horror she realized how much she had come to +depend on the eternal solidity of his strength. Now it was failing. All +over his body the corded muscles contracted in ridges, striving to keep +him erect. She saw his mouth pulled open by the taut cords of his neck +and the gaping, silent scream was more terrible than any sound. Then she +screamed herself as his eyes rolled back, leaving just the empty white +of the eyeballs staring terribly at her. He went over, back down, like a +felled tree, thudding heavily on the sand. Unconscious or dead she +couldn't tell. She pulled limply at his leg, but couldn't drag his +immense weight into the shade. + +Brion lay on his back in the sun, sweating. Lea saw this and knew that +he was still alive. Yet what was happening? She groped for memory in the +red haze of her mind, but could remember nothing from her medical +studies that would explain this. On every square inch of his body the +sweat glands seethed with sudden activity. From every pore oozed great +globules of oily liquid, far thicker than normal perspiration. Brion's +arms rippled with motion and Lea stared, horrified as the hairs there +writhed and stirred as though endowed with separate life. His chest rose +and fell rapidly, deep, gasping breaths wracking his body. Lea could +only stare through the dim redness of unreality and wonder if she was +going mad before she died. + +A coughing fit broke the rhythm of his rasping breath, and when it was +over his breathing was easier. The perspiration still covered his body, +the individual beads touching and forming tiny streams that seeped down +his body and vanished in the sand. He stirred and rolled onto his side, +facing her. His eyes open and normal now as he smiled. + +"Didn't mean to frighten you. It caught me suddenly, coming at the wrong +season and everything. It was a bit of a jar to my system. I'll get you +some water now, there's still a bit left." + +"What happened? When you looked like that, when you fell--" + +"Take two swallows, no more," he said, holding the canteen to her mouth. +"Just summer change, that's all. Happens to us every year on +Anvhar--only not that violently, of course. In the winter our bodies +store a layer of fat under the skin for insulation and sweating almost +ceases completely. Lot of internal changes, too. When the weather warms +up the process is reversed. The fat is metabolized and the sweat glands +enlarge and begin working overtime as the body prepares for two months +of hard work, heat and little sleep. I guess the heat here triggered off +the summer change early." + +"You mean--you've adapted to this terrible planet?" + +"Just about. Though it does feel a little warm. I'll need a lot more +water soon, so we can't remain here. Do you think you can stand the sun +if I carry you?" + +"No, but I won't feel any better staying here." She was light-headed, +scarcely aware of what she said. "Keep going, I guess. Keep going." + +As soon as she was out of the shadow of the rock the sunlight burst over +her again in a wave of hot pain. She was unconscious at once. Her slight +weight was no burden to Brion and he made his best speed, heading toward +the spot on the horizon where the sun would set. Without water he knew +he could not last more than a day or two at best. + +When sunset came he was still walking steadily. Only when the air +chilled did he stop to dress them both in the warm clothes and push on. +Lea regained consciousness in the cool night air and finished the last +mouthfuls of water. She wanted to walk, but could only moan with pain +when her burned feet touched the ground. He put ointment on them and +wrapped them in cloth. They were too swollen to go back into the ragged +shoes. Lifting his burden he walked on into the night, following the +guiding stars. + + * * * * * + +Except for the nagging thirst, it was an easy night. He wouldn't need +sleep for two or three days more, so that didn't bother him. His muscles +had a plentiful supply of fuel at hand in the no longer wanted +subcutaneous fatty layer. Metabolizing it kept him warm. By running at a +ground-eating pace whenever the footing was smooth he made good time. By +dawn he was feeling a little tired and was at least ten kilos lighter +due to the loss of the burned up fat. + +There was no sight of the city yet. This was the last day. Massive as +the adaptation of his body was to the climate, it still needed water to +function. As his pores opened in the heat he knew the end was very +close. Weaving, stumbling, trying not to fall with the unconscious girl, +he climbed dune after unending dune. Before his tortured eyes the sun +expanded and throbbed like a gigantic beating heart. He struggled to the +top of the mountain of sand and looked at the Disan standing a few feet +away. + +They were both too surprised by the sudden encounter to react at once. +For a breath of time they stared at each other, unmoving. When they +reacted it was with the same defense of fear. Brion dropped the girl, +bringing the gun up from the holster in the return of the same motion. +The Disan jerked a belled tube from his waistband and raised it to his +mouth. + +Brion didn't fire. A dead man had taught him how to train his empathetic +sense, and to trust it. In spite of the fear that wanted him to jerk the +trigger, a different sense read the unvoiced emotions of the native +Disan. There was fear there, and hatred. Welling up around these was a +strong desire not to commit violence this time, to communicate instead. +Brion felt and recognized all this in a small part of a second. He had +to act instantly to avoid a tragic accident. A jerk of his wrist threw +the gun to one side. + +As soon as it was gone, he regretted his loss. He was gambling their +lives on an ability he still was not sure of. The Disan had the tube to +his mouth when the gun hit the ground. He held the pose, unmoving, +thinking. Then he accepted Brion's action and thrust the tube back into +his waistband. + +"Do you have any water?" Brion asked, the guttural Disan words hurting +his throat. + +"I have water," the man said. He still didn't move. "Who are you?" + +"We're from offplanet. We had ... an accident. We want to go to the +city. The water." + +The Disan looked at the unconscious girl and made his decision. Over one +shoulder he wore one of the green objects that Brion remembered from the +solido. He pulled it off and the thing writhed slowly in his hands. It +was alive. A green length a meter long, like a noduled section of a +thick vine. One end flared out into a petallike formation. The Disan +took a hook-shaped object from his waist and thrust it into the petaled +orifice. When he turned the hook in a quick motion the length of green +writhed and curled around his arm. He pulled something small and dark +out and threw it to the ground, extending the twisting green shape +towards Brion. "Put your mouth to the end and drink," he said. + +Lea needed the water more, but he drank first, suspicious of the living +water source. A hollow below the writhing petals was filling with +straw-colored water from the fibrous, reedy interior. He raised it to +his mouth and drank. The water was hot and tasted swampy. Sudden sharp +pains around his mouth made him jerk the thing away. Tiny glistening +white barbs projected from the petals, pink tipped now with his blood. +Brion swung towards the Disan angrily--and stopped when he looked at the +other man's face. His mouth was surrounded by many small scars. + +"The vaede does not like to give up its water, but it always does," the +man said. + +Brion drank again then put the vaede to Lea's mouth. She moaned without +regaining consciousness, her lips seeking reflexively for the +life-saving liquid. When she was satisfied Brion gently drew the barbs +from her flesh and drank again. The Disan hunkered down on his heels and +watched them expressionlessly. Brion handed back the vaede, then held +some of the clothes so Lea was in their shade. He settled into the same +position as the native and looked closely at him. + +Squatting immobile on his heels, the Disan appeared perfectly comfortable +under the flaming sun. There was no trace of perspiration on his naked, +browned skin. Long hair fell to his shoulders and startlingly blue eyes +stared back at Brion from deep-set sockets. The heavy kilt around his +loins was the only garment he wore. Once more the vaede rested over his +shoulder, still stirring unhappily. Around his waist was the same +collection of leather, stone and brass objects that had been in the +solido. Two of them now had meaning to Brion. The tube-and-mouthpiece; a +blowgun of some kind. And the specially shaped hook for opening the +vaede. He wondered if the other strangely formed things had equally +realistic functions. If you accepted them as artifacts with a +purpose--not barbaric decorations--you had to accept their owner as +something more than the crude savage he resembled. + +"My name is Brion. And you--" + +"You may not have my name. Why are you here? To kill my people?" + +Brion forced the memory of the last night away. Killing was just what he +had done. Some expectancy in the man's manner, some sensed feeling of +hope prompted Brion to speak the truth. + +"I'm here to stop your people from being killed. I believe in the end of +the war." + +"Prove it." + +"Take me to the Cultural Relationships Foundation in the city and I'll +prove it. I can do nothing here in the desert. Except die." + +For the first time there was emotion on the Disan's face. He frowned and +muttered something to himself. There was a fine beading of sweat above +his eyelids now as he fought an internal battle. Coming to a decision he +rose, and Brion stood, too. + +"Come with me. I'll take you to Hovedstad. But wait, there is one thing +I must know. Are you from Nyjord?" + +"No." + +The nameless Disan merely grunted and turned away. Brion shouldered +Lea's unconscious body and followed him. They walked for two hours, the +Disan setting a cruel pace, before they reached a wasteland of jumbled +rock. The native pointed to the highest tower of sand-eroded stone. +"Wait near this," he said. "Someone will come for you." He watched while +Brion placed the girl's still body in the shade, and passed over the +vaede for the last time. Just before leaving he turned back, hesitating. + +"My name is ... Ulv," he said. Then he was gone. + +Brion did what he could to make Lea comfortable, but it was very little. +If she didn't get medical attention soon she would be dead. Dehydration +and shock were uniting to destroy her. + +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +Just before sunset Brion heard clanking, and the throbbing whine of a +sandcar's engine coming from the west. + +With each second the noise grew louder, coming their way. The tracks +squeaked as the car turned around the rock spire, obviously seeking them +out. A large carrier, big as a truck. It stopped before them in a cloud +of its own dust and the driver kicked the door open. + +"Get in here--and fast!" the man shouted. "You're letting in all the +heat." He gunned the engine, ready to kick in the gears, looking at them +irritatedly. + +Ignoring the driver's nervous instructions, Brion carefully placed Lea +on the rear seat before he pulled the door shut. The car surged forward +instantly, a blast of icy air pouring from the air-cooling vents. It +wasn't cold in the vehicle--but the temperature was at least forty +degrees lower than the outer air. Brion covered Lea with all their extra +clothing to prevent any further shock to her system. The driver, hunched +over the wheel and driving with an intense speed, hadn't said a word to +them since they had entered. + +Brion looked up as another man stepped from the engine compartment in +the rear of the car. He was thin, harried looking. Pointing a gun. + +"Who are you," he said, without a trace of warmth in his voice. + +It was a strange reception, but Brion was beginning to realize that Dis +was a strange planet. He sat, relaxed and unmoving, keeping his voice +pitched low. The other man chewed at his lip nervously and Brion didn't +want to startle him into pulling the trigger. + +"My name is Brandd. We landed from space two nights ago and have been +walking in the desert ever since. Now don't get excited and shoot the +gun when I tell you this--but both Vion and Ihjel are dead." + +The man with the gun gasped, his eyes widened. The driver threw a single +frightened look over his shoulder then turned quickly back to the wheel. +Brion's probe had hit its mark. If these men weren't from the Cultural +Relationships Foundation, they at least knew a lot about it. It seemed +safe to assume they were C.R.F. men. + +"When they were shot the girl and I escaped. We were trying to reach the +city and contact you. You are from the Foundation, aren't you?" + +"Yes. Of course," the man said, lowering the gun. He stared glassy-eyed +into space for a moment, nervously working his teeth against his lip. +Startled at his own inattention he raised the gun again. + +"If you're Brandd, there's something I want to know." Rummaging in his +breast pocket with his free hand he brought out a yellow message form. +He moved his lips as he reread the message. "Now answer me--if you +can--what are the last three events in the"--he took a quick look at the +paper again--"in the Twenties?" + +"Chess finals, rifle prone position and fencing playoffs. Why?" + +The man grunted and slid the pistol back into its holder, satisfied. +"I'm Faussel," he said, and waved the message at Brion. "This is Ihjel's +last will and testament, relayed to us by the Nyjord blockade control. +He thought he was going to die and he sure was right. Passed on his job +to you. You're in charge. I was Mervv's second-in-command, until he was +poisoned. I was supposed to work for Ihjel and now I guess I'm yours. At +least until tomorrow when we'll have everything packed and get off this +hell planet?" + +"What do you mean tomorrow?" Brion asked. "It's three days to deadline +and we still have a job to do." + +Faussel had dropped heavily into one of the seats and he sprang to his +feet again, clutching the seat back to keep his balance in the swaying +car. + +"Three days, three weeks, three minutes--what difference does it make?" +His voice rose shrilly with each word and he had to make a definite +effort to master himself before he could go on. "Look. You don't know +anything about this. You just came and that's your bad luck. My bad luck +is being assigned to this death trap and watching the depraved and +filthy things the natives do. And trying to be polite to them even when +they are killing my friends, and those Nyjord bombers up there with +their hands on the triggers. One of those bombardiers is going to start +thinking about home and about the cobalt bombs down here and he's going +to press that button--deadline or no deadline." + +"Sit down, Faussel. Sit down and take a rest." There was sympathy in +Brion's voice--but also the firmness of an order. Faussel swayed for a +second longer, then collapsed. He sat with his cheek against the window, +eyes closed. A pulse throbbed visibly in his temple and his lips worked. +Under too much tension for too long a time. + + * * * * * + +This was the atmosphere that hung heavily in the air at the C.R.F. +building when they arrived. Despair and defeat. The doctor was the only +one who didn't share this mood as he bustled Lea off to the clinic with +prompt efficiency. He obviously had enough patients to keep his mind +occupied. With the others the feeling of depression was unmistakable. +From the first instant they had driven through the automatic garage door +Brion had swum in this miasma of defeat. It was omnipresent and hard to +ignore. + +As soon as he had eaten he went with Faussel into what was to have been +Ihjel's office. Through the transparent walls he could see the staff +packing the records, crating them for shipment. Faussel seemed less +nervous now that he was no longer in command. Brion rejected any idea he +had of letting the man know that he was only a green novice in the +Foundation. He was going to need all the authority he could muster, +since they would undoubtedly hate him for what he was going to do. + +"Better take notes of this Faussel, and have it typed. I'll sign it." +The printed words always carried the most authority. "All preparations +for leaving are to be stopped at once. Records are to be returned to the +files. We are going to stay here just as long as we have clearance from +the Nyjorders. If this operation is unsuccessful, we will all leave +together when the time expires. We will take whatever personal baggage +we can carry by hand, everything else stays here. Perhaps you don't +realize we are here to save a planet--not file cabinets full of papers." +Out of the corner of his eye he saw Faussel flush, then angrily +transcribe his notes. "As soon as that is typed bring it back. And all +the reports as to what has been accomplished on this project. That will +be all for now." + +Faussel stamped out and a minute later Brion saw the shocked, angry +looks from the workers in the outer office. Turning his back to them he +opened the drawers in the desk, one after another. The top drawer was +empty, except for a sealed envelope. It was addressed to Winner Ihjel. + +Brion looked at it thoughtfully, then ripped it open. The letter inside +was handwritten. + + Ihjel: + + I've had the official word that you are on the way to relieve me and + I am forced to admit I feel only an intense satisfaction. You've had + the experience on these outlaw planets and can get along with the + odd types. I have been specializing in research for the last twenty + years, and the only reason I was appointed planetary supervisor on + Nyjord was because of the observation and application facilities. + I'm the research type not the office type, no one has ever denied + that. + + You're going to have trouble with the staff, so you had better + realize that they are all compulsory volunteers. Half are clerical + people from my staff. The others a mixed bag of whoever was close + enough to be pulled in on this crash assignment. It developed so + fast we never saw it coming. And I'm afraid we've done little or + nothing to stop it. We can't get access to the natives here, not in + the slightest. It's frightening! They don't fit! I've done Poisson + Distributions on a dozen different factors and none of them can be + equated. The Pareto Extrapolations don't work. Our field men can't + even talk to the natives and two have been killed trying. The ruling + class is unapproachable and the rest just keep their mouths shut and + walk away. + + I'm going to take a chance and try to talk to Lig-magte, perhaps I + can make him see sense. I doubt if it will work and there is a + chance he will try violence with me, the nobility here are very + prone to violence. If I get back all right, you won't see this note. + Otherwise--good-by Ihjel, try to do a better job than I did. + + Aston Mervv + + P.S. There is a problem with the staff. They are supposed to be + saviors, but without exception they all loathe the Disans. I'm + afraid I do, too. + +Brion ticked off the relevant points in the letter. He had to find some +way of discovering what Pareto Extrapolations were--without uncovering +his own lack of knowledge. The staff would vanish in five minutes if +they knew how green he was at the job. Poisson Distribution made more +sense. It was used in physics as the unchanging probability of an event +that would be true at all times. Such as the number of particles that +would be given off by a lump radioactive matter during a short period. +From the way Mervv used it in his letter it looked as if the Societics +people had found measurable applications in societies and groups--at +least on other planets. None of the rules seemed to be working on Dis. +Ihjel had admitted that, and Mervv's death had proven it. Brion +wondered who this Lig-magte was who appeared to have killed Mervv. + + * * * * * + +A forged cough broke through Brion's concentration, and he realized that +Faussel had been standing in front of his desk for some minutes. When +Brion looked up at the man he was mopping perspiration from his face. + +"Your air conditioner seems to be out of order," he said. "Should I have +the mechanic look at it?" + +"There's nothing wrong with the machine, I'm just adapting to Dis +climate. Anything else, Faussel?" + +The assistant had a doubting look that he didn't succeed in hiding. He +also had trouble believing the literal truth. He placed the small stack +of file folders on the desk. + +"These are the reports to date, everything we have uncovered about the +Disans. It's not very much; however, considering the antisocial +attitudes on this lousy world, it is the best we could do." A sudden +thought hit him, and his eyes narrowed slyly. "It can't be helped, but +some of the staff have been wondering out loud about that native that +contacted us. How did you get him to help you? We've never gotten to +first base with these people and as soon as you land you have one +working for you. You can't stop people from thinking about it, you being +a newcomer and a stranger. After all, it looks a little odd...." He +broke off in mid-sentence as Brion looked up in a cold fury. + +"I can't stop people from thinking about it--but I can stop them from +talking. Our job is to contact the Disans and end this suicidal war. I +have done more in one day than all of you have done since you arrived. I +have accomplished this because I am better at my work than the rest of +you. That is all the information any of you are going to receive. You +are dismissed." + +White with anger, Faussel turned on his heel and stamped out. Out to +spread the word about what a slave-driver the new director was. They +would then all hate him passionately which was just the way he wanted +it. He couldn't risk exposure as the tyro he was. And perhaps a new +emotion, other than disgust and defeat, might jar them into a little +action. They certainly couldn't do any worse than they had been doing. + +It was a frightening amount of responsibility. For the first time since +setting foot on this barbaric planet Brion had time to stop and think. +He was taking an awful lot upon himself. He knew nothing about this +world, nor about the powers involved in the conflict. Here he sat +pretending to be in charge of an organization he had first heard about +only a few weeks earlier. It was a frightening situation. Should he +slide out from under? + +There was just one possible answer, and that was _no_. Until he found +someone else who could do better, he seemed to be the one best suited +for the job. And Ihjel's opinion had to count for something. Brion had +felt the surety of the man's convictions that Brion was the only one +who might possibly succeed in this difficult spot. + +Let it go at that. If he had any qualms, it would be best to put them +behind him. Aside from everything else there was a primary bit of +loyalty involved. Ihjel had been an Anvharian and a Winner. Maybe it was +a provincial attitude to hold in this great big universe--Anvhar was +certainly far enough away from here--but honor is very important to a +man who must stand alone. He had a debt to Ihjel and he was going to pay +it off. + +Once the decision had been made he felt easier. There was an intercom on +the desk in front of him and he leaned with a heavy thumb on the button +labeled _Faussel_. + +"Yes?" Even through the speaker the man's voice was cold and efficient +with ill-concealed hatred. + +"Who is Lig-magte? And did the former director ever return from seeing +him?" + +"Magte is a title that means roughly noble or lord, Lig-magte is the +local overlord. He has an ugly stoneheap of a building just outside the +city. He seems to be the mouthpiece for the group of magter that are +pushing this idiotic war. As to your second question I have to answer +yes and no. We found Director Mervv's head outside the door next morning +with all the skin gone. We knew it was him because the doctor identified +the bridgework in his mouth. _Do you understand?_" + +All pretense of control had vanished and Faussel almost shrieked the +last words. They were all close to cracking up, if he was any example. +Brion broke in quickly. + +"That will be all, Faussel. Just get word to the doctor that I would +like to see him as soon as I can." He broke the connection and opened +the first of the folders. By the time the doctor called he had skimmed +the reports and was reading the relevant ones in greater detail. Putting +on his warm coat he went through the outer office. The few workers still +on duty turned their backs in frigid silence. