Complete Short Fiction, page 274
“Naturally,” nodded Rour. Ugell merely gazed at Patricia with his ice-blue eyes.
“I want to hear “the recommendations,” said Patricia curtly, “before I make up my mind as to that.”
The faint smile remained unchanged on Enro’s face. He was enjoying himself. “I seem to remember a rumor,” he said, “that my sister once took a special interest in the system under discussion.”
To Gosseyn the realization of the truth had come many seconds before. Venus! This was the Board of Inquiry that had been appointed to investigate the defeat of Thorson in the solar system.
“Well, gentlemen,” said Enro amiably, “I see that we are all interested in hearing what you have to say.”
Ugell took a paper from an inner pocket, and put on a pair of glasses. He looked up, “Are you interested in the reasons for our decision.”
“Most certainly,” said Enro. “What I want to know is, what happened? How did Thorson, one of the great trouble shooters of the empire, fail on a mission that was to be a mere incident in his career?”
Rour was silent. Ugell said “Your excellency, we questioned more than a thousand officers and men. Their stories made the following picture. Our armies successfully captured the cities of the rebels. Then, on the death of Marshal Thorson, the new commander ordered that Venus be abandoned. Naturally, these orders were carried out. So you see it is no disgrace to our arms, but the action of one man for reasons which we have not been able to discover.”
The picture was reasonably accurate. It failed to mention that the Venusian Ās had successfully defended their planet against the attacking forces. The investigation had not ferreted out the role that Gilbert Gosseyn had played in the death of Thorson, but, still, the facts that had been discovered were a part of the reality.
Enro was frowning. “Was Thorson murdered by his successor?” he asked.
“There is no evidence pointing in that direction,” said Rour, as Ugell failed to answer. “Marshal Thorson was killed during an attack which he personally led against a rebel stronghold on the planet, Earth.”
Enro exploded into anger. “The incredible fool,” he said savagely. “What was he doing leading any force in person?” With an effort the dictator controlled himself. “However, gentlemen, I am very glad to have heard this account. It fits in with some information which I already have, and with some theories of mine. At the moment I am troubled in my own palace here by people who are foolishly plotting against my life, and so I should like you to give me the name of the officer who succeeded Thorson as commander of our forces on Venus.”
Ugell read from the paper: “His name is Eldred Crang. We have been unable to find any trace of this traitor.”
Enro stared straight ahead. “And, gentlemen, what are your recommendations with regard to these planets?”
“It is recommended,” read Ugell in a monotone, “that the habitable parts of the system be sprayed with any one-year radioactive isotope that is available in the region, and that the system be rendered uninhabitable.”
He looked up. “Marshal Rour is rather taken with a new idea that a young woman psychologist has been urging upon him recently. That is, that some planet be populated solely with criminally insane people. It seemed to us, though this notion was not incorporated in the text of our findings that it might be an interesting experiment to carry out as soon as the planets in question become habitable again.”
He handed the document to Enro, who took it without a word. There was a pause while he read it.
So Enro had known all the time. That was the thought that Gosseyn held in his mind. Their silly little plot—which had never really got beyond the embryo stage—had probably amused him even as he pondered the most devastating answer he could make to all their hopes.
It seemed clear also he had known for some days who Eldred Crang was.
Enro was passing the document to Patricia. Without looking at it, she started to tear it up.
“That, gentlemen, is what I think of your recommendations.”
She climbed to her feet. Her face was colorless. “It’s just about time, Enro,” she said, “that you and your executioners stop this mad murder of every one who has the courage to oppose you. The people of the planets Venus and Earth are harmless.”
“Harmless?” said Rour involuntarily. “If they’re so harmless, how is it that they were able to defeat our armies?”
She turned on him, her blue eyes flashing. “Your report has stated—just now—that there was no defeat. That the action to retreat was taken at the command of the officer who succeeded Thorson.”
She leaned towards him. “Is it possible that you are trying to cover up a defeat for our forces by a false statement, an appeal to the vanity of my brother?”
She was beside herself, in a thalamic fury. With a gesture she waved aside his effort to speak, and answered her own question.
“Never mind,” she said, “your facts are reasonably accurate. I’ll vouch for them. Because I gave the order to the officer who succeeded Thorson. He had no recourse but to obey the sister of his ruler. He sits here beside me as my husband.”
“His price was high,” sneered Enro.
He turned to the military men. “Gentlemen, I have known for several days the identity of Eldred Crang. I am unable to act against him as a traitor because here on Gorgzid my sister’s authority is very similar to my own, and I am bound by my religious faith to uphold her rights. I am trying to persuade the lord guardian to . . . uh . . . grant her a divorce, and he has taken the request under advisement.”
The words were earnestly spoken. It was hard, to believe that behind the apparent logic and integrity of them was Enro’s determination to use that religion to compel his sister to follow the ancient Gorgzid custom of brother-sister marriage. And that all the rest was fabrication.
Patricia was speaking again, earnestly: “The people of the solar system have developed an educational system of the highest order, a culture which I should like to see modeled throughout the galaxy.”
