STAR LEVEL
William Rotsler
FOREWORD
Born in 1926, WILLIAM ROTSLER was a
long-time and much-beloved, science fiction fan who began writing science
fiction in 1970. Before that he was a sculptor, whose work decorated the plaza
at the Los Angeles Police Department, a pioneer of adult filmmaking in
Star Trek fans may find something
uncannily familiar in the diction of the mostly unseen, but heard, alien
character.
STAR LEVEL
REED CARRAHER LOOKED into the great yawning mouth
of the two millimeter Colt laser and had a silly thought: Why wasn't his life
flashing before his eyes?
He looked up at the dark visor covering the
face of the Patrolman and said, "Yes?" He turned his head
deliberately and looked at the second blackclad Patrolman standing by the door.
"May I help you in some way?"
"Don't move. Don't even think about
moving, mudballer!" the nearest Patrolman snapped.
Be mild Be slightly frightened Be nervous. Be
confused.
"Are you confusing me with someone you
want?" he asked, with just the right amount of concern in his voice.
"Put your hands on top of your
head!" the Patrolman growled.
Stay calm.
"Of course, officer. But I don't see what
this has to do w—"
"Quiet!"
Reed Carraher was very still. He let his face
be mildly confused, with an expression that said, 'They'll get this
straightened out soon. They're only doing their duty. Be a good citizen and
cooperate."
"Whattya think, Bart?" the Patrolman
with the drawn gun asked.
"Looks close enough, I guess. Let's take
him in. He's the closest yet and we can have the night out in Ares."
"Get up!" A rough gesture with the
hand in a metalmesh glove.
"But—"
"Shut your flapping hatch!" A flick
of the laser barrel indicated the direction he wanted Carraher to go.
"Cuffs?" the other Patrolman asked.
The one with the gun snorted. "Him?
Hah!"
Outside a sleek dark Patrol flyer waited. Carraher climbed into
the back and the laser never left him. The flyer lifted, slid angularly towards
the airlock at the top of the dome, where it hovered while the great gates slid back. Then they were leaping
out into the dark Martian sky.
The dome cluster of Bradbury fell away and
they were streaking away over the strip mines towards Ares Center a thousand
kilometers away. Carraher knew they were going there because there was nothing
in between.
You have less than two hours. I have
calculated speed and direction. Observe and be ready to react.
"Listen, what's this all about, officers?
Where are you taking me? I have a dinner appointment with the General Manager
of Icemountain. I'll have to be back for that, you know."
The two blackclad men in front did not answer.
"What's it all about? I haven't done
anything. It can't be for that traffic control ticket I got at Northaxe
last month. I know I've been meaning to send them a credit memo, but ... well,
I mean, two Patrolmen for that ... well, it's silly."
"It's not a traffic violation, citizen,
as you well know," the pilot said in disgust.
"What is it then?" Carraher asked.
"Come on, you can tell me, can't you?" Put some whine in it.
"Can't you?"
The other Patrolman shrugged his shoulders and turned his head
to look through his dark shiny visor at the prisoner. "They want you at
headquarters. A guy named Compton got carved by a laser." Carraher felt
himselfbeing scrutinized. "You fit the description close enough." He
snorted. "They said you were dangerous. Those desk pilots probably think
their grandmothers are dangerous.
They've been stranded here so long they've forgotten how to handle
citizens." He snorted again and turned contemptuously towards the front.
Point Four is directly south three hundred
kilometers. Exterior temperature is twenty-one degrees. Altitude two thousand
There's another aircar two kilometers to the Northwest, headed for Grandcanal.
Carraher concentrated on the back of the head
of the Second Patrolman. He felt the tenseness in his muscles that was not so
much a tenseness as an awareness.
He funneled. He channeled. He pushed the
energy out of him.
The Patrolman nodded his head, caught himself,
shook his head, then dropped his chin to his chest.
"Hey, Bart, don't slag off now. Keep an
eye on that mudballer, will you? Hey! Dammit, if you're going to sleep the rest
of the way slap some cuffs on that guy, will you?"
Carraher's gaze went to the head of the pilot.
The Patrolman shook his head, grumbling and swearing. The flyer swerved and
dropped, but the black-clad pilot caught it and brought it up again.
"Goddammit, Bart—"
His head dropped to one side and the flyer
slanted off to the South. Carraher jumped forward and seized the controls,
righting the ship over the limp form of the Patrolman.
Carraher swore as he tried to steer the ship
with the unconscious body in the way. He stabbed in the stable flight button
then tugged and yanked for several minutes before he could get the heavy body
over the seat and dumped on the floor in back.
'What good is it?' he thought. 'They'll be
after me all the harder now.'
They were inefficient. They did not report
your capture. They were overconfident. But your disposal of them was adequate.
Unless you desire to kill them, they will awaken with no memory of where or when
you escaped.
'I'll keep roughly on this course for another
hundred kilometers, angling towards Point Four. Then I'll land, reset the flyer
and let them wake up somewhere up near Ares,' he thought, 'unless you have some
alternative.'