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Stine had a pink and shiny bald head that rose above a thick black +beard. Brion liked him at once. Anyone with enough firmness of mind to +keep a beard in this climate was a pleasant exception after what he had +met so far. + +"How's the new patient, doctor?" + +Stine combed his beard with stubby fingers before answering. "Diagnosis: +heat-syncope. Prognosis: complete recovery. Condition fair, considering +the dehydration and extensive sunburn. I've treated the burns and a +saline drip is taking care of the other. She just missed going into +heat-shock. I have her under sedation now." + +"I'd like to have her up and helping me tomorrow morning. Could she do +this--with stimulants or drugs?" + +"She could--but I don't like it. There might be side factors, perhaps +long-standing debilitation. It's a chance." + +"A chance we will have to take. In less than seventy hours this planet +is due for destruction. In attempting to avert that tragedy I'm +expendable as is everyone else here. Agreed?" + +The doctor grunted deep in his beard and looked Brion's immense frame up +and down. "Agreed," he said, almost happily. "It is a distinct pleasure +to see something beside black defeat around here. I'll go along with +you." + +"Well you can help me right now. I checked the personnel roster and +discovered that out of the twenty-eight people working here there isn't +a physical scientist of any kind--other than yourself." + +"A scruffy bunch of button-pushers and theoreticians. Not worth a damn +for field work, the whole bunch of them!" The doctor toed the floor +switch on a waste receptacle and spat into it with feeling. + +"Then I'm going to depend on you for some straight answers," Brion said. +"This is an un-standard operation and the standard techniques just don't +begin to make sense. Even Poisson Distributions and Pareto +Extrapolations don't apply here." Stine nodded agreement and Brion +relaxed a bit. He had just relieved himself of his entire knowledge of +Societics and it had sounded authentic. "The more I look at it the more +I believe that this is a physical problem; something to so with the +exotic and massive adjustments the Disans have made to this hellish +environment. Could this tie up in any way with their absolutely suicidal +attitude towards the cobalt bombs?" + +"Could it? Could it?" Dr. Stine paced the floor rapidly on his stocky +legs, twining his fingers behind his back. "You are bloody well right it +could. Someone is thinking at last and not just punching bloody numbers +into a machine and sitting and scratching while waiting for the screen +to light up with the answers. Do you know how Disans exist?" Brion shook +his head no. "The fools here think it disgusting, but I call it +fascinating. The have found ways to join in a symbiotic relationship +with the life forms on this planet. Even a parasitic relationship. You +must realize, that living organisms will do anything to survive. +Castaways at sea will drink any liquid at all in their search for water. +Disgust at this is only the attitude of the over-protected who have +never experienced extreme thirst or hunger. Well, here on Dis you have a +planet of castaways." + +Stine opened the door of the pharmacy. "This talk of thirst makes me +dry." With economically efficient motions he poured grain alcohol into a +beaker, thinned it with distilled water and flavored it with some flavor +crystals from a bottle. He filled two glasses and handed Brion one. It +didn't taste bad at all. + +"How do you mean parasitic, doctor? Aren't we all parasites of the lower +life forms? Meat animals, vegetables and such?" + +"No, no--you miss the point! I speak of parasitic in the exact meaning +of the word. You must realize that to a biologist there is no real +difference between a parasitism, symbiosis, mutualism, biontergasy, +commensalism--" + +"Stop, stop!" Brion said. "Those are just meaningless sounds to me. If +that is what makes this planet tick, I'm beginning to see why the rest +of the staff has that lost feeling." + +"It is just a matter of degree of the same thing. Look. You have a kind +of crustacean living in the lakes here, very much like an ordinary crab. +It has large claws in which it holds anemones, tentacled sea animals +with no power of motion. The crustacean waves these around to gather +food, and eats the pieces they capture that are too big for them. This +is biontergasy, two creatures living and working together, yet each +capable of existing alone. Now, this same crustacean has a parasite +living under its shell, a degenerated form of a snail that has lost all +powers of movement. A true parasite that takes food from its host's body +and gives nothing in return. Inside this snail's gut there is a +protozoan that lives off the snail's ingested food. Yet this little +organism is not a parasite as you might think at first, but a symbiote. +It takes food from the snail, but at the same time it secretes a +chemical that aids the snail's digestion of the food. Do you get the +picture? All these life forms exist in a complicated interdependence." + + * * * * * + +Brion frowned in concentration, sipping at the drink. "It's making some +kind of sense now. Symbiosis, parasitism and all the rest are just ways +of describing variations of the same basic process of living together. +And there is probably a grading and shading between some of these that +make the exact relationship hard to define." + +[Illustration] + +"Precisely. Existence is so difficult on this world that the competing +forms have almost died out. There are still a few left, preying off the +others. It was the co-operating and interdependent life forms that +really won out in the race for survival. I say life forms with intent; +the creatures here are mostly a mixture of plant and animal, like the +lichens you have elsewhere. The Disans have a creature they call a vaede +that they use for water when traveling. It has rudimentary powers of +motion from its animal parts, yet uses photosynthesis and stores water +like a plant. When the Disans drink from it the thing taps their blood +stream for food elements." + +"I know," Brion said wryly. "I drank from one. You can see my scars. I'm +beginning to comprehend how the Disans fit into the physical pattern of +their world, and I realize it must have all kinds of psychological +effects on them. Do you think this has any effect on their social +organization?" + +"An important one. But maybe I'm making too many suppositions now, +perhaps your researchers upstairs can tell you better, after all this is +their field." + +Brion had studied the reports on the social setup and not one word of +them made sense. They were a solid maze of unknown symbols and cryptic +charts. "Please continue, doctor," he insisted. "The Societics reports +are valueless so far. There are factors missing. You are the only one I +have talked to so far who can give me any intelligent reports or +answers." + +"All right then--be it on your own head. The way I see it you've got no +society here at all, just a bunch of rugged individualists. Each one for +himself, getting nourishment from the other life forms of the planet. If +they have a society, it is orientated towards the rest of the planetary +life--instead of towards other human beings. Perhaps that's why your +figures don't make sense. They are setup for human societies. In their +relations with each other these people are completely different." + +"What about the magter, the upper-class types who build castles and are +causing all this trouble?" + +"I have no explanation," Dr. Stine grumbled. "My theories hold water and +seem logical enough up to this point. But the magter are the exception +and I have no idea why. They are completely different from the rest of +the Disans. Argumentative, bloodthirsty, looking for planetary conquest +instead of peace. They aren't rulers, not in the real sense. They hold +power because nobody else wants it. They grant mining concessions to +offworlders because they are the only ones with a sense of property. +Maybe I'm going out on a limb. But if you can find out _why_ they are so +different you may be onto the clue to our difficulties." + +For the first time since his arrival Brion began to feel a touch of +enthusiasm. Plus the remote possibility that there might even be a +solution to the deadly problem. He drained his glass and stood up. "I +hope you'll wake your patient early, doctor. You might be as interested +in talking to her as I am. If what you told me is true, she could well +be our key to the answer. Her name is Professor Lea Morees and she is +just out from Earth with degrees in exobiology and anthropology, and has +a head stuffed with vital facts." + +"Wonderful!" Stine said. "I shall take care of the head not only because +it is so pretty but because of its knowledge. Though we totter on the +edge of atomic destruction I have a strange feeling of optimism--for the +first time since I landed on this planet." + + + + +IX + + +The guard inside the front entrance of the Foundation building jumped at +the thunderous noise and reached for his gun. He dropped his hand +sheepishly when he realized it was only a sneeze--though a gargantuan +one. Brion came up, sniffling, huddling down into his coat. "I'm going +out before I catch pneumonia," he said. The guard saluted dumbly and +after checking his proximity detector screens he turned off the light +and opened the door. Brion slipped out and the heavy portal thudded shut +behind him. The street was still warm from the heat of the day and he +sighed happily and opened his coat. + +This was partially a reconnaissance trip--and partly to get warmed up. +There was little else he could do in the building, the staff had long +since retired. He had slept himself, for half an hour, and now was +refreshed and ready to work. All of the reports he could understand had +been read and reread until they were memorized. He could use the time +now, while the rest of them were asleep, to get better acquainted with +the main city of Dis. + +As he walked the dark streets he realized how alien the Disan way of +life was to everything he knew. This city--Hovedstad--literally meant +"main place" in the native language. And that's all it was. It was only +the presence of the offworlders that made it into a city. Building after +building, standing deserted, bore the names of mining companies, +traders, space transporters. None of them were occupied now. Some still +had lights burning, switched on by automatic apparatus, others were as +dark as the Disan structures. There weren't many of these native +constructions and they seemed out of place among the rammed earth and +prefab offworld buildings. Brion examined one that was dimly illumined +by the light on the corner of VEGAN SMELTERS, LTD. + +It consisted of a single large room, resting flat on the ground. There +were no windows and the whole thing appeared to have been constructed of +some sort of woven material plastered with stone-hard mud. There was +nothing blocking the door and he was thinking seriously of going in when +he became aware that he was being followed. + +It was only a slight noise, almost lost in the night. Normally it would +never have been noticed, but tonight Brion was listening with his entire +body. Someone was behind him, swallowed up in the pools of darkness. +Brion shrank back against the wall. There was very little chance this +could be anyone but a Disan. He had a sudden memory of Mervv's severed +head as it had been discovered outside the door. + +Ihjel had helped him train his empathetic sense and he reached out with +it. It was difficult working in the dark, he could be sure of nothing. +Was he getting a reaction--or just wishing for one? Why did it have a +ring of familiarity to it. A sudden idea struck him. + +"Ulv," he said, very softly. "This is Brion." He crouched, ready for any +attack. + +"I know," a voice said softly in the night. "Do not talk. Walk in the +direction you were going before." + +Asking questions now would accomplish nothing. Brion turned instantly +and did as he was bidden. The buildings grew farther apart until he +realized from the sand underfoot that he was back in the planet-wide +desert. It could be a trap--he hadn't recognized the voice behind the +whisper--yet he still had to take this chance. A darker shape appeared +in the dark night near him, and a burning hot hand touched his arm +lightly. + +"We can talk here." The words were louder and this time Brion recognized +the voice. "I have brought you to the city as I told you I would. Have +you done as you said you would?" + +"I am doing it--but I need your help, Ulv. It is your life that needs +saving and you must do your part--" + +"What is truth?" Ulv interrupted. "All I hear is difference. The magter +have done well though they live the wrong way. I myself have had bronze +from them and there is water just for going. Now they tell us they are +getting a different world for us all from the sky people and that is +good, too. Your people are the essence of evil and there is no harm in +killing them." + +"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?" + +"I could have. But there is something more important. What is truth? +What is on the papers that fall from the sky?" He sighed once, deeply. +"There are black marks on them that some can tell meaning from. What did +the ship voices mean when they said the magter were destroying the world +and must be put down? I did not hear the voices, but I know one who did +and he went to talk to Lig-magte which was foolish, because he was +killed as he should have known he would be." + +"The ships were telling you the truth, Ulv. The magter have bombs that +will destroy Nyjord--the next planet--there." He pointed to the star +newly rising in the east. "The bombs cannot be stopped. Unless the bombs +are found or the magter drop their suicidal plans, this planet will +burst into flames in three days time." + +Ulv turned and started away. Brion called after him. "Wait. Will you +help me stop this? How can I find you again?" + +"I must think," the Disan answered still moving away. "I will find you." + +He was gone. Brion shivered in the sudden chill of the air, and wrapped +the coat tighter around him. He started walking back towards the warmer +streets of the city. + + * * * * * + +It was dawn when he reached the Foundation building; a new guard was at +the front entrance. No amount of hammering or threats could convince the +man to open until Faussel came down, yawning and blinking with sleep. He +was starting some complaint when Brion cut him off curtly and ordered +him to finish dressing and report for work at once. Still feeling elated +he steamed into his office and cursed the overly-efficient character who +had turned on his air conditioner to chill the room again. When he +turned it off this time he removed enough of the vital parts to keep it +out of order for the duration. + +When Faussel came in he was still yawning behind his fist. Obviously a +low morning-sugar type. "Before you fall on your face, go out and get +some coffee," Brion said. "Two cups. I'll have a cup, too." + +"That won't be necessary," Faussel said, drawing himself up stiffly. +"I'll call the canteen if you wish some." He said it in the iciest tone +he could manage this early in the morning. + +In his enthusiasm Brion had forgotten the hate campaign he had directed +against himself. "Suit yourself," he snapped, getting back into the +role. "But the next time you yawn there'll be a negative entry in your +service record. If that's clear--you can brief me on this organization's +visible relations with the Disans. How do they take us?" + +Faussel choked and swallowed a yawn. "I believe they look on the C.R.F +people as some species of simpleton, sir. They hate all offworlders, +memory of their desertion has been passed on verbally for generations. +So by their one-to-one logic we should either hate back or go away. We +stay instead. And give them food, water, medicine and artifacts. Because +of this they let us remain on sufferance. I imagine they consider us +do-gooder idiots, and, as long as we cause no trouble, they'll let us +stay." He was struggling miserably to suppress a yawn, so Brion turned +his back and gave him a chance to get it out. + +"What about the Nyjorders? How much do they know of our work?" Brion +looked out the window at dusty buildings, outlined in purple against the +violent colors of the desert sunrise. + +"Nyjord is a co-operating planet, and has full knowledge at all +executive levels. They are giving us all the aid they can." + +"Well now is the time to ask for more. Can I contact the commander of +the blockading fleet?" + +"There is a scrambler connection right through to him. I'll set it up." +Faussel bent over the desk and punched a number into the phone controls. +The screen flowed with the black and white patterns of the scrambler. + +"That's all, Faussel. I want privacy for this talk. What's the +commander's name?" + +"Professor Krafft, he's a physicist. They have no military men at all, +so they called him in for the construction of the bombs and energy +weapons. He's still in charge." Faussel yawned extravagantly as he went +out the door. + +The professor-commander was very old, with wispy gray hair and a network +of wrinkles surrounding his eyes. His image shimmered then cleared as +the scrambler units aligned. + +"You must be Brion Brandd," he said. "I have to tell you how sorry we +all are that your friend Ihjel--and the two others--had to die. After +coming so far to help us. I'm sure you are very happy to have had a +friend like that." + +"Why ... yes, of course," Brion said, reaching for the scattered +fragments of his thought processes. It took an effort to remember the +first conflict now that he was worrying about the death of a planet. +"Very kind of you to mention it. But I would like to find out a few +things about you, if I could." + +"Anything at all, we are at your disposal. Before we begin though, I +shall pass on the thanks of our council for your aid in joining us. Even +if we are eventually forced to drop the bombs, we shall never forget +that your organization did everything possible to avert the disaster." + +Once again Brion was caught off balance. For an instant he wondered if +Krafft was being insincere, then recognized the baseness of this +thought. The completeness of the man's humanity was obvious and +compelling. The thought passed through Brion's mind that now he had an +additional reason for wanting the war ended without destruction on +either side. He very much wanted to visit Nyjord and see these people on +their home grounds. + + * * * * * + +Professor Krafft waited, patiently and silently, while Brion pulled his +thoughts together and answered. "I still hope that this thing can be +stopped in time. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to +see Lig-magte and I thought it would be better if I had a legitimate +reason. Are you in contact with him?" + +Krafft shook his head. "No, not really in contact. When this trouble +started I sent him a transceiver so we could talk directly. But he has +delivered his ultimatum, speaking for the _magter_. The only terms he +will hear are unconditional surrender. His receiver is on but he has +said that is the only message he will answer." + +"Not much chance of him ever being told that," Brion said. + +"There was--at one time. I hope you realize Brion that the decision to +bomb Dis was not easily arrived at. A great many people--myself +included--voted for unconditional surrender. We lost the vote by a very +small margin." + +Brion was getting used to these philosophical body blows and he rolled +with the punches now. "Are there any of your people left on this planet? +Or do you have any troops I can call on for help? This is still a remote +possibility, but, if I do find out where the bombs or the launcher are, +a surprise raid would knock them out." + +"We have no people left in Hovedstad now--all the ones who weren't +evacuated were killed. But there are commando teams standing by here to +make a landing if the weapons are detected. The Disans must depend on +secrecy to protect their armament since we have both the manpower and +the technology to reach any objective. We also have technicians and +other volunteers looking for the weapon sites. They have not been +successful as yet, and most of them were killed soon after landing." +Krafft hesitated for a moment. "There is another group that you should +know about, you will need all the factors. There are some of our people +in the desert outside of Hovedstad. We do not officially approve of +them, though they have a good deal of popular support. Mostly young men, +operating as raiders, killing and destroying with very little +compunction. They are attempting to uncover the weapons by sheer +strength of arms." + +This was the best news yet. Brion controlled his voice and kept his +expression calm when he spoke. "I don't know how far I can stretch your +co-operation--but could you possibly tell me how to contact them?" + +Krafft allowed himself a small smile. "I'll give you the wave length on +which you can reach their radio. They call themselves the 'Nyjord Army.' +When you talk to them you can do me a favor. Pass on a message. Just to +prove things aren't bad enough--they've become a little worse. One of +our technical crews has detected jump-space energy transmissions in the +planetary crust. The Disans are apparently testing their projector, +sooner than we had estimated. Our deadline has been revised by one day. +I'm afraid there are only two days left before you must evacuate." His +eyes were large with compassion. "I'm sorry. I know this will make your +job that much harder." + +Brion didn't want to think about the loss of a full day from his already +small deadline. "Have you told the Disans this as yet?" + +"No," Krafft told him. "The decision was reached just a few minutes +before your call. It is going on the radio to Lig-magte now." + +"Can you cancel the transmission and let me take the message in person?" + +"I can do that," Krafft thought for a moment, "but it would surely mean +your death at their hands. They have no hesitation in killing any of our +people. I would prefer to send it by radio." + +"If you do that, you will be interfering with my plans, and perhaps +destroying them under the guise of saving my life. Isn't my life my +own--to dispose of as I will?" + +For the first time, Professor Krafft was upset. "I'm sorry, terribly +sorry. I'm letting my concerns and worry wash over into my public +affairs. Of course you may do as you please. I could never think of +stopping you." He turned and said something inaudible offscreen. "The +call is cancelled. The responsibility is yours. All our wishes for +success go with you. End of transmission." + +"End of transmission," Brion said, and the screen went dark. + +"Faussel!" he shouted into the intercom. "Get me the best and fastest +sandcar we have, a driver who knows his way around and two men, who can +handle a gun and know how to take orders. We're going to get some +positive action at last." + + + + +X + + +"It's suicide," the taller guard grumbled. + +"Mine not yours, so don't worry about it," Brion snapped at him. "Your +job is to remember your orders and keep them straight. Now--let's hear +them again." + +The guard rolled his eyes up in silent rebellion and repeated in a +toneless voice. "We stay here in the car and keep the motor running +while you go inside the stone pile there. We don't let anybody in the +car and we try and keep them clear of the car--short of shooting them +that is. We don't come in no matter what happens or what it looks like, +but wait for you here. Unless you call on the radio in which case we +come in with the automatics going and shoot the place up and it doesn't +matter who we hit. This will only be used as a last resort." + +"See if you can't arrange that last resort thing if you can," the other +guard said, patting the heavy blue barrel of his weapon. + +"I meant that _last_ resort," Brion said angrily. "If any guns go off +without my permission, you will pay for it and pay with your necks. I +want that clearly understood. You are here as a rear guard and a base +for me to get back to. This is my operation and mine alone--unless I +call you in. Understood?" + +He waited until all three men had nodded in agreement, then checked the +charge on his gun. Fully loaded. It would be foolish not to go in armed. +But he had to. One gun wouldn't save him. He put it aside. The button +radio on his collar was working and had a strong enough signal to get +through any number of walls. He took off his coat, threw open the door +and stepped out into the searing brilliance of the Disan noon. + +There was only the desert silence, broken by the steady throb of the +car's motor behind him. Stretching away to the horizon in every +direction were the eternal deserts of sand. The keep stood nearby, +solitary, a massive pile of black rocks. Brion plodded closer, watching +for any motion from the walls. Nothing stirred. The high-walled, +irregularly shaped construction sat in a ponderous silence. Brion was +sweating now, only partially from the heat. + +He circled the thing, looking for a gate. There wasn't one at ground +level. A slanting cleft in the stone could be climbed easily, but it +seemed incredible that this might be the only entrance. A complete +circuit proved that it was. Brion looked unhappily at the slanting and +broken ramp, then cupped his hands and shouted loudly. + +"I'm coming up. Your radio doesn't work any more. I'm bringing the +message from Nyjord that you have been waiting to hear." A slight +bending of the truth without fracturing it. There was no answer. Just +the hiss of wind-blown sand against the rock and the mutter of the car +in the background. He started to climb. + +The rock underfoot was crumbling and he had to watch where he put his +feet. At the same time he fought a constant impulse to look up, watching +for anything falling from above. Nothing happened. When he reached the +top of the wall he was breathing hard, sweat moistened his body. There +was still no one in sight. He stood on an unevenly shaped wall that +appeared to circle the building. Instead of a courtyard inside it, the +wall was the outer face of the structure, the domed roof rising from it. +At varying intervals dark openings gave access to the interior. When +Brion looked down the sandcar was just a dun-colored bump in the desert, +already far behind him. + +Stooping, he went through the nearest door. There was still no one in +sight. The room inside was something out of a madman's funhouse. It was +higher than it was wide, irregular, and more like a hallway than a room. +At one end it merged into an incline that became a stairwell. The other +ended in a hole that vanished in darkness below. Light of sorts filtered +in through slots and holes drilled into the thick stone wall. Everything +was built of the same crumble-textured but strong rock. Brion took the +stairs. After a number of blind passages and wrong turns he saw a +stronger light ahead. There was food, metal, even artifacts of the +unusual Disan design in the different rooms he passed through. Yet no +people. The light ahead grew stronger as he approached, the passageway +opening and swelling out until it met the larger central chamber. + +This was the heart of the strange structure. All the rooms, passageways +and halls existed just to give form to this gigantic hall. The walls +rose sharply, the room circular in cross section and growing narrower +towards the top. It was a truncated cone since there was no ceiling; a +hot blue disk of sky cast light on the floor below. + +On the floor stood a knot of men staring at Brion. + +Out of the corner of his eyes, and with the very periphery of his +consciousness, he was aware of the rest of the room. Barrels, stores, +machinery, a radio transceiver, various bundles and heaps that made no +sense at first glance. There was no time to look closer. Every fraction +of his attention was focused on the muffled