She turned to look down at her brother. “Enro,” she said, “there can be no point in destroying a system which has devoted itself to education. If at any time it should be necessary to take over those planets, it could probably be done without bloodshed.”
Enro laughed. “An educational system, eh?” He shrugged cynically. “Secoh will be only too happy to tell you the plans the Temples have for subjugated planets.”
He turned to the marshals and there was a savage note in his voice as he said: “Gentlemen, I must apologize for my sister’s ill-tempered rudeness. She has a tendency to forget that her rule as Gorgzin does not extend beyond the planetary system where she and I are joint heirs. In ordering Lieutenant general Crang to withdraw our forces from Venus, she forgot that the Greatest Empire is a private achievement of my own. In marrying him, and permitting him and”—he hesitated, and glared for an instant at Gosseyn-Ashargin—“other upstarts to plan against me under her protection, she forfeited any right which she might have had to appeal to the softer side of my nature.”
His teeth snapped decisively. He. said grimly: “You may be sure that I do not appoint Boards of Inquiry, and then ignore their recommendations. And, as a precaution, to insure that the Gorgzin does not place herself in jeopardy by going to Venus, I shall immediately issue an order that no galactic ‘Distorters’ can be used, by her until after the destruction of the population of the solar system has been carried out as recommended. Thank you, gentlemen. You have my best wishes.”
Gosseyn noticed that the negating order did not extend to Prince Ashargin. He said nothing, but immediately the meal was over, he headed for the public “Distorter” system of the palace. He didn’t know if it was possible to go to Venus in a “Distorter” cage—by ship, yes; but he couldn’t get hold of a ship—and so his only recourse was to make the attempt.
He took the torn segments of the Venusian report from his pocket—he still had to admire the way Crang had removed them from Patricia’s plate, studied them briefly, and then casually passed them on to Ashargin—and quickly pieced them together.
The galactic co-ordinates of the position in space of Sol were printed right across the top of page one. He read, “Decant Eight, r36,400 theta 272° Z1800—”
Thirty-six thousand four hundred light-years from the galactic axis, at an angle 272° from the standard line—which was based on some remote galaxy—and eighteen hundred light-years on the minus side of the galactic plane. And his very first task must be to get to Decant Eight.
As he pulled the lever in the “cage,” Gosseyn felt the change. Felt himself return to his own body—free of Ashargin.
He wakened in the swift fashion of the change, sat up abruptly. And then lay back with a groan as every stiff muscle in his body shrieked in protest against the sharp movement.
There was a feminine exclamation from near the bed, Leej came into the line of vision of his smarting eyes.
“You’re awake,” she said, and her voice was little more than a whisper. “I thought something was going to happen, but I couldn’t be sure.”
Tears came into her eyes. “I’ve got to tell you,” she said. “We’re cut off. Something has happened to the ‘Distorter’ system. The ship is marooned. Captain Free says it will take us five hundred years to get to the nearest base.”
The mystery of the lost destroyer, Y-381907, was explained.
XV.
Ābstracts
A few of the operational principles of general semantics are as follows: (1) Human nervous systems are structurally similar one to the other, but are never exactly the same. (2) Any human nervous system is affected by events—verbal or nonverbal. (3) An event—that is a happening—affects the body and mind as a whole.
Gosseyn did not try to move again immediately. His eyes were watering from the sudden flood of light, but his vision was better. His body ached. Every joint and muscle seemed to be protesting the one attempt he had made to sit up.
He recognized what had happened. Allowing for the passage of time during “Distorter” transport, he had been away from the destroyer for about a month. During the whole time his body had been lying unconscious.
Compared to the attention the Gosseyn bodies must receive from their automatic “incubators,” the care he had been given during the month just past, however well meaning, had probably been on a. level only slightly higher than primitive.
He grew aware again of Leej. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with eyes that glowed emotionally. But she said nothing, and so, favoring his stiff muscles, he looked around the room.
It was a rather nicely furnished bedroom with twin beds. The other bed had been slept in, and he surmised that it had been occupied by Leej. He passed instantly on to the thought that they were probably imprisoned together.
That was an assumption that he intended to check on as soon as possible.
His gaze came back to her, and this time she spoke. “How are you feeling? The pictures I have are not clear on that point.”
He managed a reassuring smile for her. He was just beginning to realize what a disastrous month it must have been for a woman of her position. In spite of what the Followers had tried to do to her, she was not really accustomed to danger or reverses.
“I think I’m all right,” he said slowly. And his jaw ached from the effort at speaking.
Her delicate face showed concern. “Just a moment,” she said, “I’ll get some ointment.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and emerged almost immediately with a small plastic tube. Before he could realize her intention, she drew the bedclothes from him. For the first time he realized that he was completely undressed. She squeezed a fine slick of oil onto her palm, and began to rub it vigorously into his skin.
“I’ve been doing this all month,” she smiled. “Just imagine.”