Negative. Once you found yourself in this
situation it was the best course to follow.
"You're implying I botched the whole
thing, aren't you?" Carraher said aloud. 'You know I had no choice but to
cut Compton and run,' he thought angrily.
There were choices. You did not reserve
sufficient time to analyze. You gave them a look at you, enough of an
identification to pick up all likely suspects.
'Well, why didn't you warn me? That's your
job!'
My tasks are well known to me. I was working
on a primary function, that of emptying Compton's mind You had administered the
drug, all you had to do was guardian duty.
"How can I concentrate with you using my mind like that?
Don't you know what it's like?" Carraher shook his head in irritation.
'It's like the docks at Sahara Central,' he thought viciously. 'Information
going through like torn up newspapers in a hurricane. Chunks. Gas. Lightning. And all the time it's
like you're screaming in my ear, forcing it out of him, gouging, prying,
cutting.' "And I'm supposed to keep watch! Hah!"
You've done it before. Winecup, on Ganymede.
Wilson. Haldeman in that crash on Gilgamesh. Krupp in New York. Coulson in
Calcutta. Vados in Sardinia. Craig on Little Zeus. All over the moons of
Jupiter, from Amalthea out to Vishnu and Thor. Here. Earth. Lindsay on Luna.
'I know, I know,' "I know!" 'But
it never happens to you! You don't know what 'it's like, standing in the
middle of that river, that flood of thought, of words, of memory—!'
That is true. Perhaps I was hasty in
condemning you. When we return to Base I will not counter a request for
transfer.
'You son of a bitch.' "You bastard."
'You know what this means to me. You're blackmailing me, you popping
mind-sucking frelk! You know it better than anyone in the Universe.'
That is true. Not even the Master spent as
much time in your mind as I have. He merely made the preliminary survey. I have
lived in it.
'Do you find it comfortable?' Carraher
wondered sarcastically.
As well as any I have tried. Would you be
comfortable in a spacesuit constructed for a child?
"Thank you, Secret Master of the
Universe," Carraher said.
You are being sarcastic. It is a common fault
of your kind. Faced with a problem that you find insoluable, you resort to
irony, humor, sarcasm, bitterness, apathy, fear and anger. They are primitive
reactions and seldom solve anything.
"Were you always pompous or did you study
it?"
Logic. Reason. Experience. Synthesis.
Evaluation. Action.
'Yes, I know. The path to knowledge. I can't
knock it, but its bare bones can be a bore, IOK. You can be a
bore, sometimes. IOX was a bore. IOR was something of a bloody bore.'
And IOZ?
Carraher turned to the unconscious Patrolman
slumped in the next seat and said, "Do you know the trouble with having
someone live in your mind twenty-four hours a day? It's like a house guest that
looks in your desk and in your dresser and reads your mail. That's what's wrong
with having a xeron in your head. In case you should ask."
IOZ gave you exotic dreams.
"I know IOZ gave me exotic dreams," Carraher
snapped. "I liked her best and I don't know why Base changed us."
You are aware we have no sexual differential.
Why do you persist in labeling?
'Because she was a she! She thought
like a she, she acted like a she. You are a he. IOX was an it. IOR was a
maybe.' "Get it?"
It is at moments like this that I question my
decision to become a Warder. Despite the Plan, there are times I sense that xeron and man shall never grow together.
"There are times like this," Carraher said, punching
out codes on the telex, "that I question my own goddamn sanity for letting
one of you alien basketballs into my
dome." 'I really do. You are nothing but trouble.'
Why do you persist in the pretense of anger?
It is not logical nor practical.
I know your true feelings. You are proud of
your association with us. The instant we sense a significant lessening of
interest and dedication we will confer and act.
"Do you make me blow my head off or do I
just go quietly insane?"
That is unworthy of you. You are quite aware
of the decontamination procedures. Honorable retirement on any of three worlds
and nine moons. A life of leisure and happiness. Waiting for you at any time
you desire. That was our pledge.
'Unless I get cut down first.' "Or
caught. Or snagged by the Patrol's Psych Group and my brain drained."
Your brain will not be drained. We promise you
that.
"Yesh," Carraher, said gloomily,
"that's what I'm afraid of."
Your continual pessimism did not stop you from
accepting our offer.
"So I believed you!" 'Maybe you
hypnotized me, I don't know. You convinced me you wanted to help man.'
Intelligence. Man is not the only intelligent
being.
'Okay, okay.' "Okay." 'So most of
mankind would think I was a traitor and the rest would think I was insane.
Helping an alien scoop out all the knowledge in carefully selected humans.'
We need to know certain things. We do not know
what we need to know. You and the others help. In the long view you realize we
are correct.
"Sometimes I do." 'Sometimes I
don't.' "It's weird having someone live in your head like
this!" 'It's not natural!'
It is natural to us. We use scores of host
races.
"Well ... Like the joke says, it seemed
like a good idea at the time."
Humans are a constant source of wonder. Their
reactions are so unpredictable at times. There is always a sense of danger
about you.