and hooded men. + +He had found the enemy. + + * * * * * + +Everything that happened to him so far on Dis had been preparation for +this moment. The attack in the desert, the escape, the dreadful heat of +sun and sand. All this had tempered and prepared him. It had been +nothing in itself. Now the battle would begin in earnest. + +None of this was conscious. His fighter's reflexes bent his shoulders, +curved his hands before him as he walked softly in balance, ready to +spring in any direction. Yet none of this was really necessary. All the +danger so far was nonphysical. When he gave this thought conscious +thought he stopped, startled. What was wrong here? None of the men had +moved or made a sound. How could he even know they were men? They were +so muffled and wrapped in cloth that only their eyes were exposed. + +No doubt existed in Brion's mind. In spite of muffled cloth and silence +he knew them for what they were. The eyes were empty of expression and +unmoving, yet filled with the same negative emptiness as a bird of prey. +They could look on life, death, and the rending of flesh with the same +lack of interest and compassion. All this Brion knew in an instant of +time, without words being spoken. Between the time he lifted one foot +and walked a step he understood what he had to face. There could be no +doubt, not to an empathetic. + +[Illustration] + +From the group of silent men poured a frost-white wave of unemotion. An +empathetic shares what other men feel. He gets his knowledge of their +reaction by sensing lightly their emotions, the surges of interest, +hate, love, fear, desire, the sweep of large and small sensations that +accompany all thought and action. The empathetic is always aware of this +constant and silent surge, whether he makes the effort to understand it +or not. He is like a man glancing across the open pages of a tableful of +books. He can see that the type, words, paragraphs, thoughts are there +even without focusing his attention to understand any of it. + +Then how does the man feel when he glances at the open books and sees +only blank pages? The books are there--the words are not. He turns the +pages of one, then others, flipping pages, searching for meaning. There +is no meaning. All of the pages are blank. + +This was the way in which the magter were blank, without emotions. +There was a barely sensed surge and return that must have been neural +impulses on a basic level. The automatic adjustments of nerve and muscle +that keep an organism alive. Nothing more. Brion reached for other +sensations and there was nothing there to grasp. Either these men were +apparently without emotions or they were able to block them from his +detection, it was impossible to tell which. + +Very little time has passed in the objective world while Brion made +these discoveries. The knot of men still looked at him, silent and +unmoving. They weren't expectant, their attitude could not have been +called interest. But he had come to them and now they waited to find out +why. Any questions or statements they spoke would be redundant, so they +didn't speak. The responsibility was his. + +"I have come to talk with Lig-magte. Who is he?" Brion didn't like the +tiny sound his voice made in the immense room. + +One of the men gave a slight motion to draw attention to himself. None +of the others moved. They still waited. + +"I have a message for you," Brion said, talking slowly to fill the +silence of the room and the emptiness of his thoughts. This had to be +handled right. But what was right? "I'm from the Foundation in the city, +as you undoubtedly know. I've been talking to the people on Nyjord. They +have a message for you." + +The silence grew longer. Brion had no intention of making this a +monologue. He needed facts to operate, to form an opinion. Looking at +the silent forms was telling him nothing. Time stretched taut and +finally Lig-magte spoke. + +"The Nyjorders are going to surrender." + +It was an impossibly strange sentence. Brion had never realized before +how much of the content of speech was made up of emotion. If the man had +given it a positive emphasis, perhaps said it with enthusiasm, it would +have meant, "Success! The enemy is going to surrender!" This wasn't the +meaning. + +With a rising inflection on the end it would have been a question. "Are +they going to surrender?" It was neither of these. The sentence carried +no other message than that contained in the simplest meanings of the +separate words. It had intellectual connotations, but these could only +be gained from past knowledge, not from the sound of the words. There +was only one message they were prepared to receive from Nyjord. +Therefore, Brion was bringing the message. If that was not the message +Brion was bringing, the men here were not interested. + +This was the vital fact. If they were not interested he could have no +further value to them. Since he came from the enemy he was the enemy. +Therefore, he would be killed. Because this was vital to his existence +Brion took the time to follow the thought through. It made logical +sense--and logic was all he could depend on now. He could be talking to +robots or alien creatures for the amount of human response he was +receiving. + +"You can't win this war--all you can do is hurry your own deaths." He +said this with as much conviction as he could, realizing at the same +time that it was wasted effort. No flicker of response stirred in the +men before him. "The Nyjorders know you have cobalt bombs, and they have +detected your jump-space projector. They can't take any more chances. +They have pushed the deadline closer by an entire day. There are one and +a half days left before the bombs fall and you are all destroyed. Do you +realize what that means--" + +"Is that the message?" Lig-magte asked. + +"Yes," Brion said. + + * * * * * + +Two things saved his life then. He had guessed what would happen as soon +as they had his message, though he hadn't been sure. But even the +suspicion had put him on his guard. This, combined with the reflexes of +a Winner of the Twenties, was barely enough to enable him to survive. + +From frozen mobility Lig-magte had catapulted into headlong attack. As +he leaped forward he drew a curved, double-edged blade from under his +robes. It plunged unerringly through the spot where Brion's body had +been an instant before. + +There had been no time to tense his muscles and jump, just space to +relax them and fall to one side. His reasoning mind joined the battle as +he hit the floor. Lig-magte plunged by him, turning and bringing the +knife down at the same time. Brion's foot lashed out and caught the +other man's leg, sending him sprawling. + +They were both on their feet at the same instant, facing each other. +Brion now had his hands clasped before him in the unarmed man's best +defense against a knife, the two arms protecting the body, the two hands +joined to beat aside the knife arm from whichever direction it came. The +Disan hunched low, flipped the knife quickly from hand to hand, then +thrust it again at Brion's midriff. + +Only by the merest fractional margin did Brion evade the attack for the +second time. Lig-magte fought with complete violence. Every action was +as intense as possible, deadly and thorough. There could be only one end +to this unequal contest if Brion stayed on the defensive. The man with +the knife had to win. + +With the next charge Brion changed tactics. He leaped inside the thrust, +clutching for the knife arm. A burning slice of pain cut across his arm, +then his fingers clutched the tendoned wrist. Clamped down hard, +grinding shut, compressing with the tightening intensity of a closing +vise. + +It was all he could do to simply hold on. There was no science in it, +just his greater strength from exercise and existence on a heavier +planet. All of this strength went to his clutching hand, because he held +his own life in that hand, forcing away the knife that wanted to +terminate it forever. Nothing else mattered. Neither the frightening +force of the knees that thudded into his body nor the hooked fingers +that reached for his eyes to tear them out. He protected his face as +well as he could, while the nails tore furrows through his flesh and the +cut on his arm bled freely. These were only minor things to be endured. +His life depended on the grasp of the fingers of his right hand. + +There was a sudden immobility as he succeeded in clutching Lig-magte's +other arm. It was a good grip and he could hold the arm immobilized. +They had reached stasis, standing knee to knee, their faces only a few +inches apart. The muffling cloth had fallen from the Disan's face during +the struggle and empty, frigid eyes stared into Brion's. No flicker of +emotion crossed the harsh planes of the other man's face. A great +puckered white scar covered one cheek and pulled up a corner of the +mouth in a cheerless grimace. It was false, there was still no +expression here. Even when the pain must be growing more intense. + +Brion was winning--if no one broke the impasse. His greater weight and +strength counted now. The Disan would have to drop the knife before his +arm was dislocated at the shoulder. He didn't do it. With sudden horror +Brion realized that he wasn't going to drop it--no matter what happened. + +A dull, hideous snap jerked through the Disan's body and the arm hung +limp and dead. No expression crossed the other man's face. The knife was +still locked in the fingers of the paralyzed hand. With his other hand +Lig-magte reached across and started to pry the blade loose, ready to +continue the battle one-handed. Brion raised his foot and kicked the +knife free, sending it spinning across the room. + +Lig-magte made a fist of his good hand and crashed it into Brion's body. +He was still fighting, as if nothing had changed. Brion backed slowly +away from the man. "Stop it," he said. "You can't win now. It's +impossible." He called to the other men who were watching the unequal +battle with expressionless immobility. No one answered him. + +With a terrible sinking sensation Brion then realized what would happen +and what he had to do. Lig-magte was as heedless of his own life as he +was of the life of his planet. He would press the attack no matter what +damage was done to him. Brion had an insane vision of him breaking the +man's other arm, fracturing both his legs, and the limbless broken +creature still coming forward. Crawling, rolling, teeth bared since they +were the only remaining weapon. + +There was only one way to end it. Brion feinted and the Lig-magte's arm +moved clear of his body. The engulfing cloth was thin and through it +Brion could see the outlines of the Disan's abdomen and rib cage. The +clear location of the great nerve ganglion. + +It was the death blow of the kara-te. Brion had never used it on a man. +In practice he had broken heavy boards, splintering them instantly with +the short, precise stroke. The stiffened hand moving forward in a sudden +surge, all the weight and energy of his body concentrated in his joined +fingertips. Plunging deep into the other's flesh. + +Killing, not by accident or in sudden anger. Killing because this was +the only way the battle could possibly end. + +Like a ruined tower of flesh the Disan crumpled and fell. + +Dripping blood, exhausted, Brion stood over the body of Lig-magte and +stared at the dead man's allies. + +Death filled the room. + + + + +XI + + +Facing the silent Disans, Brion's thoughts hurtled about in sweeping +circles. There would be no more than an instant's tick of time before +the magter avenged themselves bloodily and completely. He felt a +fleeting regret for not having brought his gun, then abandoned the +thought. There was no time for regrets--what could he do NOW. + +The silent watchers hadn't attacked instantly, and Brion realized that +they couldn't be positive yet that Lig-magte had been killed. Only Brion +knew the deadliness of that blow. Their lack of knowledge might buy him +a little more time. + +"Lig-magte is unconscious, but will revive quickly," Brion said, +pointing at the huddled body. As the eyes turned automatically to follow +his finger, he began walking slowly towards the exit. "I did not want to +do this, but he forced me to, because he wouldn't listen to reason. Now +I have something else to show you, something that I hoped it would not +be necessary to reveal." + +He was saying the first words that came into his head, trying to keep +them distracted as long as possible. He must only appear to be going +across the room, that was the feeling he must generate. There was even +time to stop for a second and straighten his rumpled clothing and brush +the sweat from his eyes. Talking easily, walking slowly towards the hall +out of the chamber. He was halfway there when the spell broke and the +rush began. One of the magter knelt and touched the body, and shouted a +single word. + +"Dead." + +Brion hadn't waited for the official announcement. At the first movement +of feet he dived headlong for the shelter of the exit. There was a +spatter of tiny missiles on the wall next to him and he had a brief +glimpse of raised blowguns before the wall intervened. He went up the +dimly-lit stairs five at a time. + +The pack was just behind him, voiceless and deadly. He could not gain on +them--if anything they closed the distance as he pushed his already +tired body to the utmost. There was no subtlety or trick he could use +now, just straightforward flight back the way he had come. A single slip +on the irregular steps and it would be all over. + +There was someone ahead of him. If the woman had waited a few seconds +more, he would certainly have been killed. But instead of slashing at +him as he went by the doorway she made the mistake of rushing to the +center of the stairs, the knife ready to impale him as he came up. +Without slowing Brion fell onto his hands and easily dodged under the +blow. As he passed he twisted and seized her around the waist, picking +her from the ground. + +When her legs lifted from under her the woman screamed--the first human +sound Brion had heard in this human anthill. His pursuers were just +behind him, and he hurled the woman into them with all his strength. +They fell in a tangle and Brion used the precious seconds gained to +reach the top of the building. + + * * * * * + +There must have been other stairs and exits because one of the magter +stood between Brion and the way down out of this trap. Armed and ready +to kill him if he tried to pass. + +As he ran towards the executioner, Brion flicked on his collar radio and +shouted into it. "I'm in trouble here, can you--" + +The guards in the car must have been waiting for this message. Before he +had finished there was the thud of a high-velocity slug hitting flesh +and the Disan spun and fell, blood soaking his shoulder. Brion leaped +over him and headed for the ramp. + +"The next one is me--hold your fire!" he called. + +Both guards must have had their telescopic sights zeroed on the spot. +They let Brion pass, then threw in a hail of semiautomatic fire that +tore chunks from the stone and screamed away in noisy ricochets. Brion +didn't try to see if anyone was braving this hail of covering fire; he +concentrated his energies on making as quick and erratic a descent as he +could. Above the sounds of the firing he heard the car motor howl as it +leaped forward. With their careful aim spoiled, the gunners switched to +full automatic and unleashed a hailstorm of flying metal that bracketed +the top of the tower. + +"Cease ... firing!" Brion gasped into the radio as he ran. The driver +was good and timed his arrival with exactitude. The car reached the base +of the tower at the same instant Brion did, and he burst through the +door while it was still moving. No orders were necessary. He fell +headlong onto a seat as the car swung in a dust-raising turn and ground +into high gear back to the city. + +Reaching over carefully, the tall guard gently extracted a bit of +pointed wood and fluff from a fold of Brion's pants. He cracked open the +car door, and just as delicately threw it out. + +"I knew that thing didn't touch you," he said, "since you are still +among the living. They got a poison on those blowgun darts that takes +all of twelve seconds to work. Lucky." + +Lucky! Brion was beginning to realize just how lucky he was to be out of +the trap alive. With information. Now that he knew more about the +magter he shuddered at his innocence in walking alone and unarmed into +the tower. Skill had helped him survive--but better than average luck +had been necessary. Curiosity had gotten him in, brashness and speed had +taken him out. He was exhausted, battered and bloody--but cheerfully +happy. The facts about the magter were shaping themselves into a theory +that might explain their attempt at racial suicide. It just needed a +little time to be put into shape. + +A pain cut across his arm and he jumped, startled, pieces of his +thoughts crashing into ruin around him. The gunner had cracked the first +aid box and was swabbing his arm with antiseptic. The knife wound was +long, but not deep. Brion shivered while the bandage was going on, then +quickly slipped into his coat. The air conditioner whined industriously, +bringing down the temperature. + +There was no attempt to follow the car. When the black tower had dropped +over the horizon the guards relaxed, ran cleaning rods through their +guns and compared marksmanship. All of their antagonism towards Brion +was gone--they actually smiled at him. He had given them the first +chance to shoot back since they had been on this planet. + +The ride was uneventful and Brion was scarcely aware of it. A theory was +taking form in his mind. It was radical, unusual and startling--yet it +seemed to be the only one that fitted the facts. He pushed at it from +all sides, but if there were any holes he couldn't find them. What it +needed was dispassionate proving or disproving. There was only one +person on Dis who was qualified to do this. + + * * * * * + +Lea was working in the lab when he came in, bent over a low-power +binocular microscope. Something small, limbless and throbbing was on the +slide. She glanced up when she heard his footsteps, smiling warmly when +she recognized him. Fatigue and pain had drawn her face, her skin +glistening with burn ointment, was chapped and peeling. "I must look a +wreck," she said, putting the back of her hand to her cheek. "Something +like a well-oiled and lightly cooked piece of beef." She lowered her arm +suddenly and took his hand in both of hers. Her palms were warm and +slightly moist. + +"Thank you, Brion," was all she could say. Her society on Earth was +highly civilized and sophisticated, able to discuss any topic without +emotion and without embarrassment. This was fine in most circumstances, +but made it difficult to thank a person for saving your life. However +you tried to phrase it, it came out sounding like a last act speech from +an historical play. There was no doubt, however, as to what she meant. +Her eyes were large and dark, the pupils dilated by the drugs she had +been given. They could not lie, nor could the emotions he sensed. He did +not answer, just held her hand an instant longer. + +"How do you feel?" he asked, concerned. His conscience twinged as he +remembered that he was the one who had ordered her out of bed and back +to work today. + +"I should be feeling terrible," she said, with an airy wave of her hand. +"But I'm walking on top of the world. I'm so loaded with pain-killers +and stimulants that I'm high as the moon. All the nerves to my feet feel +turned off--it's like walking on two balls of fluff. Thanks for getting +me out of that awful hospital and back to work." + +[Illustration] + +Brion was suddenly ashamed of having driven her from her sick bed. +"Don't be sorry!" Lea said, apparently reading his mind, but really +seeing only his sudden drooped expression. "I'm feeling no pain. +Honestly, I feel a little light-headed and foggy at times, nothing more. +And this is the job I came here to do. In fact ... well, it's almost +impossible to tell you just how fascinating it all is! It was almost +worth getting baked and parboiled for." + +She swung back to the microscope, centering the specimen with a turn of +the stage adjustment screw. "Poor Ihjel was right when he said this +planet was exobiologically fascinating. This is a gastropod, a lot like +_Odostomia_, but it has parasitical morphological changes so profound--" + +"There's something else I remember," Brion said, interrupting her +enthusiastic lecture, only half of which he could understand. "Didn't +Ihjel also hope that you would give some study to the natives as well as +their environment. The problem is with the Disans--not the local wild +life." + +"But I am studying them," Lea insisted. "The Disans have attained an +incredibly advanced form of commensalism. Their lives are so intimately +connected and integrated with the other life forms that they must be +studied in relation to their environment. I doubt if they show as many +external physical changes as little eating-foot _Odostomia_ on the slide +here, but there will be surely a number of psychological changes and +adjustments that will crop up. One of these might be the explanation of +their urge for planetary suicide." + +"That may be true--but I don't think so," Brion said. "I went on a +little expedition this morning and found something that has more +immediate relevancy." + +For the first time Lea became aware of his slightly battered condition. +Her drug-grooved mind could only follow a single idea at a time and had +overlooked the significance of the bandage and dirt. + +"I've been visiting," Brion said, forestalling the question on her lips. +"The magter are the ones who are responsible for causing the trouble, +and I had to see them up close before I could make any decision. It +wasn't a very pleasant thing, but I found out what I wanted to know. +They are different in every way from the normal Disans. I've compared +them. I've talked to Ulv--the native who saved us in the desert--and I +can understand him. He is not like us in many ways--he would certainly +have to be, living in this oven--but he is still undeniably human. He +gave us drinking water when we needed it, then brought help. The magter, +the upper-class lords of Dis, are the direct opposite. As cold-blooded +and ruthless a bunch of murderers as you can possibly imagine. They +tried to kill me when they met me, without reason. Their clothes, +habits, dwellings, manners--everything about them differs from that of +the normal Disan. More important, the magter are as coldly efficient +and inhuman as a reptile. They have no emotions, no love, no hate, +anger, fear--nothing. Each of them is a chilling bundle of thought +processes and reactions, with all the emotions removed." + +"Aren't you exaggerating?" Lea asked. "After all, you can't be sure. It +might just be part of their training not to reveal any emotional state. +Everyone must experience emotional states whether they like it or not." + +"That's my main point. Everyone does--except the magter. I can't go into +all the details now, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Even at +the point of death they have no fear or hatred. It may sound impossible, +but it is true." + + * * * * * + +Lea tried to shake the knots from her drug-hazed mind. "I'm dull today," +she said, "you'll have to excuse me. If these rulers had no emotional +responses, that might explain their present suicidal position. But an +explanation like this raises more new problems than it supplies answers +to the old ones. How did they get this way? It doesn't seem humanly +possible to be without emotions." + +"Just my point. Not _humanly_ possible. I think these ruling class +Disans aren't human at all, like the other Disans. I think they are +alien creatures--robots or androids--anything except men. I think they +are living in disguise among the normal human dwellers." + +First Lea started to smile, then she changed her mind when she saw his +face. "You are serious?" she asked. + +"Never more so. I realize it must sound as if I've had my brains bounced +around too much this morning. Yet this is the only idea I can come up +with that fits all of the facts. Look at the evidence yourself. One +simple thing stands out clearly, and must be considered first if any +theory is to hold up. That is the magters' complete indifference to +death--their own or anyone else's. Is that normal to mankind?" + +"No--but I can find a couple of explanations that I would rather explore +first, before dragging in an alien life form. There may have been a +mutation or an inherited disease that had deformed or warped their +minds." + +"Wouldn't that be sort of self-eliminating?" Brion asked. "Antisurvival? +People who die before puberty would find it a little difficult to pass +on a mutation to their children. But let's not beat this one point to +death--it's the totality of these people that I find so hard to accept. +Any one thing might be explained away, but not the collection of them. +What about their complete lack of emotion? Or their manner of dress and +their secrecy in general? The ordinary Disan wears a cloth kilt, while +the magter cover themselves as completely as possible. They stay in +their black towers and never go out except in groups. Their dead are +always removed so they can't be examined. In every way they act like a +race apart--and I think they are." + +"Granted for the moment that this outlandish idea might be true, how +did they get here? And why doesn't anyone know about it besides them?" + +"Easily enough explained," Brion insisted. "There are no written records +on this planet. After the breakdown, when the handful of survivors were +just trying to exist here, the aliens could have landed and moved in. +Any interference could have been wiped out. Once the population began to +grow the invaders found they could keep control by staying separate, so +their alien difference wouldn't be noticed." + +"Why should that bother them?" Lea asked. "If they are so indifferent to +death, they can't have any strong thoughts on public opinion or alien +body odor. Why would they bother with such a complex camouflage? And if +they arrived from another planet what has happened to the scientific +ability that brought them here?" + +"Peace," Brion said. "I don't know enough to even be able to guess at +answers to half those questions. I'm just trying to fit a theory to the +facts. And the facts are clear. The magter are so inhuman they would +give me nightmares--if I were sleeping these days. What we need is more +evidence." + +"Then get it," Lea said with finality. "I'm not telling you to turn +murderer--but you might try a bit of grave-digging. Give me a scalpel +and one of your fiends stretched out on a slab and I'll quickly tell you +what he is or is not." She turned back to the microscope and bent over +the eyepiece. + +That was really the only way to hack the Gordion knot. Dis had only +thirty-six more hours to live, so individual deaths shouldn't be of any +concern. He had to find a dead magter, and if none were obtainable in +the proper condition he had to violently get one of them that way. For a +planetary savior he was personally doing in an awful lot of the +citizenry. He stood behind Lea, looking down at her thoughtfully while +she worked. The back of her neck was turned up to him, lightly covered +with gently curling hair. With one of the about-face shifts the mind is +capable of his thoughts flipped from death to life, and he experienced a +strong desire to lightly caress this spot, to feel the yielding texture +of female flesh.... + +Plunging his hands deep into his pockets he walked quickly to the door. +"Get some rest soon," he called to her. "I doubt if those bugs will give +you the answer. I'm going now to see if I can get the full-sized +specimen you want." + +"The truth could be anywhere, I'll stay on these until you come back," +she said, not looking up from the microscope. + + * * * * * + +Up under the roof was a well-equipped communications room, Brion had +taken a quick look at it when he had first toured the building. The duty +operator had earphones on--though only one of the phones covered an +ear--and was monitoring through the bands. His shoeless feet were on the +edge of the table and he was eating a thick sandwich with his free +hand. His eyes bugged when he saw Brion in the doorway and he jumped +into a flurry of action. + +"Hold the pose," Brion told him, "it doesn't bother me. And if you make +any sudden moves you are liable to break a phone, electrocute yourself +or choke to death. Just see if you can set the transceiver on this +frequency for me." Brion wrote the number on a scratchpad and slid it +over to the operator. It was the frequency Professor-commander Krafft +had given him for the radio of the illegal terrorists--the Nyjord army. + +The operator plugged in a handset and gave it to Brion. "Circuit open," +he mumbled around a mouthful of still unswallowed sandwich. + +"This is Brandd, director of the C.R.F. Come in please." He went on +repeating this for more than ten minutes before he got an answer. + +"_What do you want?