Oddly enough, he knew what she meant. Imagine Leej, a free Predictor, who had servants for every purpose, actually performing such menial labor herself. Her amazement at herself made the intimacy of the act subtly right and normal. He was no Enro, requiring the soft feel of women’s hands to make him happy, but he settled back and waited while she rubbed the ache out of his legs, arms and back. She stepped away finally and watched his hesitant attempts to sit up.
To Gosseyn, his helplessness was a startling condition. Not really unexpected, but a reality which somehow he would have to take into account in the future. While he experimented with exercising his muscles, Leej brought his clothes out of a drawer.
“I had everything cleaned,” she said, “in the ship’s cleaning plant, and I bathed you about two hours ago, so you just have to get dressed.”
The fact that she had managed to secure, the services of the laundry department interested Gosseyn, but he did not comment on that mundane level, “You knew I was going to wake up?”
“Naturally.”
She must have seen the questioning expression on his face, for she said quickly:
“Don’t worry, the blurs start soon enough, now that you’re awake.”
“When?” He was tense at the thought of action.
“In about fifteen minutes.” Gosseyn began to dress more swiftly.
He spent five of the fifteen minutes slowly walking around the room. Then he rested for a minute, and for two minutes walked faster, swinging his arms with a free rhythm. He paused finally and looked down at Leej where she had sat down in a chair.
“What’s all this about being lost in space?” he asked.
The eagerness went out of her eyes. “We’re cut off,” she said somberly. “Somebody set up a relay that destroyed the ‘Distorter Matrix’ for the nearest base. That happened at the moment when you became unconscious, after the ‘matrix’ had been used once.”
The technical words sounded strange coming from her lips, but presently only the meaning remained. In that first moment after his awakening, when his alertness had been subnormal, he had only partially grasped the implications of what she had said. It wasn’t that he hadn’t understood. He had. But his mind had leaped to the related but comparatively unimportant idea that this explained why the destroyer had for so long failed to answer videophone calls.
Now, he felt a chill.
Cut off, Leej had said. Cut off four hundred light-years from the nearest base. If the ship’s “Distorter” transport system had really been put out of commission, then they would be dependent on atomic drive with all the speed limitations of ordinary space-time travel.
He parted his lips, to speak. Leej knew virtually nothing of, science. The words she used must have been picked up during the past month. And they probably meant very little to her.
He had better find out as quickly as possible from more authoritative quarters the full extent of the catastrophe.
He turned and looked at the door, annoyed at the idea of being imprisoned. These people couldn’t possibly suspect what he could do with this extra brain. And therefore locked doors were childish barriers, irritating when there were so many things to do. He turned to question Leej.
She said quickly: “It’s not locked. We’re not prisoners.”
Her words anticipated his question. It made him feel good to be back again where such things were possible. He walked to the door.
It opened effortlessly. He hesitated, and then stepped across the threshold and out into the corridor.
It was silent and deserted.
He took a “photograph” of the floor just outside the door, and because he was intent, a second passed before he realized that he must have used his extra brain automatically at just about the time predicted by Leej.
He returned into the room, and stood looking at her. “Was that it?” he said. “Was that the moment?”
She had climbed to her feet to watch him. Now, with a sigh, she sank back into her chair. “What did you do?”
Gosseyn had no objection to telling her—except for one thing. “If you should ever be captured,” he explained, “a lie detector might obtain information from you that would be dangerous for us all.”
He shook his head at her, smiling. From the expression on her face he knew that she knew what he was going to say. But he said it anyway: “How did you do it?”
“I snatched your blaster.”
“You had a vision of the month ahead?”
She shook her bead. “Oh, no. The blur that started then continued throughout the month. But it was I who saw you slump to the floor.” She stood up. “It was all very simple, I assure you.”
Gosseyn nodded. He could see what she meant. Captain Free and Oreldon would have stood blank for a second, not realizing what was happening.
“They offered no resistance,” said Leej. “And I had them carry you to our room. But just a moment now. I have some soup for you.”
Our room, thought Gosseyn. It was a point which he had intended bringing up as gently as possible. He watched her as she walked swiftly out of the room. She came back a moment later, carrying a tray on which was a steaming bowl of soup. She was so friendly, so helpful she took their relationship so completely for granted, that he changed his mind about speaking to her just then.
He ate the soup, and felt much better. But when he gave her back the tray, his thoughts were already turning back to their deadly Situation.
“I’d better go and see Captain Free,” he said.
As he walked along the empty corridor, Venus and all the mighty events of the galaxy seemed very far away.
Captain Free opened the door of his room, and Gosseyn’s first impression was that he was ill. The stocky commander’s face was very pale, and there was a feverish look in his brown eyes. He stated at Gosseyn as if he were seeing a ghost. The color rushed abruptly into his cheeks.
“Gosseyn,” he said, and his voice was a croak, “what’s been the matter with you? We’re lost.”
Gosseyn stared at him, wondering if this exhibition of the emotion of fear explained the inefficiency which had enabled him to capture the destroyer. He said finally, quietly: “We’ve got work to do. Let’s do it.”