'Are you calling us savages?'
Such judgements are highly subjective. To us
you are savages. To the Thula we are savages, though they are too polite to say
so. You merely seem dangerous because of your unpredictability. You have come
remarkably far in a very short time.
'Thanks, loads.' "I'm going down
now."
The flyer sank abruptly and almost immediately
Ares Control called, asking why they had dropped off the scopes. Carraher
ignored them and swept to a landing on a rocky stretch in a wide, shallow
crater. Working as fast as he could he pulled the unconscious pilot back into
the seat, so that he might awaken somewhere and discover that their prisoner
had simply "vanished." He grabbed an airmask and tanks and moved to
the door.
He punched the takeoff button and leaped to
the rocky, sandy soil. He did not look up as the flyer jumped skyward. It would
sit down four more times, then clear the destination board and simply go west
until the pilot woke up.
Carraher started walking and the xeron said in his mind, That
way. The lithe young spaceman
turned slightly and continued walking, adjusting the airmask more tightly to
his face.
The air was thin and cold and the xeron turned
up his body heat to compensate, but kept the simulated fever from interfering
with other body functions. it cost calories and would need adjusting later, but
it would save time and energy.
Carraher was walking for over an hour when the
warning sounded in his head.
Flyer at 175° and coming fast.
Carraher trusted the xeron's experienced
use of his own sensing devices and jumped for the curve of a crater lip, hiding
in the shadow. He watched the yellow dot of a commerical flyer move across the
dark blue sky a few kilometers off.
Course computed. Wait until out of sight and
then continue.
Carraher watched until the ship disappeared
beyond a crater edge, then heaved himself up and started out again.
The sand dragged at his feet and the airmask
made his chest hurt. "Do something about the hunger, will you?" he
said aloud. The hollow feeling died away and his thrist calmed. Carraher knew
the toil it would take on his body to have all the warning signals suppressed,
but he had no choice.
When night came he curled up in a ball and
hugged himself. 'Put me to sleep for a couple of hours,' he thought at the xeron.
The sleep was instantaneous and dreamless. He was almost instantly awake
again, but he knew too well the terrible efficiency the xeron had over
many of his body functions.
He rose and his eyes seemed to penetrate the
darkness better and after three hours tiny Phobos rose to become a pale dot in
the black jewel case of the sky. Carraher fought the boredom by having IOK take
over the motor and visual functions and to continue walking his body across the
night desert while he luxuriated in fantasy.
Give me Earth, he said. Tahiti before the
white man. But this time throw in a few white women.
Your capacity for trivial escape mechanisms
amazes me. If you wish merely to be distracted from this purely mechanical act
of walking I could familiarize you with Acanthocephala or Coelenterata. They
are most interesting. I have been learning about these parasitic worms and
various jellyfish from IOG, who is with Bergin in the Mozambique Channel.
"IOK, will you for Christ's sake, just
never mind!" 'I want quiet and coolness and ease. And maybe a woman. I
haven't had a woman since Chris's Place.' "Just give me Tahiti with the
changes, huh?"
You are very uninformed in the sciences. You
do not have all the atomic weights correct, for instance. I could coach you.
I'll cool your interior sense and keep up the exterior warmth while‑
"IOK! "
Very well.
The dark bowl of night grew blacker then lightened and Carraher
heard the soft slap-slap of waves. He turned from the blue dome and there were
green trees, palms and wide-leaved tropical plants. The waves broke quietly on
the wide white beaches, protected from the sea by the reefs. He heard
children's laughter and under the
trees he saw the huts of a small village.
Beyond the trees the dark red cones of the
volcanos rose, impossibly steep, their lower sides skirted heavily in dark
green. Near him, playing in the surf were several brown-skinned young women,
slim and sleek and naked, their long black hair like bird's wings, stuck to
their shoulders and back. Their flesh was speckled with water jewels as they
frolicked naked and unashamed beneath a sun that had yet to see a thermonuclear
blast.
"Hello, Reed," a soft voice said near
him, just barely heard above the sound of waves and laughter. Carraher turned
and saw what he expected to see and hoped to see and thought he would never see
again, except in the illusions of his mind.
"Hello, Mara."
They looked at each other for a long time and
Carraher ran his eyes over the ripe perfection of her body, over the naked,
tanned skin, over the full, firm breasts, over the flat, taut stomach, down the
long, shapely legs.
Her eyes were the same, no matter what form he
made her body. Usually deep violet, but in bright sunlight they could be blue.
Last time, "on Earth," she had been slimmer, quicker, more demanding,
running in the untouched forest, legs wet with dew, falling laughing in a
meadow of flowers, opening her dress, reaching for him ... dancing and flying in the Astrobubble on
Station Two, weightless and gay, imaginary wings spreading wide, swooping and
kissing, he in his black uniform trimmed with scarlet, she in a shimmering
skintight that changed colors ... standing on the tip of Redrock with a sandstorm coloring the
sunset with glory, not needing airmasks because IOK had given Mars a crisp,
clean blanket of air ... a fresh clean world all new and untouched ... twisting and dipping, gods in space, perfect
bodies as long as a comet, using the Solar System as a playground, dodging
planets and laughing as they felt the flame of the Sun ... naked in the water, in the fish and
seaflowers and coral castles, never needing air, making love, playing games,
swimming, diving, finding a lost temple of Ishtar in sunken Atlantis ...