_" + +"I have a message of vital urgency for you--and I would also like your +help. Do you want any more information on the radio?" + +"_No. Wait there--we'll get in touch with you after dark._" The carrier +wave went dead. + +Thirty-five hours to the end of the world--and all he could do was wait. + + + + +XII + + +On Brion's desk when he came in, were two neat piles of paper. As he sat +down and reached for them he was conscious of an arctic coldness in the +air, a frigid blast. It was coming from the air-conditioner grille +which was now covered by welded steel bars. The control unit was sealed +shut. Someone was either being very funny or very efficient. Either way +it was cold. Brion kicked at the cover plate until it buckled, then bent +it aside. After a careful look into the interior he disconnected one +wire and shorted it to another. He was rewarded by a number of +sputtering cracks and a good quantity of smoke. The compressor moaned +and expired. + +Faussel was standing in the door with more papers and a shocked +expression. "What do you have there?" Brion asked. Faussel managed to +straighten out his face and brought the folders to the desk, arranging +them on the piles already there. + +"These are the progress reports you asked for, from all units. Details +to date, conclusions, suggestions, et cetera." + +"And the other pile?" Brion pointed. + +"Offplanet correspondence, commissary invoices, requisitions," he +straightened the edges of the stack while he answered. "Daily report, +hospital log--" His voice died away and stopped as Brion carefully +pushed the stack off the edge of the desk into the wastebasket. + +"In other words, red tape," Brion said. "Well it's all filed." + +One by one the progress reports followed the first stack into the +basket, until his desk was clear. Nothing. It was just what he had +expected. But there had always been the off-chance that one of the +specialists could come up with a new approach. They hadn't, they were +all too busy specializing. + +Outside the sky was darkening. The front entrance guard had been told to +let in anyone who came asking for the director. There was nothing else +Brion could do until the Nyjord rebels made contact. Irritation bit at +him. At least Lea was doing something constructive, he could look in on +her. + +He opened the door to the lab with a feeling of pleasant anticipation. +It froze and shattered instantly. Her microscope was hooded and she was +gone. _She's having dinner_, he thought, _or--she's in the hospital_. +The hospital was on the floor below and he went there first. + +"Of course she's here!" Dr. Stine grumbled. "Where else should a girl in +her condition be? She was out of bed long enough today. Tomorrow's the +last day, and if you want to get any more work out of her before the +deadline, you have better let her rest tonight. Better let the whole +staff rest. I've been handing out tranquilizers like aspirin all day. +They're falling apart." + +"The world's falling apart. How is Lea doing?" + +"Considering her shape she's fine. Go in and see for yourself if you +won't take my word for it. I have other patients to look at." + +"Are you that worried, doctor?" + +"Of course I am! I'm just as prone to the ills of the flesh as the rest +of you. We're sitting on a ticking bomb and I don't like it. I'll do my +job as long as it is necessary, but I'll also be glad to see the ships +land to pull us out. The only skin that I really feel emotionally +concerned about right now is my own. And if you want to be let in on a +public secret--the rest of your staff feels the same way. So don't look +forward to too much efficiency." + +"I never did," Brion said. + + * * * * * + +Lea's room was dark, illuminated only by the light of Dis' moon slanting +in the window. Brion let himself in and closed the door behind him. +Walking quietly he went over to the bed. She was sleeping soundly, her +breathing gentle and regular. A night's sleep now would do as much good +as all the medication. + +He should have gone then, instead he sat down in the chair placed next +to the head of the bed. The guards knew where he was, he could wait here +just as well as any place else. + +It was a stolen moment of peace on a world at the brink of destruction. +He was grateful for it. Everything looked less harsh in the moonlight +and he rubbed some of the tension from his eyes. Lea's face was ironed +smooth by the light, beautiful and young; a direct contrast to +everything else on this poisonous world. Her hand was outside of the +covers and he took it in his own, obeying a sudden impulse. Looking out +of the window at the desert in the distance, he let the peace wash over +him, forcing himself to forget for the moment that in one more day life +would be stripped from this planet. + +Later, when he looked back at Lea he saw that her eyes were open, though +she hadn't moved. How long had she been awake? He jerked his hand away +from hers, feeling suddenly guilty. + +"Is the boss-man looking after the serfs, to see if they're fit for the +treadmill in the morning?" she asked. It was the kind of remark she had +used with such frequency in the ship, though it didn't sound quite as +harsh now. And she was smiling. Yet it reminded him too well of her +superior attitude towards the rubes from the stellar sticks. Here he +might be the director, but on ancient Earth he would be only one more +gaping yokel. + +"How do you feel?" he asked, realizing and hating the triteness of the +words, even as he said them. + +"Terrible. I'll be dead by morning. Reach me a piece of fruit from that +bowl, will you? My mouth tastes like an old boot heel. Wonder how fresh +fruit ever got here? Probably a gift to the working classes from the +smiling planetary murderers on Nyjord," she took the apple Brion gave +her and bit into it. "Did you ever think of going to Earth?" + +Brion was startled, this was too close to his own thoughts about +planetary backgrounds. There couldn't possibly be a connection though. +"Never," he told her. "Up until a few months ago I never even considered +leaving Anvhar. The Twenties are such a big thing at home that it is +hard to imagine that anything else exists while you are still taking +part in them." + +"Spare me the Twenties," she pleaded. "After listening to you and Ihjel +I know far more about them than I shall ever care to know. But what +about Anvhar itself? Do you have big city-states like Earth?" + +"Nothing like that. For its size it has a very small population. No big +cities at all. I guess the largest centers of population are around the +schools, packing plants, things like that." + +"Any exobiologists there?" Lea asked, with a woman's eternal ability to +make any general topic personal. + +"At the universities, I suppose, though I wouldn't know for sure. And +you must realize that when I say no big cities, I also mean no little +cities. We aren't organized that way at all. I imagine the basic +physical unit is family and the circle of friends. Friends get important +quickly since the family breaks up when children are still relatively +young. Something in the genes I suppose, we all enjoy being alone. +Suppose you might call it an inbred survival trait." + +"Up to a point," she said, biting delicately into the apple. "Carry that +sort of thing too far and you end up with no population at all. A +certain amount of proximity is necessary for that." + +"Of course there is. And there must be some form of recognized +relationship or control--that or complete promiscuity. On Anvhar the +emphasis is on personal responsibility, and that seems to take care of +the problem. If we didn't have an adult way of looking at ... things, +our kind of life would be impossible. Individuals are brought together +either by accident or design, and with this proximity must be some +certainty of relations--" + +"You're losing me," Lea protested. "Either I'm still foggy from the dope +or you are suddenly unable to speak a word of less than four syllables +in length. You know--whenever this happens with you I get the distinct +impression that you are trying to cover up something. For Occam's sake +be specific! Bring together two of these hypothetical individuals and +tell me what happens." + + * * * * * + +Brion took a deep breath. He was in over his head and far from shore. +"Well--take a bachelor like myself. Since I like cross-country skiing I +make my home in this big house our family has, right at the edge of the +Broken Hills. In summer I looked after a drumtum herd, but after +slaughtering my time was my own all winter. I did a lot of skiing, and +used to work for the Twenties. Sometimes I would go visiting. Then +again, people would drop in on me--houses are few and far between on +Anvhar. We don't even have locks on our front doors. You accept and give +hospitality without qualification. Whoever comes. Male--female--in +groups or just traveling alone--" + +"I get the drift. Life must be dull for a single girl on your iceberg +planet, she must surely have to stay home a lot." + +"Only if she wants to. Otherwise she can go wherever she wishes and be +welcomed as another individual. I suppose it is out of fashion in the +rest of the galaxy--and would probably raise a big laugh on Earth--but a +platonic, disinterested friendship between man and woman is an accepted +thing on Anvhar." + +"Sounds exceedingly dull. If you are all such cool and distant friends, +what keeps your birthrate going?" + +Brion felt his ears flushing, not quite sure if he was being teased or +not. "There are plenty of happy marriages. But it is up to the woman +always to indicate if she is interested in a man. A girl who isn't +interested won't get any proposals. I imagine this is a lot different +from other planets--but so is our world. The system works well enough +for us." + +"Just about the opposite of Earth," Lea told him, dropping the apple +core into a dish and carefully licking the tips of her fingers. "I guess +you Anvharians would describe Earth as a planetary hotbed of sin. The +reverse of your system, and going full blast all the time. There are far +too many people there for comfort. Birth control came late and is still +being fought--if you can possibly imagine that. There are just too many +crack-brained ideas that have been long entrenched in custom. The +world's overcrowded. Men, women, children, a boiling mob wherever you +look. And all of the physically mature ones seem to be involved in the +Great Game of Love. The male is always the aggressor, and women take the +most outrageous kinds of flattery for granted. At parties these are +always a couple of hot breaths of passion fanning your neck. A girl has +to keep her spike heels filed sharp." + +"She has to _what_--?" + +"A figure of speech, Brion. Meaning you fight back all the time, if you +don't want to be washed under by the flood." + +"Sounds rather"--Brion weighed the word before he said it, but could +find none other suitable--"repellent." + +"From your point of view, it would be. I'm afraid we get so used to it +that we even take it for granted. Sociologically speaking--" She stopped +and looked at Brion's straight back and almost rigid posture. Her eyes +widened and her mouth opened in an unspoken _oh_ of sudden realization. + +"I'm being a fool," she said. "You weren't speaking generally at all! +You had a very specific subject in mind. Namely _me_!" + +"Please, Lea, you must understand--" + +"But I do!" she laughed. "All the time I thought you were being a frigid +and hard-hearted lump of ice, you were really being very sweet. Just +playing the game in good old Anvharian style. Waiting for a sign from +me. We'd still be playing by different rules if you hadn't had more +sense than I, and finally realized that somewhere along the line we must +have got our signals mixed. And I thought you were some kind of frosty +offworld celibate." She let her hand go out and her fingers rustled +through his hair. Something she had been wanting to do for a long time. + +"I had to," he said, trying to ignore the light touch of her fingers. +"Because I thought so much of you, I couldn't have done anything to +insult you. Until I began to worry where the insult would lie, since I +knew nothing about your planet's mores." + +"Well you know now," she said very softly. "The men aggress. Now that I +understand, I think I like your way better. But I'm still not sure of +all the rules. Do I explain that yes, Brion, I like you so very much? +You are more man, in one great big wide shouldered lump, than I have +ever met before--" + +His arms were around her, holding her to him, and their lips sought each +other's in the darkness. + + + + +XIII + + +"He wouldn't come in, sir. Just hammered on the door and said, _I'm +here, tell Brandd_." + +"Good enough," Brion said, seating his gun in the holster and sliding +the extra clips into his pocket. "I'm going out now, and I should return +before dawn. Get one of the wheeled stretchers down here from the +hospital. I'll want it waiting when I get back." + +Outside the street was darker than he remembered. Brion frowned and his +hand moved towards his gun. Someone had put all the nearby lights out of +commission. There was just enough illumination from the stars to enable +him to make out the dark bulk of a sandcar. + +The motor roared as soon as he had closed the door. Without lights the +sandcar churned a path through the city and out into the desert. Though +the speed picked up, the driver still drove in the dark, feeling his way +with a light touch on the controls. The ground rose, and when they +reached the top of a flat mesa he killed the engine. Neither the driver +nor Brion had spoken a word since they left. + +A switch snapped and the instrument lights came on. In their dim glow +Brion could just make out the other man's hawklike profile. When he +moved Brion saw that his figure was cruelly shortened. Either accident +or a mutated gene had warped his spine, hunching him forward in +eternally bent supplication. Warped bodies are rare--his was the first +Brion had ever seen. He wondered what series of events had kept him from +medical attention all his life. This might explain the bitterness and +pain in the man's voice. + +"Did the mighty brains on Nyjord bother to tell you that they have +chopped another day off the deadline? That this world is about to come +to an end?" + +"Yes, I know," Brion said. "That's why I'm asking your group for help. +Our time is running out too fast." + +The man didn't answer, merely grunted and gave his full attention to the +radar pings and glowing screen. The electronic senses reached out as he +made a check on all the search frequencies to see if they were being +followed. + +"Where are we going?" Brion asked. + +"Out into the desert," the driver made a vague wave of his hand. +"Headquarters of the army. Since the whole thing will be blown up in +another day, I guess I can tell you it's the only camp we have. All the +cars, men and weapons are based there. And Hys. He's the man in charge. +Tomorrow it will be all gone--along with this cursed planet. What's your +business with us?" + +"Shouldn't I be telling Hys that?" + +"Suit yourself." Satisfied with the instrument search the driver kicked +the car to life again and churned on across the desert. "But we're a +volunteer army and we have no secrets from each other. Just from the +fools at home who are going to kill this world." There was a bitterness +in his words that he made no attempt to conceal. "They fought among +themselves and put off a firm decision so long that now they are forced +to commit murder." + +"From what I had heard, I thought that it was the other way around. They +call your Nyjord Army terrorists." + +"We are. Because we are an army and we're at war. The idealists at home +only understood that when it was too late. If they had backed us in the +beginning, we would have blown open every black castle on Dis--searched +until we found those bombs. But that would have meant wanton destruction +and death. They wouldn't consider that. Now they are going to kill +everyone, destroy everything." He flicked on the panel lights just long +enough to take a compass bearing, and Brion saw the tortured unhappiness +in his twisted body. + +"It's not over yet," Brion said. "There is more than a day left, and I +think I'm onto something that might stop the war--without any bombs +being dropped." + +"You're in charge of the Cultural Relationships Free Bread and Blankets +Foundation, aren't you? What good can your bunch do when the shooting +starts?" + +"None. But maybe we can put off the shooting. If you are trying to +insult me--don't bother. My irritation quotient is very high." + +The driver just grunted at this, slowing down as they ran through a +field of broken rock. "What is it you want?" he asked. + +"We want to make a detailed examination of one of the magter. Alive or +dead, it doesn't make any difference. You wouldn't happen to have one +around?" + +"No. We've fought with them often enough, but always on their home +grounds. They keep all their casualties, and a good number of ours. What +good will it do you anyway? A dead one won't tell you where the bombs or +the jump-space projector is." + +"I don't see why I should explain that to you--unless you are in charge. +You are Hys, aren't you?" + + * * * * * + +The driver grunted angrily and was silent while he drove. Finally he +asked, "What makes you think that?" + +"Call it a hunch. You don't act very much like a sandcar driver for one +thing. Of course your army may be all generals and no privates--but I +doubt it. I also know that time has almost run out for all of us. This +is a long ride and it would be a complete waste of time if you just sat +out in the desert and waited for me. By driving me yourself you could +make your mind up before we arrived. Have a decision ready whether you +are going to help me or not. Are you?" + +[Illustration] + +"Yes--I'm Hys. But you still haven't answered my question. What do you +want the body for?" + +"We're going to cut it open and take a good long look. I don't think the +magter are human. They are something living among men and disguised as +men--but still not human." + +"Secret aliens?" Hys exploded the words in a mixture of surprise and +disgust. + +"Perhaps. The examination will tell us that." + +"You're either stupid or incompetent," Hys said bitterly. "The heat of +Dis has cooked your brains in your head. I'll be no part of this kind of +absurd plan." + +"You must," Brion said, surprised at his own calmness. He could sense +the other man's interest hidden behind his insulting manner. "I don't +even have to give you my reasons. In another day this world ends and you +have no way to stop it. I just might have an idea that could work and +you can't afford to take any chances--not if you are really sincere. +Either you are a murderer, killing Disans for pleasure, or you honestly +want to stop the war. Which is it?" + +"You'll have your body all right," Hys grated, hurling the car viciously +around a spire of rock. "Not that it will accomplish anything--but I can +find no fault in killing another magter. We can fit your operation into +our plans without any trouble. This is the last night and I have sent +every one of my teams out on raids. We're breaking into as many magter +towers as possible before dawn. There is a slim chance that we might +uncover something. It's really just shooting in the dark, but it's all +we can do now. My own team is waiting and you can ride along with us. +The others left earlier. We're going to hit a small tower on this side +of the city. We raided it once before and captured a lot of small arms +that they had stored there. There is a good chance that they may have +been stupid enough to store something there again. Sometimes the magter +seem to suffer from a complete lack of imagination." + +"You have no idea just how right you are," Brion told him. + +The sandcar slowed down now, as they approached a slab-sided mesa that +rose vertically from the desert. They crunched across broken rocks, +leaving no tracks. A light blinked on the dashboard and Hys stopped +instantly and killed the engine. They climbed out, stretching and +shivering in the cold desert night. + +It was dark walking in the shadow of the cliff and they had to feel +their way along a path through the tumbled boulders. A sudden blaze of +light made Brion wince and shield his eyes. Near him, on the ground, was +the humming shape of a cancellation projector, sending out a fan-shaped +curtain of vibration that absorbed all the light rays falling upon it. +This incredible blackness made a lightproof wall for the recessed hollow +at the foot of the cliff. In this shelter, under the overhang of rock, +were three open sandcars. They were large and armor-plated, warlike in +their scarred gray paint. Men sprawled, talked and polished their +weapons. Everything stopped when Hys and Brion appeared. + +"Load up," Hys called out. "We're going to attack now, same plan I +outlined earlier. Get Telt over here." Talking to his own men some of +the harshness was gone from his voice. The tall soldiers of Nyjord +moved in ready obedience to the commander. They loomed over his bent +figure, most of them twice as tall as him. Yet there was no hesitation +in jumping when he commanded. They were the body of the Nyjord striking +force--he was the brains. + +A square-cut, compact man rolled up to Hys and saluted with a leisurely +flick of his hand. He was weighted and slung about with packs and +electronic instruments. His pockets bulged with small tools. + +"This is Telt," Hys said to Brion, "he'll take care of you. Telt's my +personal technical squad. Goes along on all my operations with his +meters to test the interiors of the Disan forts. So far he's found no +trace of a jump-space generator, or excess radioactivity that might +indicate a bomb. Since he's useless and you're useless, you can both +take care of each other. Use the car we came in." + +Telt's wide face split in a frog-like grin, his voice was hoarse and +throaty. "Wait! Just wait! Some day those needles gonna flicker and all +our troubles be over. What you want me to do with the stranger?" + +"Supply him with a corpse--one of the magter," Hys said. "Take it where +he wants and then report back here." Hys scowled at Telt. "Some day your +needles will flicker! Poor fool--this is the last day." He turned away +and waved the men into their sandcars. + +"He likes me," Telt said, attaching a final piece of equipment. "You can +tell because he calls me names like that. He's a great man, Hys is, but +they never found out until it was too late. Hand me that meter, will +you?" + + * * * * * + +Brion followed the technician out to the car and helped him load his +equipment aboard. When the larger cars appeared out of the darkness, +Telt swung around after them. They snaked forward in a single line +through the rocks, until they came to the desert of rolling sand dunes. +Then they spread out in line abreast and rushed towards their goal. + +Telt hummed to himself hoarsely as he drove. He broke off suddenly and +looked at Brion. "What you want the dead Dis for?" + +"A theory," Brion answered sluggishly. He had been half napping in the +chair, taking the opportunity for some rest before the attack. "I'm +still looking for a way to avert the end." + +"You and Hys," Telt said with satisfaction. "Couple of idealists. Trying +to stop a war you didn't start. They never would listen to Hys. He told +them in the beginning exactly what would happen, and he was right. They +always thought his ideas were crooked, like him. Growing up alone