... Mara ...
... again ... not lost ... alive ... here ...
Reed Carraher took the warmly smiling girl into
his arms to kiss and the nearby maidens giggled in appreciation, their wet
shiny breasts jiggling. He swept her up into his arms and started for the
shore, knee-deep in the crystal waters. She snuggled into his shoulder as they
went up onto the beach, towards the cool shade, towards the bower of flowers,
towards the flood of love words, silent and spoken.
It was going to be a very nice walk to Point
Four, Carraher thought. They both smiled at the voluptuous brown-skinned
beauties and Reed walked across the fine sand of the coral beach and into the
trees.
The bower was there, heavy with the incense of nature, and the
wide soft bed of deep green moss. They looked at each other with shy smiles on
their faces, lovers twice a hundred times yet strangers, virgins on a new planet.
Reed touched her flesh, his fingertips tracing
a romance across her golden flesh. Her great blonde cascade of hair spread out
over the moss, over the world, a fine net of life and beauty and memory.
He lay next to her and she touched his lips, a
fingertip tracery with her smile of love beyond. Her breasts were firm and
smooth, with a hardening button in his palm, and her body arched towards him
...
... night ... torches and glistening flesh ...
a ring of dancers ... music ... moonlight on a world of water, silver and
purple ...
... warm days of sea and sun and sand, of
fruit and love and laughter ... seaweed forests and underwater coral sculpture
... waves and fish and flowers.
... a simple, happy people, brown and naked
and untouched.
... an innocent world . .
... a new world ...
... and Mara...
We are almost there.
The trees overhead shimmered and blurred. The
silken skin, beaded with moisture and warm with love, slowly disappeared. The
moss bed darkened. The sky was black, without stars, and then it was dark blue
and a Martian day.
Carraher took another step and stopped, crying
out with pain. "Hey! What the hell were you doing with my body! My knees
are—ouch!—banged raw and my elbow—"
A Patrol craft approached us twice. I did not
think it necessary to remove you from your Dream while I hid your body.
"Did you have to be so rough?"
Carraher examined his bloody elbow through a rip in his suit. He was aware of
weakness and dehydration and a general soreness. His airmask chafed badly and
his lips were split and dry.
They came over at high velocity. I had to
reduce your body heat below the level of their infrared detectors. I am sorry
if I have injured your flesh, but the alternative was not viable.
"Uh ... okay, thanks. I know you did your
best." 'Thanks for those days with Mara, though. But I just asked for a
variation. Just a few zoftic white women in with the regular natives,
just for variety.'
If you would permit me someday to indoctrinate
you in the IOC-IOM disciplines you could contact the deeper portions of your
mind and achieve a truer whole.
"In other words, you read me that I
wanted Mara." 'Is nothing sacred? How much do you peek and don't tell me?
Are you going to say you know me better than myself?'
I am a Fourth Level adept, a moka in the
IOC-IOM disciplines.
And that's the answer I deserve, I suppose,
Carraher thought. "Where are we?"
Point Four is one kilometer straight ahead.
They know we are here.
Carraher walked over a low ridge, the worn
remnant of an ancient crater, and down into the inconspicuous jumble of rocks
and mud cracks and craterlets that was the hidden entrance to Point Four.
That way. Into that crack. Stop. IOR will open
the entrance.'
IOR's here? Who is he with? Uh, who is it, er,
IOR with?'
Was that humor or indecisiveness?
'Aha! Something you can't understand?'
Carraher grinned and then put his fingers to his cracked lips as he felt the
blood flow. 'Damn!'
Interpretation of alien thought symbols is not
yet perfection, for it differs from individual to individual.
'Maybe I have a place to hide in my own head,'
Carraher thought quietly to himself.
Only if we permit it.
"Oh, will you open this goddamn
hole?"
The ground yawned-and dilated
before him as rocks moved aside and cracks widened. Carraher walked down into
the darkness and the rocks swung closed over his head. His eyes dilated quickly
and he walked towards a darker rectangle to the left, then down a slanting
corridor into darkness.
'Who else is here?' Carraher asked listlessly.
The repair work on his body was going to be a bore, even with IOK's help.
IOR ... IOT'moki ... IOZ...
"IOZ?" Gladness and warmth welled up
in Carraher. IOZ had been fun, like having a beautiful weekend guest, always
considerate and friendly.
You are criticizing me?
'Goddamn it, IOK, will you stop listening to everything
I think?'
You prefer IOZ? I find that difficult to
comprehend. IOZ is only a Third Level adept. A moka, it is true, but only at
the Third Level.
Carraher laughed. "Did I hurt your
nonexistent ego? Aw, poor baby ..."
It is only logical that you would prefer the
highest level adept. If you were able to accept a Fifth Level adept, even a
barlwan, I should not question it. It would only be logical.
Carraher turned into the hatch at the end of
the dark corridor and went through a silent decontamination room.
'There's a lot you have to learn about human
relationships, IOK. Even about human-xeron relationships. All of you in your morrea
nest better run it through the disciplines again.'
Yes, we have begun a trial discipline.
'Umm, fast.' "Which way?"
Right. The others wait in the central room.
Carraher walked confidently through the dim
rooms, his physical pain blunted. "Who is IOZ with?"
A female of your race.
Before Carraher had much time to digest that
information a hatch dilated and he stepped through into the bright light of the
central room.
"Reed!" Carraher stared at the
totally unfamiliar and totally familiar form of a well-built brunette in a gray
jumpsuit.
'Mara! No ... not Mara ... you don't even look
like Mara ...' "IOZ?"
"Yes!" the girl said, delight in her
voice. Ignoring the two others, both men, the girl launched herself across the
room at Reed Carraher and they embraced as old friends. She raised a shining,
smiling face up to his and they kissed. One of the men sighed wearily and the
other made a small, rather strangled sound.
"Hello, Reed," the brunette said.
"I'm Mina. Mina Wallace."
"Hello, Mina ... Hello, IOZ."
"Hello, Reed Carraher. It is a gladness
that we meet again." The words came from Mina's soft red mouth but Reed
immediately sensed the difference.
Are you finished?
"Let them alone, IOK," Mina said.
"Oh, very well," Reed heard himself
say, "but let's get on with it."
"IOZ told me IOK was a drudge," Mina
said.
"IOZ is no fool. IOK is a raincloud
looking for a place to turn himself inside out."
Why do you insult me?
"Let them alone," Mina said,
frowning up Reed's forehead.
"Yeah, let us alone," Reed said,
tasting the blood on his lips again as he smiled. "I'm greeting an old-new
friend."
"Let's get you started healing up,"
Mina said, smiling. "That hurts, kissing a mouth like that."
"It hurts on this end, too," Reed
said.
Please. Salute the others.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry." Reed walked
towards the two men, also in grey jump suits. "I'm Reed Carraher ... and
IOK ... but of course, you know that."
"Yes," said the older of the two, a
paunchy, moody-looking, dark-haired man in his late forties. "I'm Webster
Gianelli. This is Torbert Minden."
Carraher turned towards the other man, a slim,
graceful, gray-haired man in his late thirties, who smiled and said, "How
do you do? I am with IOT'moki and of course Webster is with IOR."
Reed shook their hands and then let Mina pull
him away towards a bright white dispensary where she rubbed salve on his wounds
and made him lie down on a soft-topped table under a Healer.
I have begun reconstruction of the damaged
tissues. The girl will bring you food. When you have eaten you should sleep.
Would you like a Dream?
"You sound as if you are going
away."
In a sense. The Healer will require several
hours and I must confer with IOT'moki about the Plan. The Fourth Level Conclave
is engaging the Third Level Comilla in the k'stals. I have entered myself in
the xxxTerm Callidity and must prepare that portion of my being. Within one
time period it will be my duty of obligation and I must be certain I have
purged all channels so that the energy flow is unimpaired.
"All at once?"
Of course these functions are concurrent. It
would be grossly inefficient not to use every portion of your being in as many
levels as you are capable of handling at peak levels of service.
"When IOZ was with me she didn't go on
like that. She thought of fantastic images for me and delights that were a
great deal of fun."
Must I remind you again that IOZ is Third
Level and therefore neither capable of nor likely to be of service to her race,
her morra nest or even her
host.
"But she was fun."
Great Egg. I shall never rise to Fifth Level.
You humans will corrupt me and I shall never rise higher. Your devious insanity
will stain my thinking and I shall be cast out.
"A dedicated public servant like you?
Never? Ah, here's Mina!"
The girl entered with a tray of food and
drink, all in fanciful goblets and good plastic copies of Royal Martian china.
"Here, my lord, the choice of the larder. Drink! Eat!"
Reed tore his eyes away from the smiling girl,
wondering about his sudden strange feeling of warmth upon seeing her. Was it
just that she was with IOZ? The two together seemed more fitting than even the
closeness they had shared, and Reed was quite pleased. Two friends in one. And
such a beautiful friend.
"Been here long?" he asked around a
mouthful of analog-chicken.
"Point Four or Mars?"
"Marshxxx ... " He washed it down
with a crimson goblet of blue wine.
"On Mars a year, ever since I graduated
from college. Just jumped on a ship and still had on my mortar board when I
docked. I've been here at Point Four for a month. IOZ and I gulped an engineer
around at Welles and had to hide out."
"Why all the way around the planet? Why
not go to ground at Touchdown Station or out near Northaxe where that new
station is?"
"I dunno, IOZ said here." There was
a slight pause and then she continued. "I perceived that if your
assignment with Compton required you to go to ground it would be here, and I
wanted you two to meet."