in the +hill camp, with his back too twisted and too old to be fixed when he +finally did come out. Ideas twisted the same way. Made himself an +authority on war. Hah! War on Nyjord. That's like being an icecube +specialist in hell. But he knew all about it, but they never would let +him use what he knew. Put granddaddy Krafft in charge instead." + +"But Hys is in charge of an army now?" + +"All volunteers, too few of them and too little money. Too little and +too damned late to do any good. I'll never be good enough. And for this +we get called butchers." There was a catch in Telt's voice now, an +undercurrent of emotion he couldn't suppress. "At home they think we +like to kill. Think we're insane. They can't understand we're doing the +only thing that has to be done--" He broke off as he quickly locked on +the brakes and killed the engine. The line of sandcars had come to a +stop. Ahead, just visible over the dunes, was the summit of a dark +tower. + +"We walk from here," Telt said, standing and stretching. "We can take +our time because the other boys go in first, soften things up. Then you +and I head for the sub-cellar for a radiation check and find you a +handsome corpse." + +Walking at first, then crawling when the dunes no longer shielded them, +they crept up on the Disan keep. Dark figures moved ahead of them, +stopping only when they reached the crumbling black walls. They didn't +use the ascending ramp, but made their way up the sheer outside face of +the ramparts. + +"Linethrowers," Telt whispered. "Anchor themselves when the missile +hits, have some kind of quicksetting goo. Then we go up the filament +with a line-climbing motor. Hys invented them." + +"Is that the way you and I are going in?" Brion asked. + +"No, we get out of the climbing. I told you we hit this rock once +before. I know the layout inside." He was moving while he talked, +carefully pacing the distance around the base of the tower. "Should be +right about here." + +High-pitched keening sliced the air and the top of the magter building +burst into flame. Automatic weapons hammered above them. Something fell +silently through the night and hit heavily on the ground near them. + +"Attack's started," Telt shouted. "We have to get through now, while all +the creepies are fighting it out on top." He pulled a plate-shaped +object from one of his bags and slapped it hard against the wall. It +hung there. He twisted the back of it, pulled something and waved Brion +to the ground. "Shaped charge. Should blow straight in, but you never +can tell." + +The ground jumped under them and the ringing thud was a giant fist +punching through the wall. A cloud of dust and smoke rolled clear and +they could see the dark opening in the rock, a tunnel driven into the +wall by the directional force of the explosion. Telt shone a light +through the hole at the crumbled chamber inside. + +"Nothing to worry about from anybody who was leaning against this wall. +But let's get in and out of this black beehive before the ones upstairs +come down to investigate." + +Shattered rock was thick on the floor, and they skidded and tumbled over +it. Telt pointed the way with his light, down a sharply angled ramp. +"Underground chambers in the rock. They always store their stuff down +there--" + +A smoking, black sphere arced out of the tunnel's mouth, hitting at +their feet. Telt just gaped, but even as it hit the floor Brion was +jumping forward. He caught it with the side of his foot, kicking it back +into the dark opening of the tunnel. Telt hit the ground next to him as +the orange flame of an explosion burst below. Bits of shrapnel rattled +from the ceiling and wall behind them. + +"Grenades!" Telt gasped. "They only used them once before--can't have +many. Gotta warn Hys." He plugged a throat mike into the transmitter on +his back and spoke quickly into it. There was a stirring below and Brion +poured a rain of fire into the tunnel. + +"They're catching it bad on top, too! We gotta pull out. Go first and +I'll cover you." + +"I came for my Disan--I'm not leaving until I get one." + +"You're crazy! You're dead if you stay!" + + * * * * * + +Telt was scrambling back towards their crumbled entrance as he talked. +His back was turned when Brion fired. The magter appeared silently as +the shadow of death. They charged without a sound, running with +expressionless faces into the bullets. Two died at once, curling and +folding, the third one fell at Brion's feet. Shot, pierced, dying, but +not yet dead. Leaving a crimson track it hunched closer, lifting its +knife to Brion. He didn't move. How many times must you murder a man? +Or was it a man. His mind and body rebelled against the killing and was +almost ready to accept death himself, rather than kill again. + +Telt's bullets tore through the body and it dropped with grim finality. + +"There's your corpse--now get it out of here!" Telt screeched. + +Between them they worked the sodden weight of the dead magter through +the hole, their exposed backs crawling with the expectation of instant +death. There were no more attacks as they ran from the tower, other than +a grenade that exploded too far behind them to do any harm. + +One of the armored sandcars circled the keep, headlights blazing, +keeping up a steady fire from its heavy weapons. The attackers climbed +into it as they beat a retreat. Telt and Brion dragged the Disan behind +them, struggling through the loose sand toward the circling car. Telt +glanced over his shoulder and broke into a shambling run. + +"They're following us--!" he gasped. "The first time they ever chased us +after a raid!" + +"They must know we have the body," Brion said. + +"Leave it behind--!" Telt choked. "Too heavy to carry ... anyway!" + +"I'd rather leave you," Brion snapped. "Let me have it." He pulled the +corpse away from the unresisting Telt and heaved it across his +shoulders. "Now use your gun to cover us!" + +Telt threw a rain of slugs back towards the dark figures following +them. The driver must have seen the flare of their fire, because the +truck turned and started towards them. It braked in a choking cloud of +dust and ready hands reached to pull them up. Brion pushed the body in +ahead of himself and scrambled after it. The truck engine throbbed and +they churned away into the blackness, away from the gutted tower. + +"You know, that was more like kind of a joke, when I said I'd leave the +corpse behind," Telt told Brion. "You didn't believe me, did you?" + +"Yes," Brion said, holding the dead weight of the magter against the +truck's side. "I thought you meant it." + +"Ahhh--" Telt grumbled. "You're as bad as Hys. Take things too +seriously." + +Brion suddenly realized that he was wet with blood, his clothing sodden. +His stomach rose at the thought and he clutched the edge of the sandcar. +Killing like this was too personal. Talking abstractedly about a body +was one thing. But murdering a man, then lifting his dead flesh and +feeling his blood warm upon you is an entirely different matter. Yet the +magter weren't human, he knew that. The thought was only mildly +comforting. + + * * * * * + +After they had reached the rest of the waiting sandcars, the raiding +party split up. "Each one goes in a different direction," Telt said, "so +they can't track us to the base." He clipped a piece of paper next to +the compass and kicked the motor into life. "We'll make a big _U_ in the +desert and end up in Hovedstad, I got the course here. Then I'll dump +you and your friend and beat it back to our camp. You're not still +burned at me for what I said, are you? Are you?" + +Brion didn't answer. He was staring fixedly out of the side window. +"What's doing?" Telt asked. Brion pointed out at the rushing darkness. + +"Over there," he said, pointing to the growing light on the horizon. + +"Dawn," Telt said. "Lotta rain on your planet? Didn't you ever see the +sun come up before?" + +"Not on the last day of a world." + +"Lock it up," Telt grumbled. "You give me the crawls. I know they're +going to be blasted. But at least I know I did everything I could to +stop it. How do you think they are going to be feeling at home--on +Nyjord--from tomorrow on?" + +"Maybe we can still stop it?" Brion said, shrugging off the feeling of +gloom, Telt's only answer was a wordless sound of disgust. + +By the time they had cut a large loop in the desert the sun was high in +the sky, the daily heat begun. Their course took them through a chain of +low, flinty hills that cut their speed almost to zero. They ground ahead +in low gear while Telt sweated and cursed, struggling with the controls. +Then they were on firm sand and picking up speed towards the city. + +As soon as Brion saw Hovedstad clearly he felt a clutch of fear. From +somewhere in the city a black plume of smoke was rising. It could have +been one of the deserted buildings aflame, a minor blaze. Yet the closer +they came, the greater the tension grew. Brion didn't dare put it into +words himself, it was Telt who vocalized the thought. + +"A fire or something. Coming from your area, somewhere close to your +building." + +Within the city they saw the first signs of destruction. Broken rubble +on the streets. The smell of greasy smoke in their nostrils. More and +more people appeared, going in the same direction they were. The +normally deserted streets of Hovedstad were now almost crowded. Disans, +obvious by their bare shoulders, mixed with the few offworlders who +still remained. + +Brion made sure the tarpaulin was well wrapped around the body before +they pushed slowly through the growing crowd. + +"I don't like all this publicity," Telt complained, looking at the +people. "It's the last day, or I'd be turning back. They know our cars, +we've raided them often enough." Turning a corner he braked suddenly. + +Ahead was destruction. Black, broken rubble had been churned into +desolation. It was still smoking, pink tongues of flame licking over the +ruins. A fragment of wall fell with a rumbling crash. + +"It's your building--the Foundation building!" Telt shouted. "They've +been here ahead of us, must have used the radio to call a raid. They did +a job, explosive of some kind." + +Hope was dead. Dis was dead. In the ruin ahead, mixed and broken with +the other rubble, were the bodies of all the people who had trusted him. +Lea. Beautiful and cruelly dead Lea. Dr. Stine, his patients, Faussel, +all of them. He had kept them on this planet and now they were dead. +Every one of them. Dead. + +Murderer! + +[Illustration: Illustrated by van Dongen] + + + + +XIV + + +Life was ended. Brion's mind contained nothing but despair and the pain +of irretrievable loss. If his brain had been complete master of his body +he would have died there, for at that moment there was no will to live. +Unaware of this his heart continued to beat and the regular motion of +his lungs drew in the dreadful sweetness of the smoke-tainted air. With +automatic directness his body lived on. + +"What you gonna do?" Telt asked, even his natural exuberation stilled by +this. Brion only shook his head as the words penetrated. What could he +do? What could possibly be done? + +"Follow me," a voice said in guttural Disan through the opening of a +rear window. The speaker was lost in the crowd before they could turn. +Aware now, Brion saw a native move away from the edge of the crowd and +turn in their direction. It was Ulv. + +"Turn the car--that way!" He punched Telt's arm and pointed. "Do it +slowly and don't draw any attention to us." There was sudden hope, +which he kept himself from considering. The building was gone and the +people in it all dead. That fact had to be faced. + +"What's going on?" Telt asked. "Who was that talked in the window?" + +"A native--that one up ahead. He saved my life in the desert, and I +think he is on our side. Even though he's a native Disan, he can +understand facts that the magter can't. He knows what will happen to +this planet." Brion was talking, filling his brain with words so he +wouldn't begin to have hope. + +Ulv moved slowly and naturally through the streets, never looking back. +They followed, as far behind as they dared, yet still keeping him in +sight. There were fewer people about here among the deserted offworld +storehouses. Ulv vanished into one, LIGHT METALS TRUST LTD. the sign +read above the door. Telt slowed the car. + +"Don't stop here," Brion said. "Drive on around the corner, and pull +up." + +Brion climbed out of the car with an ease he did not feel. There was no +one in sight now, in either direction. Walking slowly back to the corner +he checked the street they had just left--hot, silent and empty! + +A sudden blackness appeared where the door of the warehouse had been, +and the sudden flickering motion of a hand. Brion signaled Telt to +start, and jumped into the already moving sandcar. + +"Into that open door--quickly before anyone sees us!" The car rumbled +down a ramp into the dark interior and the door slid shut behind them. + +"Ulv. What is it? Where are you?" Brion called, blinking in the murky +interior. A gray form appeared next to him. + +"I am here." + +"Did you--" There was no way to finish the sentence. + +"I heard of the raid. The magter called together all of us they could to +help them carry explosives. I went along. I could not stop them and +there was no time to warn anyone in the building." + +"Then they are all dead--?" + +"Yes," Ulv nodded, "all except one. I knew I could possibly save one, +and I was not sure who. So I took the woman you were with in the desert, +she is here now. She was hurt, but not badly, when I brought her out." + +Guilty relief flooded through Brion. He shouldn't exult, not with the +death of everyone in the Foundation still fresh in his mind. But at that +instant he was happy. + +"May I see her?" he asked Ulv. He was seized by the sudden fear that +there might be a mistake. Perhaps Ulv had saved a different girl. + + * * * * * + +Ulv led the way across the empty loading bay. Brion followed closely, +fighting down the temptation to tell him to hurry. When he saw that Ulv +was heading towards an office in the far wall, he could control himself +no longer and ran on ahead. + +It was Lea, lying unconscious on a couch. Sweat beaded her face and she +moaned and stirred without opening her eyes. + +"I gave her _sover_, then wrapped her in cloth so no one would know," +Ulv said. + +Telt was close behind them looking in through the open door. + +"_Sover_ is a drug they take from one of their plants," he said. "We got +a lot of experience with it. A little makes a good knock-out drug, but +it's deadly poison in large doses. I got the antidote in the car, wait +and I'll get it." He went out. + +Brion sat next to Lea and wiped her face clean of dirt and perspiration. +The dark shadows under her eyes were almost black now and her elfin face +even thinner. Yet she was alive, that was the important thing. Some of +the tension drained away and he could think again. There was still the +job to do. After this last experience she should be in a hospital bed. +Yet this was impossible. He had to drag her to her feet and put her back +to work. The answer might still be found. Each second ticked away +another fraction of the planet's life. + +"Good as new in a minute," Telt said, banging down the heavy medbox. He +watched intently as Ulv left the room. "Hys should know about this +renegade. Might be useful as a spy or for information. Of course it's +too late now to do anything, so the hell with it." He pulled a +pistol-shaped hypodermic gun from the box and dialed a number on the +side. "Now, if you'll roll her sleeve up I'll bring her back to life." +He pressed the bell-shaped sterilizing muzzle against her skin and +pulled the trigger. The hypo gun hummed briefly, ending its cycle with a +large click. + +"Does it work fast?" Brion asked. + +"Couple of minutes. Just let her be and she'll come to by herself." + +"Killer!" Ulv hissed from the doorway. His blowgun was in his hand, half +raised to his mouth. + +"He's been in the car--he's seen it!" Telt shouted and grabbed for his +gun. + +Brion sprang between them, raising his hands. "Stop it! No more +killing!" he shouted this in Disan. Then he shook his fist at Telt. +"Fire that gun and I'll stuff it down your throat. I'll handle this." He +turned to face Ulv who hadn't raised the blowgun any closer to his lips. +This was a good sign. The Disan was still uncertain. + +"You have seen the body in the car, Ulv. So you must have seen that it +is that of a magter. I killed him myself, because I would rather kill +one, ten or even a hundred men rather than have everyone on this planet +destroyed. I killed him in a fair fight and now I am going to examine +his body. There is something very strange and different about the +magter, you know that yourself. If I can find out what it is, perhaps we +can make them stop this war, and not bomb Nyjord." + +Ulv was still angry, yet he lowered the blowgun a little. "I wish there +were no offworlders, that none of you had ever come. Nothing was wrong +until you started coming. The magter were the strongest, and they +killed, but they also helped. Now they want to fight a war with your +weapons and for this you are going to kill my world. And you want me to +help you?" + +"Not me--yourself!" Brion said wearily. "There's no going back, that's +the one thing we can't do. Maybe Dis would have been better off without +offplanet contact. Maybe not. In any case you have to forget about that. +You have contact now with the rest of the galaxy, for better or for +worse. You've got a problem to solve, and I'm here to help you solve +it." + +Seconds ticked by as Ulv, unmoving, fought with questions that were +novel to his life. Could killing stop death? Could he help his people by +helping strangers to fight and kill them? His world had changed and he +didn't like it. He must make a giant effort to change with it. + +Abruptly, he pushed the blowgun into a thong at his waist, turned and +strode out. + +"Too much for my nerves," Telt said, settling his gun back in the +holster. "You don't know how happy I'm gonna be when this thing is over. +Even if the planet goes bang, I don't care. I'm finished." He walked out +to the sandcar, keeping a careful eye on the Disan crouched against the +wall. + + * * * * * + +Brion turned back to Lea whose eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. +He went to her. + +"Running," she said, and her voice had a toneless emptiness that +screamed louder than any emotion. "They ran by the open door of my room +and I could see them when they killed Dr. Stine. Just butchered him +like an animal, chopping him down. Then one came into the room and +that's all I remember." She turned her head slowly and looked at Brion. +"What happened? Why am I here?" + +"They're ... dead," he told her. "All of them. After the raid the Disans +blew up the building. You're the only one that survived. That was Ulv +who came into your room, the Disan we met in the desert. He brought you +away and hid you here in the city." + +"When do we leave?" she said, in the same empty tones, turning her face +to the wall. "When do we get off this planet?" + +"Today is the last day. The deadline is midnight. Krafft will have a +ship pick us up when we are ready. But we still have our job to do. I've +got that body. You're going to have to examine it. We must find out +about the magter--" + +"Nothing can be done now except leave," her voice was a dull monotone. +"There is only so much that a person can do and I've done it. Please +have the ship come, I want to leave now." + +Brion chewed his lip in helpless frustration. Nothing seemed to be able +to penetrate the apathy she had sunk into. Too much shock, too much +terror, in too short a time. He took her chin in his hand and turned her +head to face him. She didn't resist, but her eyes were shining with +tears, tears trickled down her cheeks. + +"Take me home, Brion, please take me home." + +He could only brush her sodden hair back from her face then and force +himself to smile at her. The particles of time were running out, faster +and faster, and he no longer knew what to do. The examination had to be +made. Yet he couldn't force her. He looked for the medbox and saw that +Telt had taken it back to the sandcar. There might be something in it +that could help. A tranquilizer perhaps. + +Telt had some of his instruments open on the chart table and was +examining a tape with a pocket magnifier. He jumped nervously and put +the tape behind his back when Brion entered, then relaxed when he saw +who it was. + +"Thought you were the creepie out there, coming for a look," he +whispered. "Maybe you trust him--but I can't afford to. Can't even use +the radio. I'm getting out of here now, I have to tell Hys!" + +"Tell him what?" Brion asked sharply. "What is all the mystery about?" + +Telt handed him the magnifier and tape. "Look at that. Recording tape +from my scintillation counter. Red verticals are five-minute intervals, +the wiggly black horizontal line is the radioactivity level. All this +where the line goes up and down, that's when we were driving out to the +attack. Varying hot level of the rock and ground." + +"What's the big peak in the middle?" + +"That coincides exactly with our visit to the house of horrors! When we +went through the hole in the bottom of the tower!" He couldn't keep the +enthusiasm out of his voice. + +"Does it mean that--" + +"I don't know. I'm not sure. I have to compare it with the other tapes +back at base. It could be the stone of the tower, some of these heavy +rocks got a high natural count. There maybe could be a box of +instruments there with fluorescent dials. Or it might be one of those +tactical atom bombs they threw at us already, some arms runner sold them +a few." + +"Or it could be the cobalt bombs?" + +"It could be," Telt said, packing his instruments swiftly. "A badly +shielded bomb, or an old one with a crack in the skin, could give a +trace like that. Just a little radon leaking out would do it." + +[Illustration] + +"Why don't you call Hys on the radio, let him know." + +"Don't want Grandaddy Krafft's listening posts to hear about it. This is +our job--if I'm right. And I have to check my old tapes to make sure. +But it's gonna be worth a raid, I can feel that in my bones. Let's +unload your corpse." He helped Brion, then slipped into the driver's +seat. + +"Hold it," Brion said. "Do you have anything in the medbox I can use for +Lea. She seems to have cracked. Not hysterical, but withdrawn. Won't +listen to reason, won't do anything but lie there and ask to go home." + +"Got the potion here," Telt said, cracking the medbox. +"Slaughter-syndrome is what our medic calls it. Hit a lot of our boys. +Grow up all your life hating the idea of violence, it goes rough when +you have to start killing people. Guys breakup, breakdown, go to pieces +lots of different ways. The medic mixed up this stuff. Don't know how it +works, probably tranquilizers and some of the cortex drugs. But it peels +off recent memories. Maybe for the last ten, twelve hours. You can't get +upset about what you don't remember." He pulled out a sealed package. +"Directions on the box. Good luck." + +"Luck," Brion said, and shook the technician's calloused hand. "Let me +know if the traces are strong enough to be bombs." He checked the street +to make sure it was clear, then pressed the door button. The sandcar +churned out into the brilliant sunshine and was gone, the throb of it's +motor dying in the distance. Brion closed the door and went back to Lea. +Ulv was still crouched against the wall. + + * * * * * + +There was a one-shot disposable hypodermic in the box. Lea made no +protest when he broke the seal and pressed the needle against her arm. +She sighed and her eyes closed again. When he saw she was resting +easily, he dragged in the tarpaulin-wrapped body of the magter. A +workbench ran along one wall and he struggled the corpse up onto it. He +unwrapped the tarpaulin and the sightless eyes stared accusingly up into +his. + +Using his knife, Brion cut away the loose, bloodsoaked clothing. +Strapped under the clothes, around the man's waist, was the familiar +collection of Disan artifacts. This could have significance either way. +Human or humanoid, it would still have to live on Dis. Brion threw it +aside, along with the rest of the clothing. Nude, pierced, bloody, the +corpse lay before him. + +In every external physical detail the man was human. + +Brion's theory was becoming more preposterous with each discovery. If +the magter weren't alien, how could he explain their complete lack of +emotions? A mutation of some kind? He didn't see how it was possible. +There _had_ to be something alien, about the dead man before him. The +future of a world rested on this flimsy hope. If Telt's lead to the +bombs proved to be false, there would be no hope left at all. + +Lea was still unconscious when he looked at her. There was no way of +telling how long the coma would last. He would probably have to waken +her out of it, but didn't want to do it too early. It took an effort to +control his impatience, even though he knew the drug needed time to work +in. He finally decided on at least a minimum of an hour before he should +try to disturb her. That would be noon--twelve hours before destruction. + +One thing he should do was get in touch with Professor-Commander Krafft. +Maybe it was being defeatist, yet he had to make sure that they had a +way off this planet if the mission failed. Krafft had installed a relay +radio that would forward calls from his personal set. If this relay had +been in the Foundation building, contact was broken. This had to be +found out before it was too late. He thumbed on his radio and sent the +call. The reply came back instantly. + +"This is fleet communications. Will you please keep this circuit open? +Commander Krafft is waiting for this call and it is being put directly +through to him now." Krafft's voice broke in while the operator was +still talking. + +"Who is making this call--is it anyone from the Foundation?" The old +man's voice was shaky with emotion. + +"Brandd here. I have Lea Morees with me--" + +"No more? Are there no other survivors from the disaster that destroyed +your building?" + +"That's it, other than us it's a ... complete loss. With the building +and all the instruments gone I have no way to contact our ship in orbit. +Can you arrange to get us out