Mina's smile faltered and she blushed.
Carraher swallowed the wedge of blossom cheese and grinned into Mina's
dark eyes. "Why, you sneaky match-maker you!"
I informed her it would be counter productive
but she did it nevertheless.
'Are you back?'
IOT'moki is conferring with his nest. The
Conclave and the Comitia are changing the rules to fit the Artala. My duty
period has yet to begin and I am well on the way to purging my channels.
'So you're still hanging around?'
Until the designers of the Plan reassign me
some portion of my being shall always be with you. Always. No matter where you
are. Even if you were dead, I would remain in some energy pocket to be certain
the body was disposed of to the satisfaction of the Planners.
'Ask a stupid question and you get more answer
than you need.'
"You'd better relax," Mina said.
"The Healer works better that way." She bent over Carraher as he lay
back and her lips were close to his. "Do you believe in love at first
sight?"
"No, do you?"
"No." She kissed him lightly on the
corner of his mouth. "But I'm always having my beliefs shattered."
Reed smiled at her and this time there was no
taste of blood. "There are times I resent being steered around like some
kind of bio-car. But this isn't one of them."
"Do you feel like a pawn in the great
chess game in the sky?"
"Yes. Mostly I kept wandering over to
other squares but today ... today I've been captured by a queen."
"Sleep ... Get well. We have things to
do," Mina said.
"Sleep, Reed Carraher, and heal,"
she said.
"Goodnight, Mina ... 'Night, IOZ
..." 'Take me down, IOK."
Blackness came so fast Reed did not have time
to ask for a Dream. But then, he didn't really need one.
AWAKEN
"Huh? Oh." 'Oh, that's better.
Everything's fixed, huh?'
Your tissues have been regenerated I have made
certain modifications in your facial structure and your voice identification
pattern.
"Dammit, you should have consulted
me!" 'Hey, I do sound different! What did you do to my face?'
Carraher swung from the table and stepped
towards a mirror. He stared at the new face dumbly.
He was different ... but the same. No, more
different than same.
There was only so much I could do with the
time available. Given a much longer time I could alter your fingerprints and
retinal patterns. I sense pleasure in you.
"You did consult me after all. I ..." 'I look like a composite of all the men I have admired.'
"I'm taller, I think."
Two centimeters.
"But why?"
A world wide telecast named you, by name, as
the assassin of the scientist Compton. They broadcast a telefax of you and
holos are being distributed
Carraher sighed, then grinned at his image.
"Not bad."
I shall never understand the mysteries of the
human ego. What possible difference does a physical exterior make? The
essential you remains untouched.
"You've been giving me Dreams, doesn't
that give you a hint?"
I have merely been detailing fantasies that
already exist in your mind. A First Level adept could do as well. IOZ left
codings in your mind for me to use, if I desired
"Okay, all right! I don't understand you,
either." 'Now what? Where's Mina?'
While you slept the Conclave was assembled and
it was decided that you human agents should attend.
"Why? Can't you just tell each of us
what's happening?" 'It's safe here. I'd like to just hide out awhile and
let things blow over.'
There is no time anymore. Events are
progressing at a faster rate than anticipated. Our accelerated program of
information acquisition has brought us important new information.
"You go." 'I'll stay here with Mina
and get acquainted.'
Negative. The Conclave has determined that a
Focus might be necessary. There is a need for a physical closeness between xerons and humans. Telepathic power is
subject to the square root law just as any other power. With togetherness we
can bring our powers to the highest peak.
"Oh, very well. But where do we go? I
have no idea where the Nest is."
You will know when the time is appropriate.
'Secretive bastard.' "Okay, when?"
As soon as possible. It will be necessary to
abandon Point Four and destroy it when we leave. They will detect our leaving
the planet and backtrack us to this site.
"Okay, let's go!" Carraher took one
last glance at his own image and left the Healer room grinning.
In the main room he found everyone assembled and saw their
expressions as they absorbed his new
appearance. Mina did not restrain her admiration.
"Ummm ..." she said, saying a lot.
"Quite attractive," she said again
and Reed sensed I0Z speaking.
"Did you really assassinate
Compton?" Mina asked.
"Yes and no," Reed answered.
"IOK was emptying Compton's mind. You know what that's like. But this was
the fastest yet and I ... I was confused and distracted. The security guards
surprised us and started shooting. I had to fire back or be killed. Compton got
in the way and ... I cut him down with a laser. I felt bad about that. We've
always left them alive before."
"I don't like it either," Mina said.
"It is a necessary but regrettable
action," said Webster Gianelli, who was with TOR "A portion of the
Plan will be revealed to you at the Conclave."
"Only a part?" Reed said.
Torbert Minden spoke, and Carraher realized it
was IOT'moki speaking. "There are levels of the Plan. It is not necessary
that lower levels know or understand the All."
Carraher grinned. "There are some things
man was not meant to know, huh?" 'Name one,' he thought.
It would be advisable to exercise caution.
'Watch my mouth?'
Affirmative. There is no need to agitate
friction. We all have work to do.