of here if necessary?" + +"Give me your location, a ship is coming now--" + +"I don't need a ship now," Brion interrupted. "Don't send it until I +call. If there is a way to stop your destruction, I'll find it. So I'm +staying--to the last minute if necessary." + +Krafft was silent. There was just the crackle of an open mike and the +sound of breathing. "That is your decision," he said finally. "I'll have +a ship standing by. But won't you let us take Miss Morees out now?" + +"No. I need her here. We are still working, looking for--" + +"What answer can you find that could possibly avert destruction now?" +His tone was between hope and despair. Brion couldn't help him. + +"If I succeed--you'll know. Otherwise, that will be the end of it. End +of transmission." He switched the radio off. + +Lea was sleeping easily when he looked at her, and there was still a +good part of the hour left before he could wake her. How could he put it +to use? She would need tools, instruments to examine the corpse, there +were certainly none here. Perhaps there were some he could find in the +ruins of the Foundation building. With this thought he had the sudden +desire to see the wreckage up close, and talk to the men he had seen +working there. There might be other survivors. He had to find out. + +Ulv was still crouched against the wall in the outer room. He looked up +angrily when Brion came over, but said nothing. + +"Will you help me again?" Brion asked. "Stay and watch the girl while I +go out. I'll be back at noon." Ulv didn't answer. "I am still looking +for the way to save Dis," Brion said. + +"Go, I'll watch the girl!" Ulv spat the words in impotent fury. "I do +not know what to do. You may be right. Go. She will be safe with me." + +Brion slipped out into the deserted street and half running, half +walking, made his way towards the rubble that had been the Cultural +Relationships Foundation. He used a different course than the one they +had come by, striking first towards the outer edge of the city. Once +there he could swing and approach from the other side, so there would be +no indication where he had come from. The magter might be watching and +he didn't want to lead them to Lea and the stolen body. + +Turning a corner he saw a sandcar stopped in the street ahead. There was +something familiar about the lines of it. It could be the one he and +Telt had used, but he wasn't sure. He looked around, but the dusty, +packed-dirt street was white and empty, shimmering in silence under the +sun. Staying close to the wall and watching carefully, Brion slipped +towards the car. When he came close to the rear tracks he was positive +it was the one he had been in the night before. What was it doing here? + +Silence and heat filled the street. Windows and doors were empty and +there was no motion in their shadows. Putting his foot on a bogey wheel +he reached up and grabbed the searing metal rim of the open window. He +pulled himself up and stared at Telt's smiling face. + +Smiling in death. The lips pulled back to reveal the grinning teeth, the +eyes bursting from the head, the features swollen and contorted from the +deadly poison. A tiny, tufted dart of wood stuck innocently in the brown +flesh on the side of his neck. + + + + +XV + + +Brion hurled himself backward and sprawled flat in the dust and filth +of the road. No poison dart sought him out, the empty silence still +reigned. Telt's murderers had come and gone. Moving quickly, using the +bulk of the car as a shield, he opened the door and slipped inside. + +They had done a thorough job of destruction. All of the controls had +been battered into uselessness, the floor was a junk heap of crushed +equipment, intertwined with loops of recording tape bulging like +mechanical intestines. A gutted machine, destroyed like its driver. + +It was easy enough to reconstruct what had happened. The car had been +seen when they entered the city--probably by some of the magter who had +destroyed the Foundation building. They had not seen where it had gone, +or Brion would surely be dead by now. But they must have spotted it when +Telt tried to leave the city. And stopped it in the most effective way +possible, a dart through the open window into the unsuspecting driver's +neck. + +Telt dead. The brutal impact of the man's death had driven all thought +of its consequences from Brion's mind. Now he began to realize. Telt had +never sent word of his discovery of the radioactive trace to the Nyjord +army. He had been afraid to use the radio, and had wanted to tell Hys in +person, and to show him the tape. Only now the tape was torn and mixed +with all the others, the brain that could have analyzed it dead. + +Brion looked at the dangling entrails of the radio and spun for the +door. Running swiftly and erratically he fled from the sandcar. His own +survival and the possible survival of Dis depended on his not being seen +near it. He must contact Hys and pass on the information. Until he did +that he was the only offworlder on Dis who knew which magter tower might +contain the world-destroying bombs. + +Once out of sight of the sandcar he went slower, wiping the sweat from +his streaming face. He hadn't been seen leaving the car, and he wasn't +being followed. The streets here weren't familiar, but he checked his +direction by the sun and walked at a steady fast pace towards the +destroyed building. More of the native Disans were in the streets now. +They all noticed him, some even stopped and scowled fiercely. With his +empathic awareness he felt their anger and hatred. A knot of men +radiated death and he put his hand on his gun as he passed them. Two of +them had their blowguns ready, but didn't use them. By the time he had +turned the next corner he was soaked with nervous perspiration. + +Ahead was the rubble of the destroyed building. Grounded next to it was +the tapered form of a spacer's pinnace. Two men had come from the open +lock and were standing at the edge of the burnt area. + + * * * * * + +Brion's boots grated loudly on the broken wreckage. The men turned +quickly towards him, guns raised. Both of them carried ion-rifles. They +relaxed when they saw his offworld clothes. + +"Savages," one of them growled. He was a heavyplanet man, a squashed +down column of muscle and gristle, whose head barely reached Brion's +chest. A pushed-back cap had the crossed-sliderule symbol of ship's +computer man. + +"Can't blame them, I guess," the second man said. He wore purser's +insignia. His features were different, but with the same compacted body +they were as physically alike as twins. Probably from the same home +planet. "They gonna get their whole world blown from under them at +midnight. Looks like the poor slob in the streets finally realized what +is happening. Hope we're in jump-space by then. I saw Estrada's World +get it and I don't want to see that again, not twice in one lifetime!" + +The computer man was looking closely at Brion, head tilted sideways to +see his face. "You need transportation offworld?" he asked. "We're the +last ship at the port, and we're going to boil out of here as soon as +the rest of our cargo is aboard. Give you a lift if you need it." + +Only by a tremendous effort at control did Brion conceal the destroying +sorrow that overwhelmed him when he looked at that shattered wasteland, +the graveyard of so many. "No," he said. "That won't be necessary. I'm +in touch with the blockading fleet and they'll pick me up before +midnight." + +"You from Nyjord?" the purser growled. + +"No," Brion said, still only half aware of the men. "But there is +trouble with my own ship." He realized that they were looking intently +at him, that he owed them some kind of explanation. "I thought I could +find a way to stop the war. Now ... I'm not so sure." He hadn't intended +to be so frank with the spacemen, but the words had been topmost in his +thoughts and had simply slipped out. + +The computer man started to say something, but his shipmate speared him +in the side with his elbow. "We blast soon--and I don't like the way +these Disans are looking at us. Captain said to find out what caused the +fire, then get back. So let's go." + +"Don't miss your ship," the computer man said to Brion and started for +the pinnace. Then he hesitated and turned. "Sure there's nothing we can +do for you." + +Sorrow would accomplish nothing. Brion fought to sweep the dregs of +emotion from his mind and to think clearly. "You can help me," he said. +"I could use a scalpel or any other surgical instruments you might +have." Lea would need those. Then he remembered Telt's undelivered +message. "Do you have a portable radio transceiver--I can pay you for +it." + +The computer man vanished inside the rocket and reappeared a minute +later with a small package. "There's a scalpel and a magnetized tweezers +in here, all I could find in the medkit. Hope they'll do." He reached +inside and swung out the metal case of a self-contained transceiver. +"Take this, it's got plenty of range, even on the longer frequencies." +He raised his hand at Brion's offer to pay. "My donation," he said. "If +you can save this planet, I'll give you the whole pinnace as well. We'll +tell the captain we lost the radio in some trouble with the natives. +Isn't that right, Moneybags?" He prodded the purser in the chest with a +finger that would have punched a hole in a weaker man. + +"I read you loud and clear," the purser said. "I'll make out an invoice +so stating, back in the ship." They were both in the pinnace then, and +Brion had to move fast to get clear of the take-off blast. + + * * * * * + +Sense of obligation, the spacemen had felt it too. The realization of +this raised Brion's spirits a bit as he searched through the rubble for +anything useful. He recognized part of a wall still standing as a corner +of the laboratory. Poking through the ruins he unearthed broken +instruments and a single, battered case that had barely missed +destruction. Inside was the binocular microscope, the right tube bent, +its lenses cracked and obscured. The left eyepiece still seemed to be +functioning. Brion carefully put it back in the case. He looked at his +watch. + +It was almost noon. These few pieces of equipment would have to do for +the dissection. Watched suspiciously by the onlooking Disans, he started +back to the warehouse. It was a long, circuitous walk, since he didn't +dare give any clues to his destination. Only when he was positive he had +not been observed or followed did he slip through the building's +entrance, locking it behind him. + +Lea's frightened eyes met his when he went into the office. "A friendly +smile here among the cannibals," she called. Her strained expression +gave the lie to the cheeriness of her words. "What has happened? Since I +woke up, the great stone face over there," she pointed to Ulv, "has been +telling me exactly nothing." + +"What's the last thing you can remember?" Brion asked carefully. He +didn't want to tell her too much, less this bring on the shock again. +Ulv had shown great presence of mind in not talking to her. + +"If you must know," Lea said, "I remember quite a lot, Brion Brandd. I +shan't go into details, since this sort of thing is best kept from the +natives. For the record then, I can recall going to sleep after you +left. And nothing since then. It's weird. I went to sleep in that lumpy +hospital bed and woke up on this couch. Feeling simply terrible. With +_him_ just simply sitting there and scowling at me. Won't you please +tell me what is going on?" + +A partial truth was best, saving all of the details that he could for +later. "The magter attacked the Foundation building," he said. "They are +getting angry at all offworlders now. You were still knocked out by a +sleeping drug, so Ulv helped bring you here. It's afternoon now--" + +"Of the last day?" She sounded horrified. "While I'm playing sleeping +beauty the world is coming to an end. Was anyone hurt in the attack? Or +killed?" + +"There were a number of casualties--and plenty of trouble," Brion said. +He had to get her off the subject. Walking over to the corpse he threw +back the cover from its face. "But this is more important right now. +It's one of the magter. I have a scalpel and some other things +here--will you perform an autopsy?" + +Lea huddled back on the couch, her arms around herself, looking chilled +in spite of the heat of the day. "What happened to the people at the +building?" she asked in a thin voice. The injection had removed her +memories of the tragedy, but echoes of the strain and shock still +reverberated in her mind and body. "I feel so ... exhausted. Please tell +me what happened. I have the feeling you're hiding something." + +Brion sat next to her and took her hands in his, not surprised to find +them cold. Looking into her eyes he tried to give her some of his +strength. "It wasn't very nice," he said. "You were shaken up by it, I +imagine that's why you feel the way you do now. But--Lea, you'll have to +take my word for this. Don't ask any more questions. There's nothing we +can do now about it. But we can still find out about the magter. Will +you examine the corpse?" + +She tried to ask something, then changed her mind. When she dropped her +eyes Brion felt the thin shiver that went through her body. "There's +something terribly wrong," she said. "I know that. I guess I'll have to +take your word that it's best not to ask questions. Help me up, will +you, darling? My legs are absolutely liquid." + +Leaning on him, with his arm around her supporting most of her weight, +she went slowly across to the corpse. She looked down and shuddered. +"Not what you would call a natural death," she said. Ulv watched +intently as she took the scalpel out of its holder. "You don't have to +look at this," she told him in halting Disan. "Not if you don't want +to." + +"I want to," he told her, not taking his eyes from the body. "I have +never seen a magter dead before, or without covering, like ordinary +people." He continued to stare fixedly. + +"Find me some drinking water, will you Brion," Lea said. "And spread the +tarp under the body. These things are quite messy." + + * * * * * + +After drinking the water she seemed stronger, and could stand without +holding onto the table with both hands. Placing the tip of the scalpel +just below the magter's breast bone, she made the long continuous +post-mortem incision down to the pubic symphysis. The great, body-length +wound gaped open like a red mouth. Across the table Ulv shuddered but +didn't avert his eyes. + +One by one she dissected the internal organs and removed them. Once she +looked up at Brion, then quickly returned to work. The silence stretched +on and on until Brion had to break it. + +"Tell me, can't you. Have you found out anything?" + +His words snapped the thin strand of her strength, and she staggered +back to the couch and collapsed on to it. Her blood-stained hands hung +over the side, making a strangely terrible contrast to the whiteness of +her skin. + +"I'm sorry, Brion," she said. "But there's nothing, nothing at all. +There are minor differences, organic changes I've never seen before--his +liver is tremendous for one thing. But changes like this are certainly +consistent within the pattern of Homo sapiens as adopted to a different +planet. He's a man. Changed, adopted, modified--but still just as human +as you or I." + +"How can you be sure?" Brion broke in. "You haven't examined him +completely, have you?" She shook her head now. "Then go on. The other +organs. His brain. A microscopic examination. Here!" he said, pushing +the microscope case towards her with both hands. + +She dropped her head onto her forearms and sobbed. "Leave me alone, +can't you! I'm tired and sick and fed up with this awful planet. Let +them die. I don't care! Your theory is false, useless. Admit that! And +let me wash the filth from my hands--" Sobbing drowned out her words. + +Brion stood over her and drew in a shuddering breath. Was he wrong? He +didn't dare think about that. He had to go on. Looking down at the +thinness of her bent back, with the tiny projections of her spine +pushing through the thin cloth, he felt an immense pity--a pity he +couldn't surrender to. This thin, helpless, frightened woman was his +only resource. She had to work. He had to _make_ her work. + +Ihjel had done it. Used projective empathy to impress his emotions upon +Brion. Now Brion must do it with Lea. There had been some sessions in +the art, but not nearly enough to make him proficient. Nevertheless he +had to try. + +Strength was what Lea needed. Aloud he said simply "You can do it. You +have the will and the strength to finish." And silently his mind cried +out the order to obey, to share his power now that hers was drained and +finished. + +Only when she lifted her face and he saw the dried tears did he realize +that he had succeeded. "You will go on?" he asked simply. + +Lea merely nodded and rose to her feet. She shuffled like a +sleep-walker, jerked along by invisible strings. Her strength wasn't her +own and it reminded him unhappily of that last event of the Twenties +when he had experienced the same kind of draining activity. Wiping her +hands roughly on her clothes she opened the microscope case. + +"The slides are all broken," she said. + +"This will do," Brion told her, crashing his heel through the glass +partition. Shards tinkled and crashed to the floor. He took some of the +bigger pieces and broke them to rough squares that would fit under the +clips on the stage. Lea accepted them without a word. Putting a drop of +the magter's blood on the slide she bent over the eyepiece. + + * * * * * + +Her hands shook when she tried to adjust the focusing. Using low power +she examined the specimen, squinting through the angled tube. Once she +turned the substage mirror a bit to catch direct the light streaming in +the window. Brion stood behind her, fists clenched, forcefully +controlling his anxiety. "What do you see?" he finally blurted out. + +"Phagocytes, platelets ... leucocytes ... everything seems normal." Her +voice was dull, exhausted, her eyes blinking with fatigue as she stared +into the tube. + +Anger at defeat burned through Brion. Even faced with failure he refused +to accept it. He reached over her shoulder and savagely twisted the +turret of microscope until the longest lens was in position. "If you +can't see anything--try the high power! It's there--I know it's there! +I'll get you a tissue specimen." He turned back to the disemboweled +cadaver. + +His back was turned and he did not see the sudden stiffening of her +shoulders, or the sudden eagerness that seized her fingers as they +adjusted the focus. But he did feel the wave of emotion that welled from +her, impinging directly on his empathic sense. "What is it?" he called +to her, as if she had spoken aloud. + +"Something ... something here," she said, "in this leucocyte. It's not a +normal structure, but it's familiar. I've seen something like it before, +but I just can't remember." She turned away from the scope and +unthinkingly pressed her gory knuckles to her forehead. "I know I've +seen it before." + +Brion squinted into the deserted microscope and made out a dim shape in +the center of the field. It stood out sharply when he focused--the +white, jellyfish shape of a single-celled leucocyte. To his untrained +eye there was nothing unusual about it. He couldn't know what was +strange--when he had no idea of what was normal. + +[Illustration] + +"Do you see those spherical green shapes grouped together?" Lea asked. +Before Brion could answer she gasped "I remember now!" Her fatigue was +forgotten in her excitement. "_Icerya purchasi_ that was the name, +something like that. It's a coccid, a little scale insect. It had those +same shapes collected together within its individual cells." + +"What do they mean? What is the connection with Dis?" + +"I don't know," she said, "it's just that they look so similar. And I +never saw anything like this in a human cell before. In the coccids, the +green particles grow into a kind of yeast that lives within the insect. +Not a parasite, but a real symbiote--" + +Her eyes opened wide as she caught the significance of her own words. A +symbiote--and Dis was the world where symbiosis and parasitism had +become more advanced and complex than on any other planet. Lea's +thoughts spun around this fact and chewed at the fringes of the logic. +Brion could sense her concentration and absorption. He did nothing to +break the mood. Her hands were clenched into fists, her eyes staring +unseeingly at the wall as her mind raced. + + * * * * * + +Brion and Ulv sat quietly, watching her, waiting for her conclusions. +The pieces were falling into shape at last. + +Lea opened her clenched fists and smoothed them on her sodden skirt. She +blinked and turned until she saw Brion. "Is there a tool box here?" she +asked. + +Her words were so unexpected that it took Brion a moment to answer. +Before he could say anything she spoke again. + +"No hand tools, it would take too long. Could you find anything like a +power saw--that would be ideal?" She turned back to the microscope, so +he didn't have any opportunity to question her. Ulv was still looking at +the body of the magter and had understood nothing of what they had said. +Brion went out into the loading bay. + +There was nothing he could use on the ground floor, so he took the +stairs to the floor above. A corridor here passed by a number of rooms. +All of the doors were locked, including one with the hopeful sign TOOL +ROOM on it. He battered at the metal door with his shoulder without +budging it. As he stopped to look for a way in he glanced at his watch. + +Two o'clock! In ten hours the bombs would fall on Dis. + +The need for haste tore at him. Yet there could be no noise--someone in +the street might hear it. He quickly stripped off his shirt and wrapped +it in a loose roll around the barrel of his gun, extending it in a loose +tube in front of the barrel. Holding the rolled cloth in his left hand, +he jammed the gun up tight against the door, the muzzle against the +lock. The single shot was only a dull thud, inaudible outside of the +building. Pieces of broken mechanism jarred and rattled inside the lock +and the door swung open. + +Lea was standing by the body when he came back, holding up the small +power saw with a rotary blade. "Will this do?" he asked. "Runs off its +own battery, almost fully charged, too." + +"Perfect," she answered. "You're both going to have to help me." She +switched into the Disan language. "Ulv, would you find some place where +you can watch the street without being seen. Signal me when it is empty. +I'm afraid this saw is going to make a lot of noise." + +Ulv nodded and went out into the bay, climbing a heap of empty crates so +he could peer through the small windows set high in the wall. He looked +carefully in both directions, then waved to her to go ahead. + +"Stand to one side and hold the cadaver's chin, Brion," she said. "Hold +it firmly so the head doesn't shake around when I cut. This is going to +be a little gruesome. I'm sorry. But it'll be the fastest way to cut +the bone." The saw bit into the skull. + +Once Ulv waved them into silence, and shrank back himself into the +shadows next to the window. They waited impatiently until he gave them a +sign to continue again. Brion held steady while the saw cut a circle +completely around the skull. + +"Finished," Lea said and the saw dropped from her limp fingers to the +floor. She massaged life back into her hands before she finished the +job. Carefully and delicately she removed the cap of bone from the +magter's head, exposing his brain to the shaft of light from the window. + +"You were right all the time, Brion," she said. "There is your alien." + + + + +XVI + + +Ulv joined them as they looked down at the exposed brain of the magter. +The thing was so clearly evident that even Ulv noticed it. + +"I have seen dead animals and my people dead with their heads open, but +I have never seen anything like that before," he said. + +"What is it?" Brion asked. + +"The invader, the alien you were looking for," Lea told him. + +The magter's brain was only two-thirds of its normal size. Instead of +filling the skull completely, it shared the space with a green, +amorphous shape. This was ridged somewhat like a brain, but the green +shape had still darker nodules and extensions. Lea took her scalpel and +gently prodded the dark moist mass. + +"It reminds me very much of something that I've seen before on Earth," +she said. "The green-fly--_Drepanosiphum platanoides_--and an unusual +organ it has, called the pseudova. Now that I have seen this growth in +the magter's skull I can think of a positive parallel. The fly +_Drepanosiphum_ also has a large green organ, only it fills half of the +body cavity instead of the head. Its identity puzzled biologists for +years, and they had a number of complex theories to explain it away. +Finally someone managed to dissect and examine it. The pseudova turned +out to be a living plant, a yeastlike growth that helps with the +green-fly's digestion. It produces enzymes that enable the fly to digest +the great amounts of sugar it gets from plant juice." + +"That's not unusual," Brion said, puzzled. "Termites and human beings +are a couple of other creatures whose digestion is helped by internal +flora. What's the difference in the green-fly?" + +"Reproduction, mainly. All the other gut-living plants have to enter the +host and establish themselves as outsiders, permitted to remain as long +as they are useful. The green-fly and its yeast plant have a permanent +symbiotic relationship that is essential to the existence of both. The +plant spores appear in many places throughout the fly's body--but they +are _always_ in the germ cells. Every egg cell has some, and every egg +that grows to maturity is infected with the plant spores. The +continuation of the symbiosis is unbroken and guaranteed. + +"Do you think those green spheres in the magter's blood cells could be +the same kind of thing?" Brion asked. + +"I'm sure of it," Lea said. "It must be the same process. There are +probably green spheres throughout the magters' bodies, spores or +offspring of those things in their brains. Enough will find their way to +the germ cells to make sure that every young magter is infected at +birth. While the child is growing--so is the symbiote. Probably a lot +faster since it seems to be a simpler organism. I imagine it is well +established in the brain pan within the first six months of the infant's +life." + +"But why?" Brion asked. "What does it do?" + +"I'm only guessing now, but there is plenty of evidence that gives us an +idea of its function. I'm willing to bet that the symbiote itself is not +a simple organism, it's probably an amalgam of plant and animal like +most of the other creatures on Dis. The thing is just too complex to +have developed since mankind has been on this planet. The magter must +have caught the symbiotic infection by eating some Disan animal. The +symbiote lived and flourished in its new environment. Well protected by +a bony skull in a long-lived host. In exchange for food, oxygen and +comfort, the brain-symbiote must generate hormones and enzymes that +enable the magter to survive. Some of these might aid digestion, +enabling the magter to eat any plant or animal life they can lay their +hands on. The symbiote might produce sugars, scavenge the blood of +toxins--there are so many things it could do. Things it must have done, +since the magter are obviously the dominant life form on this planet. +They paid a high price for their symbiote, but it didn't really matter +to race-survival until now. Did you notice that the magter's brain is no +smaller than normal?" + +"It must be--or how else could that brain-symbiote fit in inside the +skull with it?" Brion said. + +"If the magter's total brain were smaller in volume than normal, it +could fit into the remaining space in the cranial hollow. But the brain +is full-sized--it is just that part of it is missing, absorbed by the +symbiote." + +"The frontal lobes," Brion said with sudden realization. "This hellish +growth has performed a prefrontal lobotomy!" + + * * * * * + +"It's done even more than that," Lea said, separating the convolutions +of the gray matter with her scalpel to uncover a green filament beneath. +"These tendrils penetrate farther back into the brain, but always remain +in the cerebrum. The cerebellum appears to be untouched. Apparently just +the higher functions of mankind have been interfered with, selectively. +Destruction of the frontal lobes made the magter creatures without +emotions or ability for really abstract thought. Apparently they +survived better without these. There must have been some horrible +failures before the right balance was struck. The final product is a +man-plant-animal symbiote that is admirably adapted for survival on +this disaster world. No emotions to cause complications or desires that +might interfere with pure survival. Complete ruthlessness--mankind has +always been strong on this anyway, so it didn't take much of a push." + +"The other Disans, like Ulv here, managed to survive without turning +into such a creature. So why was it necessary for the magter to go so +far?" + +"Nothing is necessary in evolution, you know that," Lea said. "Many +variations are possible and all the better ones continue. You might say +that Ulv's people survive, but the magter survive better. If offworld +contact hadn't been re-established, I imagine that the magter would +slowly have become the dominant race. Only they won't have the chance +now. It looks as though they have succeeded in destroying both races +with their suicidal urge." + +"That's the part that doesn't make sense," Brion said. "The magter have +survived and climbed right to the top of the evolutionary heap here. Yet +they are suicidal. How come they haven't been wiped out before this?" + +"Individually they have been aggressive to the point of suicide. They +will attack anything and everything with the same savage lack of +emotion. Luckily there are no bigger animals on this planet. So where +they have died as individuals, their utter ruthlessness has guaranteed +their survival as a group. Now they are faced with a problem that is too +big for their half-destroyed minds to handle. Their personal policy has +become their planetary policy--and that's never a very smart thing. They +are like men with knives who have killed all the men who were only armed +with stones. Now they are facing men with guns and they are going to +keep charging and fighting until they are all dead." + +"It's a perfect case of the utter impartiality of the forces of +evolution. Men infected by this Disan life form were the dominant +creatures on this planet. The creature in the magters' brains was a true +symbiote then, giving something and receiving something. Making a union +of symbiotes where all were stronger together than any could be +separately. Now this is changed. The magter brain cannot understand the +concept of racial death, in a situation where it must understand to be +able to survive. Therefore, the brain-creature is no longer a symbiote +but a parasite." + +"And as a parasite it must be destroyed!" Brion broke in. "We're not +fighting shadows any more," he exulted. "We've found the enemy--and it's +not the magter at all. Just a sort of glorified tapeworm that is too +stupid to know when it is killing itself off. Does it have a brain--can +it think?" + +"I doubt it very much," Lea said. "A brain would be of absolutely no use +to it. So even if it originally possessed reasoning powers they would be +gone by now. Symbiotes or parasites that live internally like this +always degenerate to an absolute minimum of functions...." + +"Tell me about it? What is this thing?" Ulv broke in, producing the +soft form of the brain-symbiote. He had heard all their excited talk but +had not understood a word. + +"Explain it to him, will you Lea, as best you can," Brion said, looking +at her and realized how exhausted she was. "And sit down while you do +it, you're long overdue for a rest. I'm going to try--" He broke off +when he looked at his watch. + + * * * * * + +It was after four in the afternoon--less than eight hours to go. What +was he to do? Enthusiasm faded as he realized that only half of the +problem was solved. The bombs would drop on schedule unless the +Nyjorders could understand the significance of this discovery. Even if +they understood--would it make any difference to them? The threat of the +hidden cobalt bombs would not be changed. + +With this thought came the guilty realization that he had forgotten +completely about Telt's death. Even before he contacted the Nyjord fleet +he must tell Hys and his rebel army what had happened to Telt and his +sandcar. Also about the radioactive traces. They couldn't be checked +against the records now to see how important they might be, but Hys +might make another raid on the strength of the suspicion. This call +wouldn't take long, then he would be free to tackle Professor-Commander +Krafft. + +Carefully setting the transmitter on the frequency of the rebel army, he +sent out a call to Hys. There was no answer. + +There was always a chance the set was broken. He quickly twisted the +transmitter to the frequency of his personal radio, then whistled in the +microphone. The received signal was so loud that it hurt his ears. He +tried to call Hys again, and was relieved to get a response this time. + +"Brion Brandd here, can you read me? I want to talk to Hys at once." + +Shockingly, it was Professor-Commander Krafft who answered. + +"I'm sorry Brion, but it's impossible to talk to Hys. We are monitoring +his frequency and your call was relayed to me. Hys and his rebels lifted +ship about a half an hour ago, and are already on the way back to +Nyjord. Are you ready to leave now? It will soon become dangerous to +make any landings. Even now I will have to ask for volunteers to get you +out of there." + +Hys and the rebel army gone. Brion assimilated the thought at the same +moment he realized he was talking to Krafft. He was thrown off balance, +not prepared for the encounter. + +"If they're gone--well, then there's nothing I can do about it," Brion +said. "I was going to call you, so I can talk to you now. Listen and try +to understand. You must cancel the bombing. I've found out about the +magter, found what causes their mental aberration. If we can correct +that, we can stop them from attacking Nyjord--" + +"Can they be corrected by midnight tonight?" Krafft broke in. He was +abrupt and sounded annoyed. Even saints get tired. + +"No, of course not." Brion frowned at the microphone, realizing the talk +was going all wrong, but not knowing how to fix it. "But it won't take +too long. I have evidence here that will convince you that what I say is +the truth." + +"I believe you without seeing it, Brion." The trace of anger was gone +from Krafft's voice now and it was heavy with fatigue and defeat. "I'll +admit you are probably right. A little while ago I admitted to Hys, too, +that he was probably right in his original estimation of the correct way +to tackle the problem of Dis. We have made a lot of mistakes, and in +making them we have run out of time. I'm afraid that is the only fact +that is relevant now. The bombs fall at twelve and even then they may +drop too late. A ship is already on its way from Nyjord with my +replacement. I exceeded my authority by running a day past the maximum +the technicians gave me. I realize now I was gambling the life of my own +world in the vain hope I could save Dis. They can't be saved. They're +dead. I won't hear any more about it." + +"You must listen--" + +"I must destroy the planet below me, that is what I must do. That fact +will not be changed by anything you say. All the offworlders--other than +your party--are gone. I'm sending a ship down now to pick you up. As +soon as that ship lifts I am going to drop the first bombs. Now--tell me +where you are so they can come for you." + +"Don't threaten me, Krafft!" Brion shook his fist at the radio in an +excess of anger. "You're a killer and a world destroyer, don't try and +make yourself out as anything else. I have the knowledge to avert this +slaughter and you won't listen to me. And I know where the cobalt bombs +are--in the magter tower that Hys raided last night. Get those bombs and +there is no need to drop any of your own!" + +"I'm sorry, Brion. I appreciate what you're trying to do, yet at the +same time I know the futility of it. I'm not going to accuse you of +lying, but do you realize how thin your evidence sounds from this end? +First a dramatic discovery of the cause of the magters' intransigency. +Then, when that had no results, you suddenly remember that you know +where the bombs are. The best kept magter secret...." + +"I don't know for sure, but there is a very good chance," Brion said, +trying to repair his defenses. "Telt made readings, he had other records +of radioactivity in this same magter keep. Proof that something is +there. But Telt is dead now, the records destroyed. Don't you see--" He +broke off, realizing how vague and unprovable his case was. This was +defeat. + +The radio was silent, with just the hum of the carrier wave as Krafft +waited for him to continue. When Brion did speak his voice was empty of +all hope. + +"Send your ship down," he said tiredly. "We're in a building that +belonged to the Light Metals Trust Ltd., a big warehouse of some kind. I +don't know the address here, but I'm sure you have someone there who +can find it. We'll be waiting for you." + +"You win Krafft." + +He turned off the radio. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVII + + +"Do you mean what you said, about giving up?" Lea asked. Brion realized +that she had stopped talking to Ulv some time ago, and had been +listening to his conversation with Krafft. He shrugged, trying to put +his feeling into words. + +"We've tried--and almost succeeded. But if they won't listen what can we +do? What can one man possibly do against a fleet loaded with H-bombs?" + +As if in answer to his question Ulv's voice drowned him out. The harsh +Disan words slashing the silence of the room. + +"Kill you, the enemy!" he said. "Kill you _umedvirk_!" + +He shouted the last word and his hand flashed to his belt. In a single +swift motion he lifted his blowgun and placed it to his lips. A tiny +dart quivered in the already dead flesh of the creature in the magter's +skull. The action had all the symbolism of a broken lance, the +declaration of war. + +"Ulv understands it a lot better than you might think," Lea said. "He +knows things about symbiosis and mutualism that would get him a job as a +lecturer in any university on Earth. He knows just what the +brain-symbiote is and what it does. They even have a word for it, one +that never appeared in our Disan language lessons. A life form that you +can live with or co-operate with is called _medvirk_. One that works to +destroy you is _umedvirk_. He also understands that life forms can +change, and be _medvirk_ or _umedvirk_ at different times. He has just +decided that the brain symbiote is _umedvirk_ and is out to kill it. So +will the rest of the Disans as soon as he can show them the evidence and +explain." + +"You're sure of this," Brion asked, interested in spite of himself. + +"Positive. The Disans have a very absolute attitude towards survival, +you should realize that. Not the same as the magter, but not much +different in the results. They will kill the brain-symbiote, even if it +means killing every magter who harbors one." + +"If that is the case, we can't leave now," Brion said. With these words +it suddenly became very clear what he had to do. "The ship is coming +down now from the fleet. Get in it and take the body of the magter. I +won't go." + +"Where will you be?" she asked. + +"Fighting the magter. My presence on the planet means that Krafft won't +keep his threat to drop the bombs any earlier than the midnight +deadline. That would be deliberately murdering me. I doubt if my +presence past midnight will stop him, but it should keep the bombs away +at least until then." + +"What will you accomplish besides committing suicide?" Lea pleaded. "You +just told me how a single man can't stop the bombs. What will happen to +you at midnight?" + +"I'll be dead--but in spite of that I can't run away. Not now. I must do +everything possible right up until the last instant. Ulv and I will go +to the magter tower, try to find out if the bombs are there. He will +fight on our side now. He may even know more about the bombs, things +that he didn't want to tell me before. We can get help from his people. +Some of them must know where the bombs are, being native to this +planet." Lea started to say something, but he rushed on, drowning out +her words. + +"You have just as big a job. Show the magter to Krafft, explain the +significance of the brain-parasite to him. Try and get him to talk to +Hys about the last raid. Try to get him to hold off the attack. I'll +keep the radio with me and as soon as I know anything I'll call in. This +is all last resort, finger in the dike kind of stuff, but it is all we +can do." + +"Because if we do nothing it means the end of Dis." + +Lea tried to argue with him, but he wouldn't listen to her. He only +kissed her, and with a lightness he did not feel tried to convince her +that everything would be all right. In their hearts they both knew it +wasn't, yet they left it that way because it was the least painful +solution. + + * * * * * + +A sudden rumbling shook the building and the windows darkened as a ship +settled in the street outside. The Nyjord crew came in with guns +pointed, alert for anything. With a little convincing they took the +cadaver, as well as Lea, when they lifted ship. Brion watched the +spacer become a pinpoint in the sky and vanish. He shrugged his +shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling that this was the last time +he would see any of them. + +"Let's get out of here fast," he told Ulv, picking up the radio. "Before +anyone comes around to see why the ship landed." + +"What will you do," Ulv asked, as they went down the street towards the +desert. "What can we do in the few hours we have left?" He pointed at +the sun, nearing the horizon. Brion shifted the weight of the radio to +his other hand before replying. + +"Get to the magter tower we raided last night, that's the best chance. +The bombs might be there. Unless you know where the bombs are?" + +Ulv shook his head. "I do not know, but some of my people may. We will +capture a magter then kill him so they can all see the _umedvirk_. Then +they will tell us everything they know." + +"The tower first then, for bombs or a sample magter. What's the fastest +way we can get there?" + +Ulv frowned in thought. "If you can drive one of the cars the +offworlders use, I know where there are some locked in buildings in this +city. None of my people know how they are made to move." + +"I can work them--let's go." + +Chance was with them this time. The first sandcar they found still had +the keys in the lock. It was battery powered, but contained a full +charge. Much quieter than the heavy atomic cars it sped smoothly out of +the city and across the sand. Ahead of them the sun sank in a red wave +of color and it was six o'clock. By the time they reached the tower it +was seven and Brion's nerves felt as if they were writhing under his +skin. + +Even though it looked like suicide, attacking the tower brought blessed +relief. It was movement and action, and for moments at a time he forgot +the bombs hanging over his head. + +The attack was nerve-wrackingly anticlimactic. They used the main +entrance, Ulv ranging soundlessly ahead. There was no one in sight. Once +inside they crept down towards the lower rooms where the radiation had +been detected. Only gradually did they realize that the magter tower was +completely empty. + +"Everyone gone," Ulv grunted, sniffing the air in every room that they +passed. "Many magter were here earlier, they are gone now." + +"Do they often desert their towers?" Brion asked. + +"Never. I have never heard of it happening before. I can think of no +reason why they should do a thing like this." + +"Well I can," Brion told him. "They would leave their home if they took +something with them of greater value. The bombs. If the bombs were +hidden here, they might move them after the attack." Sudden fear hit +him. "Or they might move them because it is time to take them--to the +launcher! Let's get out of here, the quickest way we can." + +"I smell air from outside," Ulv said, "coming from down there. This +cannot be, because the magter have no entrances this low in their +towers." + +"We blasted one in earlier--that could be it. Can you find it?" + +Moonlight shone ahead as they turned an angle of the corridor, and stars +were visible through the gaping opening in the wall. + +"It looks bigger than it was," Brion said, "as if the magter enlarged +it." He looked through and saw the tracks on the sand outside. "As if +they enlarged it to bring something bulky up from below--and carried it +away in whatever made those tracks!" + + * * * * * + +Using the opening themselves they ran back to the sandcar. Brion ground +it fiercely around and turned the headlights on the tracks. There were +the marks of a sandcar's treads, half obscured by thin, unmarked wheel +tracks. He turned off the lights and forced himself to move slowly and +to do an accurate job. A quick glimpse of his watch showed him there +were four hours left to go. The moonlight was bright enough to +illuminate the tracks. Driving with one hand he turned on the radio +transmitter, already set for Krafft's wave length. + +When the operator acknowledged his signal Brion reported what they had +discovered and his conclusions. "Get that message to Commander Krafft +now. I can't wait to talk to him--I'm following the tracks." He killed +the transmission and stamped on the accelerator. The sandcar churned +and bounced down the track. + +"They are going to the mountains," Ulv said half an hour later, as the +tracks still pointed straight ahead. "There are caves here and many +magter have been seen near them, that is what I have heard." + +The guess was correct. Before nine o'clock the ground humped into a +range of foothills and the darker masses of mountains could be seen +behind them, rising up to obscure the stars. + +"Stop the car here," Ulv said, "The caves begin not too far ahead. There +may be magter watching or listening, so we must go quietly." + +Brion followed the deep-cut grooves, carrying the radio. Ulv came and +went on both sides, silently as a shadow, scouting for hidden watchers. +As far as he could discover there were none. + +By nine-thirty Brion realized they had deserted the sandcar too soon. +The tracks wound on and on, and seemed to have no end. They passed some +caves, Ulv pointed them out to him, but the tracks never stopped. Time +was running out and the nightmare stumbling through the darkness +continued. + +"More caves ahead," Ulv said. "Go quietly." + +They came cautiously to the crest of the hill, as they had done so many +times before, and looked into the shallow valley beyond. Sand covered +the valley floor, and the light of the setting moon shone over the +tracks at a flat angle, setting them off sharply as lines of shadow. +They ran straight across the sandy valley and disappeared into the dark +mouth of a cave on the far side. + +Sinking back behind the hilltop, Brion covered the pilot light with his +hand and turned on the transmitter. Ulv stayed above him, staring at the +opening of the cave. + +"This is an important message," Brion whispered into the mike, "Please +record." He repeated this for thirty seconds, glancing at his watch to +make sure of the time, since the seconds of waiting stretched to minutes +in his brain. Then, clearly as possible without raising his voice above +a whisper, he told of the discovery of the tracks and the cave. + +"... The bombs may or may not be in here, but we are going in to find +out. I'll leave my personal transmitter here with the broadcast power +turned on, so you can home on its signal. That will give you a +directional beacon to find the cave. I'm taking the other radio in, it +has more power. If we can't get back to the entrance, I'll try a signal +from inside. I doubt if you will hear it because of the rock, but I'll +try. End of transmission. Don't try to answer me because I have the +receiver turned off. There are no earphones on this set and the speaker +would be too loud here." + +He switched off, held his thumb on the button for an instant, then +flicked it back on. + +"Good-by, Lea," he said, and killed the power for good. + + * * * * * + +They circled and reached the rocky wall of the cliff. Creeping silently +in the shadows here they slipped up on the dark entrance of the cave. +Nothing moved ahead and there was no sound from the entrance of the +cave. Brion glanced at his watch and was instantly sorry. + +Ten-thirty. + +The last shelter concealing them was five meters from the cave. They +started to rise, to rush the final distance when Ulv suddenly waved +Brion down. He pointed to his nose, then to the cave. He could smell the +magter there. + +A dark figure separated itself from the greater darkness of the cave +mouth. Ulv acted instantly. He stood up and his hand went to his mouth; +air hissed faintly through the tube in his hand. Without a noise the +magter folded and fell to the ground. Before the body hit Ulv crouched +low and rushed in. There was the sudden scuffling of feet on the floor, +then silence. + +Brion walked in, gun ready and alert, not knowing what he would find. +His toe pushed against a body on the ground and from the darkness Ulv +whispered. "There were only two. We can go on now." + +Finding their way through the cave was a maddening torture. They had no +light, nor could they dare use one if they had. There were no wheel +marks to follow on the stone floor. Without Ulv's sensitive nose they +would have been completely lost. The caves branched and rejoined and +they soon lost all sense of direction. + +Walking was maddening and almost impossible. They had to grope with +their hands before them like blind men. Stumbling and falling against +the rock, their fingers were soon throbbing and raw from brushing +against the rough walls. Ulv followed the scent of the magter that hung +in the air where they had passed. When it grew thin he knew they had +left the frequently used tunnels and entered deserted ones. They could +only retrace their steps and start again in a different direction. + +More maddening than the walking was the time. Inexorably the glowing +hands crept around the face of Brion's watch until they stood at fifteen +minutes before twelve. + +"There is a light ahead," Ulv whispered, and Brion almost gasped with +relief. They moved slowly and silently until they stood, concealed by +the darkness, looking out into a domed chamber brightly lit by glowing +tubes. + +"What is it," Ulv asked, blinking in the painful wash of illumination +after the long darkness. + +Brion had to fight to control his voice, to stop from shouting. + +"The cage with the metal webbing is a jump-space generator. The pointed, +sliver shapes next to it are bombs of some kind, probably the cobalt +bombs. We've found it!" + +His first impulse was to instantly send the radio call that would stop +the waiting fleet of H-bombers. But an unconvincing message would be +worse than no message at all. He had to describe exactly what he saw +here so the Nyjorders would know he wasn't lying. What he told them had +to fit exactly with the information they already had about the launcher +and the bombs. + + * * * * * + +The launcher had been jury-rigged from a ship's jump-space generator, +that was obvious. The generator and its controls were neatly cased and +mounted. Cables ran from them to a roughly constructed cage of woven +metal straps, hammered and bent into shape by hand. Three technicians +were working on the equipment. Brion wondered what sort of bloodthirsty +war-lovers the magter had found to handle the bombing for them. Then he +saw the chains around their necks and the bloody wounds on their backs. +He still found it difficult to have any pity for them. They had been +obviously willing to accept money to destroy another planet--or they +wouldn't have been working here. They had probably rebelled only when +they had discovered how suicidal the attack would be. + +Thirteen minutes to midnight. + +Cradling the radio against his chest, Brion rose to his feet. He had a +better view of the bombs now. There were twelve of them, alike as eggs +from the same deadly clutch. Pointed like the