"Let us leave," Gianelli said.
They went through another airlock and down a
long curving passage, then slightly upward to another airlock. Inside was the
first xeron spaceship Carraher had seen, a forty-foot egg-like vessel
virtually featureless.
We adapted several ships for human use. Humans
are larger and require a higher complexity of life support systems. For xeron use this would be a very large ship.
"Where are the acceleration
couches?" Mina asked, looking around at casual-looking low padded benches.
They are not required.
The Martian desert split above them and the
ship lifted off effortlessly. Torbert Minden lay on a couch with a glowing red
ball suspended near his head. He appeared to be asleep.
Carraher exchanged looks with Mina and they shrugged
and went to explore the ship. There were common sleeping quarters which caused
Mina to blush slightly.
Another cabin held more casual couches and
another floating globe, this one a deep blue, shot with half-glimpsed dots of
light, like furry stars.
"Who built this ship?" Reed asked.
It is of Dubrian design and manufacture. The
type is Crevlar-mulmato and the classification is Minor Vessel, Star Class.
"You mean we could ... go to the stars in
this thing?"
Affirmative. The Dubrians are one of the many
races of this galaxy which use space travel. They are honored members of the
Galactic Council and supply many races with vessels for exploration.
'You mean the xerons did not have space
travel?'
Our explorations have been in other areas. The
Dubrians are scientists. They discovered this system while mankind was still in
the caves. They established a station for observation around Jupiter.
Your largest planet has many unique properties
and they made a long study of it. But something happened and the entire party
was lost on the surface of the planet. The station remained unoccupied until it
was discovered by asteroid miners. The technology they acquired was
instrumental in their revolution and independence from the central Terran
government.
'So that's where all that great stuff
came from!' "I thought they'd been developing their own technology."
That was their desired impression. But the
accidental evacuation of the Dubrian station meant that man was not monitored
until recent times and by then it was too late. Drastic action was and is
necessary. With the acquisition of Dubrian technical knowledge mankind took a
much bigger step forward than it was socially prepared to do.
"So what are we going to do?" Mina
asked, shooting a glance at Reed as if to explain the same speech was in her
head, too, relayed through IOZ.
Humans have proved much more difficult to
handle than anticipated. We are not superbeings and man has become more
intelligent faster than the primary surveys indicated
"Man is a clever monkey," Reed said.
"And drastic action is needed," Mina
said sadly.
The adaptation of the Dubrian star-drive is
almost complete. Four ships have been constructed and provisioned in lunar
orbit. In a matter of weeks the drive will be tested and explorers and colonists
selected. We must act swiftly.
"But why not just let them go?" Mina
asked.
Mankind is not mature. Not yet. We are not
trying to stifle man but to help and guide him into the conclave of races. If
he goes now into the stars he will be a disruptive force. If sufficient
disruption is made the consensus will surely be to force mankind back to a
pre-scientific age and to begin all over again. The next time he will be fully
and carefully monitored
"Controlled?" asked Reed.
Watched. But we hope for a better solution. To
mature man first so that he might not need to suffer the rejection and pain of
a realignment. Thus we have conceived the way for man to fit into the Plan for
the galaxy.
"But if we're not capable of maturity ...
we get blasted back to the caves?" Carraher was both sad and angry.
How do you tell a child that he has not
matured sufficiently to handle responsibility? So that he will believe it?
'I see what you mean,' thought Reed, 'though I
hate to think of Mankind as some kind of felon or beast.'
We are an ethical race. Our ultimate goal is
to secure the cooperation of humans in preparing them for galactic acceptance.
But if they achieve a star drive before they are sufficiently mature we would
have no choice but to return you to the pre-scientific levels.
"Damn!" snapped Carraher. "I
hate being told what to do like this!"
There is little choice.
"Listen," Reed said. "Why don't
we go to Earth and broadcast the whole story. We could demonstrate some of
the—say, could all the xerons together
give all of mankind a Dream, all at once?"
It is possible. We would all need to go there
at once. The dream would be adequate but not as vivid as yours. No. The risk is
too much. All of us together would be too great a risk if the reaction was
violently against us.
"Then our advances in technology have
been far greater than our social and humane advances?" Mina asked.
Your technological advance was accidental. It
must be corrected before unrestricted star flight would be permitted.
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue sea
..." muttered Reed.
"And the Conclave at the Nest is to
determine policy?"
Affirmative. Why do you not use the blue
sphere here to entertain yourselves? It has a different effect than supplying
you with Dreams from your own mind. It can blend two minds by electronic
telepathy and the effect is unusual.
"What do we do?" Reed asked.
Lie on the couches. Think out to each other.
It will happen. You have two hours before arrival.
Mina looked at Reed and a faint flush colored
her face. Her expression said Want to? Reed nodded and they lay down on
the couches, feeling eager but self-conscious.
"What do we think about?" Reed asked
aloud.
There was no answer but the floating globe
began to flicker with interior light. It seemed to spin without spinning and
Reed's attention was riveted on it.