bow of a spacer, each one +swept smoothly back for its two meters of length, to a sharply chopped +off end. They were obviously incomplete, the war heads of rockets. One +had its base turned towards him and he saw six projecting studs that +could be used to attach it to the missing rocket. A circular inspection +port was open in the flat base of the bomb. + +This was enough. With this description the Nyjorders would know he +couldn't be lying about finding the bombs. Once they realized this they +couldn't destroy Dis without first trying to neutralize them. + +Brion carefully counted fifty paces before he stopped. He was far enough +from the cavern so he couldn't be heard, and an angle of the cave cut +off all light from behind him. With carefully controlled movements he +turned on the power, switched the set to transmit and checked the +broadcast frequency. All correct. Then, slowly and clearly, he described +what he had seen in the cavern behind him. He kept his voice +emotionless, recounting facts, leaving out anything that might be +considered an opinion. + +It was six minutes before midnight when he finished. He thumbed the +switch to receive and waited. + +There was only silence. + +Slowly, the empty quality of the silence penetrated his numbed mind. +There were no crackling atmospherics nor hiss of static, even when he +turned the power full on. The mass of rock and earth of the mountain +above was acting as a perfect grounding screen, absorbing his signal +even at maximum output. + +They hadn't heard him. The Nyjord fleet didn't know that the cobalt +bombs had been discovered before their launching. The attack would go +ahead as planned. Even now the bomb-bay doors were opening, armed +H-bombs hung above the planet, held in place only by their shackles. In +a few minutes the signal would be given and the shackles would spring +open, the bombs drop clear.... + + * * * * * + +"Killers!" Brion shouted into the microphone. "You wouldn't listen to +reason, you wouldn't listen to Hys, or me, or to any voice that +suggested an alternative to complete destruction. You are going to +destroy Dis and _it's not necessary_! There were a lot of ways you could +have stopped it. You didn't do any of them and now it's too late. You'll +destroy Dis and in turn this will destroy Nyjord. Ihjel said that and +now I believe him. You're just another failure in a galaxy full of +failures!" + +He raised the radio above his head and sent it crashing into the rock +floor. Then he was running back to Ulv, trying to run away from the +realization that he, too, had tried and failed. The people on the +surface of Dis had less than two minutes left to live. + +"They didn't get my message," Brion said to Ulv. "The radio won't work +this far underground." + +"Then the bombs will fall?" Ulv asked, looking searchingly at Brion's +face in the dim reflected light from the cavern. + +"Unless something happens that we know nothing about, the bombs will +fall." + +They said nothing after that, they simply waited. The three technicians +in the cavern were also aware of the time. They were calling to each +other and trying to talk to the magter. The emotionless, parasite-ridden +brains of the magter saw no reason to stop work, so the men were beaten +back to their tasks. In spite of the blows they didn't go, just gaped in +horror as the clock hands moved remorselessly towards twelve. Even the +magter dimly felt some of the significance of the occasion. They +stopped, too, and waited. + +The hour hand touched twelve on Brion's watch, then the minute hand. The +second hand closed the gap and for a tenth of a second the three black +hands were one. Then the second hand moved on. + +Brion's immediate sensation of relief was washed away by the chilling +realization that he was deep underground. Sound and seismic waves were +slow and the flare of atomic explosions couldn't be seen here. If the +bombs had been dropped at twelve, they wouldn't know it at once. + +A distant rumble filled the air. A moment later the ground heaved under +them and the lights in the cavern flickered. Fine dust drifted down from +the roof above. + +Ulv turned to him, but Brion looked away. He could not face the +accusation in the Disan's eyes. + + + + +XVIII + + +One of the technicians was running and screaming. The magter knocked him +down and beat him into silence. Seeing this the other two men returned +to work with shaking hands. Even if all life on the surface of the +planet were dead, this would have no effect on the magter. They would go +ahead as planned, without emotion or imagination enough to alter their +set course. As they worked the technicians' attitude changed from +shocked numbness to anger. Right and wrong were forgotten. They had been +killed--the invisible death of radiation must already be penetrating +into the caves--but they also had the chance for vengeance. Swiftly they +brought their work to completion, with a speed and precision they had +concealed before. + +"What are those offworlders doing?" Ulv asked. + +Brion stirred from his lethargy of defeat and looked across the cavern +floor. The men had a wheeled hand-truck and were rolling one of the +atomic warheads onto it. They pushed it over to the latticework of the +jump-field. + +"They are going to bomb Nyjord now, just as Nyjord bombed Dis. That +machine will hurl the bombs in a special way to the other planet." + +"Will you stop them?" Ulv asked. He had his deadly blowgun in his hand +and his face was an expressionless mask. + +Brion almost smiled at the irony of the situation. In spite of +everything he had done to prevent it, Nyjord had dropped the bombs. And +this act alone may have destroyed their own planet. Brion had it within +his power now to stop the launching in the cavern. Should he? Should he +save the lives of his killers? Or should he practice the ancient +blood-oath that had echoed and destroyed down through the ages--_An eye +for an eye, a tooth for a tooth._ It would be so simple. He literally +had to do nothing. The score would be evened and his and the Disans' +deaths avenged. + +[Illustration] + +Did Ulv have his blowgun ready to kill Brion if he should try to stop +the launchings? Or had he misread the Disan entirely? + +"Will _you_ stop them, Ulv?" he asked. + +How large was mankind's sense of obligation? The cave man first had this +feeling for his mate, then for his family. It grew until men fought and +died for the abstract ideas of cities and nations, then for whole +planets. Would the time ever come when men might realize that the +obligation should be to the largest and most encompassing reality of +all? Mankind. And beyond that to life of all kinds. + +Brion saw this idea not in words, but as a reality. When he posed the +question to himself in this way he found that it stated clearly its +inherent answer. He pulled his gun out, and as he did he wondered what +Ulv's answer might be. + +"Nyjord is _medvirk_," Ulv said, raising his blowgun and sending a dart +across the cavern. It struck one of the technicians who gasped and fell +to the floor. + +Brion's shots crashed into the control board, shorting and destroying +it, removing the menace to Nyjord for all time. + +_Medvirk_, Ulv had said. A life form that co-operates and aids other +life forms. It may kill in self-defense, but is essentially not a killer +or destroyer. Ulv had a lifetime of knowledge about the interdependency +of life. He grasped the essence of the idea and ignored all the verbal +complications and confusions. He had killed the magter, who were his own +people, because they were _umedvirk_--against life. And saved his +enemies because they were _medvirk_. + +With this realization came the painful knowledge that the planet and +the people that had produced this understanding were dead. + + * * * * * + +In the cavern the magter saw the destruction of their plans, and the +cave mouth from which the bullets had come. Silently they rushed to kill +their enemy. A concerted wave of emotionless fury. + +Brion and Ulv fought back. Even the knowledge that he was doomed no +matter what happened could not resign Brion to death at the hands of the +magter. To Ulv, the decision was much easier. He was simply killing +_umedvirk_. A believer in life, he destroyed the anti-life. + +They retreated into the darkness, still firing. The magter had lights +and ion-rifles, and were right behind them. Knowing the caverns better +than the men they chased, pursuers circled. Brion saw lights ahead and +dragged Ulv to a stop. + +"They know their way through these caves, and we don't," he said. "If we +try to run, they'll just shoot us down. Let's find a spot we can defend +and settle into it." + +"Back here," Ulv gave a tug in the right direction, "there is a cave +with only one very narrow entrance." + +"Let's go!" + +Running as silently as they could in the darkness, they reached the +deadend cavern without being seen. What noise they made was lost in +other footsteps that echoed and sounded through the connecting caves. +Once inside they found cover behind a ridge and waited. The end was +certain. + +The magter ran swiftly into their cave, flashing his light into all the +places of concealment. The beam passed over the two hidden men and at +the same instant Brion fired. The shot boomed loudly as the magter fell. +Even if his loss was not known, the shot would surely have been heard. + +Before anyone else came into the cave, Brion ran over and grabbed the +still functioning light. Propping it on the rocks so it shone on the +entrance, he hurried back to shelter beside Ulv. They waited for the +attack. + +It was not long in coming. Two magter rushed in and died. There were +more outside, and Brion wondered how long it would be before they +remembered the grenades and rolled one into their shelter. + +An indistinct murmur sounded outside and some sharp explosions. In their +shelter, Brion and Ulv crouched low and wondered why the attack didn't +come. Then one of the magter came in and Brion hesitated before +shooting. + +The man had _backed_ in, firing behind him as he came. + +Ulv had no compunctions about killing, only his darts couldn't penetrate +the magter's thick clothing. As the magter turned Ulv's breath pulsed +once and death stung the back of the other man's hand. He collapsed into +a crumpled heap. + +"Don't shoot," a voice said from outside the cave, and a man stepped +through the swirling dust and smoke to stand in the beam from the light. + +Brion clutched wildly at Ulv's arm, dragging the blowgun from the +Disan's mouth. + +The man in the light wore a protective helmet, thick boots and a +pouch-hung uniform. + +He was a Nyjorder. + +This shock of reality was almost impossible to accept. Brion had heard +the bombs fall. Yet the Nyjord soldier was here. The two facts couldn't +be accepted together. + +"Would you keep a hold on his arm, sir, just in case," the soldier said, +glancing warily at Ulv's blowpipe. "I know what those darts can do." He +pulled a microphone from one of his pockets and spoke into it. + +More soldiers crowded into the cave and Professor-Commander Krafft came +in behind them. He looked strangely out of place in the dusty combat +uniform. The gun was even more grotesque in his blue-veined hand. After +relievedly giving the pistol to the nearest soldier, he stumbled quickly +over to Brion and took his hand. + +"It is a profound and sincere pleasure to meet you in person," he said. +"And your friend Ulv as well." + +"Would you kindly explain what is going on," Brion said thickly. He was +obsessed by the strange feeling that none of this could possibly be +happening. + +"We will always remember you as the man who saved us from ourselves," +Krafft said, once again the professor instead of the commander. + +"What he wants are facts, Grandpa, not speeches," Hys said. The bent +form of the leader of the rebel Nyjord army pushed through the crowd of +taller men until he stood next to Krafft. "Simply stated, Brion, your +plan succeeded. Krafft relayed your message to me--and as soon as I +heard it I turned back and met him on his ship. I'm sorry that Telt's +dead--but he found what we were looking for. I couldn't ignore his +report of radioactive traces. Your girl friend arrived with the hacked +up corpse at the same time I did, and we all took a long look at the +green leech in its skull. Her explanation of what it is made significant +sense. We were already carrying out landings when we had your call about +something having been stored in the magter tower. After that it was just +a matter of following tracks--and the transmitter you planted." + +"But the explosions at midnight," Brion broke in, "I heard them!" + +"You were supposed to," Hys laughed. "Not only you, but the magter in +this cave. We figured they would be armed and the cave strongly +defended. So at midnight we dropped a few large chemical explosive bombs +at the entrance. Enough to kill the guards without bringing the roof +down. We also hoped that the magter deeper in would leave their posts or +retreat from the imagined radiation. They did. Worked like a charm. We +came in quietly and took them by surprise. Made a clean sweep. Killed +the ones we couldn't capture." + +"One of the renegade jump-space technicians was still alive," Krafft +said. "He told us about your stopping the bombs aimed at Nyjord, the +two of you." + + * * * * * + +None of the Nyjorders there could add anything to his words, not even +the cynical Hys. Yet Brion could empathize their feelings, the warmth of +their intense relief and happiness. It was a sensation he would never +forget. + +"There is no more war," Brion translated for Ulv, realizing that the +Disan had understood nothing of the explanation. As he said it, he +realized that there was one glaring error in the story. + +"You couldn't have done it," Brion said, astonished. "You landed on this +planet _before_ you had my message about the tower. That means you still +expected the magter to be sending their bombs to Nyjord--and you made +the landings in spite of this knowledge." + +"Of course," Professor Krafft said, astonished at Brion's lack of +understanding. "What else could we do? The magter are sick!" + +Hys laughed aloud at Brion's baffled expression. "You have to understand +Nyjord psychology," he said. "When it was a matter of war and killing my +planet could never agree on an intelligent course. War is so alien to +our philosophy that it couldn't even be considered correctly. That's the +trouble with being a vegetable eater in a galaxy of carnivores. You're +easy prey for the first one that lands on your back. Any other planet +would have jumped on the magter with both feet and shaken the bombs out +of them. We fumbled it so long it almost got both worlds killed. Your +mind-parasite drew us back from the brink." + +"I still don't understand," Brion said. "Why--" + +"Simple matter of definition. Before you came we had no way to deal with +the magter here on Dis. They really were alien to us. Nothing they did +made sense--and nothing we did seemed to have the slightest effect on +them. But you discovered that they were _sick_, and that's something we +know how to handle. We're united again, my rebel army was instantly +absorbed into the rest of the Nyjord forces by mutual agreement. Doctors +and nurses are on the way here now. Plans were put under way to evacuate +what part of the population we could until the bombs were found. The +planet is united again and working hard." + +"Because the magter are sick, infected by a destructive life form?" +Brion asked. + +"Exactly so," Professor Krafft said. "We are civilized, after all. You +can't expect us to fight a war--and you surely can't expect us to ignore +the plight of sick neighbors?" + +"No ... you surely can't," Brion said, sitting down heavily. He looked +at Ulv, who knew nothing of the incomprehensible speech. Beyond him Hys +wore his most cynical expression as he considered the frailties of his +people. + +"Hys," Brion called out. "You translate all that into Disan and explain +to Ulv. I wouldn't dare." + + + + +XIX + + +Dis was a floating golden ball, looking like a schoolroom globe in +space. No clouds obscured its surface, and from this distance it seemed +warm and attractive set against the cold darkness. Brion almost wished +he were back there now, as he sat shivering inside the heavy coat. He +wondered how long it would be before his confused body-temperature +controls decided to turn off the summer adjustment. + +Delicate as a dream, Lea's reflection swam in space next to the planet. +She had come up quietly behind him in the spaceship's corridor, only her +gentle breath and mirrored face telling him she was there. He turned +quickly and took her hands in his. + +"You're looking better," he said. + +"Well I should," she said, pushing her hair in an unconscious gesture +with the back of her hand. "I've been doing nothing but lie in the +ship's hospital, while you were having such a fine time this last week. +Rushing around down there shooting all the magter." + +"Just gassing them," he told her. "The Nyjorders can't bring themselves +to kill any more, even if it does raise their own casualty rate. In fact +they are having difficulty restraining the Disans led by Ulv, who are +happily killing any magter they see as being pure _umedvirk_." + +"What will they do when they have all those frothing magter madmen?" + +"They don't know yet," he said. "They won't really know until they see +what an adult magter is like with his brain-parasite dead and gone. +They're having better luck with the children. If they catch them early +enough, the parasite can be destroyed before it has done too much +damage." + +Lea shuddered delicately. + +"I hate to think of a magter deprived of his symbiote," she said. "If +his system can stand the shock, I imagine there will be nothing left +except a brainless hulk. This is one series of experiments I don't care +to witness. I rest secure in the knowledge that the Nyjorders will find +the most humane solution." + +"I'm sure they will," Brion said. + +"Now what about us," she said disconcertingly. + +This jarred Brion. He didn't have her ability to put past horrors out of +the mind by substituting present pleasures. "Well, what about us?" he +said with masterful inappropriateness. + +She smiled and leaned against him. "You weren't as vague as that, the +night in the hospital room. I seem to remember a few other things you +said. You can't claim you're completely indifferent to me, Brion Brandd. +So I'm only asking you what any outspoken Anvharian girl would. Where do +we go from here? Get married?" + +There was a definite pleasure in holding her slight body in his arms and +feeling her hair against his cheek. They both sensed it, and this +awareness made his words sound that much more ugly. + +"Lea ... darling! You know how important you are to me--but you +certainly realize that we could never get married." + +Her body stiffened and she tore herself away from him. + +"Why you great, fat, egotistical slab of meat," she screamed. "What do +you mean by that? I like you Lea, we have plenty of fun and games +together, but surely you realize that you aren't the kind of girl one +takes home to mother!" + +"Lea, hold on," he said. "You know better than to say a thing like that. +What I said has nothing to do with how I feel towards you. But marriage +means children, and you are biologist enough to know about Earth's +genes--" + +"Intolerant yokel!" she cried, slapping his face. He didn't move or +attempt to stop her. "I expected better from you, with all your +pretensions of understanding. But all you can think of are the horror +stories about the worn out genes of Earth. You're the same as every +other big, strapping bigot from the frontier planets. I know how you +look down on our small size, our allergies and hemophilia and all the +other weaknesses that have been bred back and preserved by the race. You +hate--" + +"But that's not what I meant at all," he interrupted, shocked, his voice +drowning hers out. "Yours are the strong genes, the viable +strains--_mine_ are the deadly ones. A child of mine would kill itself +and you in a natural birth, if it managed to live to term. You're +forgetting that you are the original Homo sapiens. I'm a recent +mutation." + +Lea was frozen by his words. They revealed a truth she had known, but +would never permit herself to consider. + +"Earth is home, the planet where mankind developed," he said. "The last +few thousand years you may have been breeding weaknesses back into the +genetic pool. But that's nothing compared to the hundred millions of +years that it took to develop man. How many newborn babies live to be a +year of age on Earth?" + +"Why ... almost all of them." + +"Earth is home," he said gently. "When men leave home they can adapt to +different planets, but a price must be paid. A terrible price in dead +infants. The successful mutations live, the failures die. Natural +selection is a brutally simple affair. When you look at me you see a +success. I have a sister--a success too. Yet my mother had six other +children who died when they were still babies. And at least fifteen +others that never came to term. You know these things, don't you Lea?" + +"I know, I know...." she said sobbing into her hands. He held her now +and she didn't pull away. "I know it all as a biologist--but I am so +awfully tired of being a biologist, and top of my class and a mental +match for any man. But when I think about you, I do it as a woman, and +can't admit any of this. I need someone Brion, and I needed you so much +because I loved you." She sniffed and pushed at her eyes. "You're going +home, aren't you? Back to Anvhar. When?" + +"I can't wait too long," he said, unhappily. "Aside from my personal +wants I find myself remembering that I'm a part of Anvhar. When you +think of the number of people who suffered and died--or adapted--so that +I could be sitting here now. Well, it's a little frightening. I suppose +it doesn't make sense logically that I should feel indebted to them. But +I do. Whatever I do now, or in the next few years, won't be as important +as getting back to Anvhar." + +"And I won't be going back with you." It was a flat statement the way +she said it, not a question. + +"No, you won't be," he said. + +Lea was looking out of the port at Dis and her eyes were dry now. "Way +back in my deeply buried unconscious I think I knew it would end this +way," she said. "If you think your little lecture on the Origins of Man +was a novelty, it wasn't. Just reminded me of a number of things my +glands had convinced me to forget. In a way I envy you your weightlifter +wife-to-be, and your happy kiddies. But not very much. Very early in +life I resigned myself to the fact that there was no one on Earth I +would care to marry. I always had these teen-age dreams of a hero from +space who would carry me off, and I guess I slipped you into the pattern +without realizing it." + + * * * * * + +"Don't we look happy," Hys said, shambling towards them. + +"Fall dead and make me even happier then," Lea snapped bitterly. + +Hys ignored the acid tone of her answer and sat down on the couch next +to them. Since leaving command of his rebel Nyjord Army he seemed much +mellower. "Going to keep on working for the Cultural Relationships +Foundation, Brion?" he asked. "You're the kind of man we need." + +Brion's eyes widened as the meaning of the last words penetrated. "Are +you in the C.R.F.?" + +"Field agent for Nyjord," he said. "I hope you don't think those +helpless office types like Faussel or Mervv really represented us there? +They just took notes and acted as a front and cover for the +organization. Nyjord is a fine planet, but a gentle guiding hand behind +the scenes is needed, to help them find their place in the galaxy before +they are pulverized." + +"What's your dirty game, Hys?" Lea asked, scowling. "I've had enough +hints to suspect for a long time that there was more to the C.R.F. than +the sweetness-and-light-part I have seen. Are you people egomaniacs, +power hungry or what?" + +"That's the first charge that would be leveled at us, if our activities +were publicly known," Hys told her. "That's why we do most of our work +under cover. The best fact I can give you to counter the charge is +_money_. Just where do you think we get the funds for an operation this +size?" He smiled at their blank looks. "You'll see the records later so +there won't be any doubt. The truth is that all our funds are donated by +planets we have helped. Even a tiny percentage of a planetary income is +large--add enough of them together and you have enough money to help +other planets. And voluntary gratitude is a perfect test, if you stop to +think about it. You can't talk people into liking what you have done. +They have to be convinced. There have always been people on C.R.F. +worlds who knew about our work, and agreed with it enough to see that we +are kept in funds." + +"Why are you telling me all this super-secret stuff," Lea asked. + +"Isn't that obvious? We want you to keep on working for us. You can name +whatever salary you like, as I've said there is no shortage of ready +cash." Hys glanced quickly at them both and delivered the clinching +argument. "I hope Brion will go on working with us, too. He is the kind +of field agent we desperately need, and it is almost impossible to +find." + +"Just show me where to sign," she said, and there was life in her voice +once again. + +"I wouldn't exactly call it blackmail," Brion smiled, "yet I suppose if +you people can juggle planetary psychologies, you must find that +individuals can be pushed around like chess men. Though you should +realize that very little pushing is required this time." + +"Will you sign on?" Hys asked. + +"I must go back to Anvhar," Brion said, "but there really is no pressing +hurry." + +"Earth," said Lea, "is overpopulated enough as it is." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense of Obligation, by +Henry Maxwell Dempsey (AKA Harry Harrison) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE OF OBLIGATION *** + +***** This file should be named 35204.txt or 35204.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/2/0/35204/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Adam Styles and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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. 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