An alien ball, floating in an alien ship ... an alien in your mind ... Electronic telepathy ...
Mina ... Mina ... Mina ... that instant recognition that had xxcexperienced ...
Lights spinning . .. spinning into the
room, into their heads ...
Mina ...
Reed ...
A warmness ... a pleasure doubled ... a
pleasure shared ...
Space around ... stars ... Mina ... Reed ...
Mina/Reed ... Reed/ Mina ...
A oneness ...
Not a physical oneness ... but a fitting
together ... you are the other half of me ... the words that are not
words ... a blending, a sharing, a oneness ...
Moving ... spinning ... bodies and
minds and souls merged like gases stars collide ... a recognition of self in
the other ... there is "other" and there is
"self" . .. doubled and doubled and doubled ...
without the zerons ... by themselves ... they were doing it ... their minds kissed,
their body-mind floated and fountained and was fiery and cold and flowing and
one and two ...
A spinning galaxy ...
A spinning world ...
A spinning globe ...
Awakening ...
Reed turned his head to look at Mina with his
new face and with a new mind. She stared at him, wordless, her eyes searching
his.
"You could never tell anyone and make
them understand," Reed said. "Never."
Now you have had a glimpse of the xeron existence.
"My god," Mina said softly.
We are almost at the Nest.
"Where are we?" Reed asked.
You should not know. What you do not know you
cannot reveal, even inadvertantly. The ship will be encased in the Nest's
enclosure. If you attempt to look out your eyesight will be removed
temporarily.
"I bet we're in the Jovian system. One of
the moons or maybe some chunk of rock floating around. Of course, the Nest
could be in the Asteroids. Ceres or Vesta or maybe Pallas. No, they have
auto-stations. Eunomia, maybe. Hidalgo .. . Amor .. . hmm ..."
"It doesn't matter, Reed," Mina
said. "We shouldn't know."
"It's hard to calculate, this ship moves
so differently ... we could be at Pluto, for Christ's sake."
"Reed," Mina pleaded, "forget
it." Mina put her arms around Reed and got his attention. "Let's do
something we've never done before, okay?"
Carraher's face broke into a wide grin. He put
a hand on top of her dark head and tilted up her face. They looked at each
other for a long moment and the smiles faded and they knew that an important
thing had come to pass between them. Reed bent his head and they kissed, long
and hard and well.
"That other kiss ..." Mina said,
"that was IOZ. This was me. The first time."
We have arrived. We must disembark.
Reed and Mina walked back through the ship to
the airlock arm in arm and a foolish grin tugged at the corners of Reed's
mouth. When he saw the portly Gianelli and the lean, gray Minden he could not
help himself and broke into a delighted laugh.
"We've just had the most extraordinary
experience—!"
"Yes, yes," Gianelli said with
irritation, "Let us get into the Nest."
Reed grinned at him, feeling smug and
benevolent. He helped Mina out of the hatch and through a short translucent
duct into another airlock.
They emerged into a corridor, cut in rock and
melted smooth. The passage led to a central chamber, where there were low
couches.
"Where are the xerons?" Carraher
asked.
It is not necessary that we become physically
confronted. The nearness of us all is sufficient.
"You guys must be really xxxooogly,"
Reed laughed. "Think we can't take it?"
Over a hundred people were in the room,
patiently waiting. Some were Dreaming. There were no introductions and they
arranged themselves at various spots casually. Torbert Minden showed one of the
men how to use the liquid dispenser and drinks were handed around. The Dreamers
awoke.
`Well?' Reed asked IOK.
The Third Level Comitia has disengaged from
the Conclave and is involved in a portion of the Plan.
"Are we the only humans here?" asked
one of the men.
"Yes," Minden answered. "There
was no time to get others."
"All normal xeron activity has
been cancelled," a woman said.
"We are on alert status everywhere,"
one of the men said.
We begin.
Everyone turned or moved, although there was no focal point.
Most just stared at the wall.
Xeron actions have come to the xxxdetention of
the Terran governments. They had presumed it was the work of the United Jovian
System until the human called Langley was given command of the force opposing
us.
Carraher could not identify the thoughts of
the xeron speaking to them and presumed it was that of the Fifth Level
adept who commanded the xeron force.
Langley is the human genius who achieved the
breakthrough in understanding and adapting the Dubrian star-drive to Terran
technology.
'But the stardrive's not finished—!'
There are only the final modifications and
testing left. Langley saw patterns in our investigations and was intrigued. We
fascinate him and unfortunately he is in possession of a few facts that we
thought unimportant. He formulated theories and found means to check them and
has discovered too much.
Carraher felt a sudden elation. The xerons could
be fooled! They could be out-thought! It took a genius but it had been done!
Those of his aides and those in the government
who know about us, or about the mystery they attribute to us, are angry and
resent our guidance as intrusion. They will be extremely difficult to persuade
that the Plan is of the utmost importance.
"How has this affected the Plan?"
one of the men asked.
The Plan needs modification and quick
execution. The governments of Earth are very disturbed about the sabotaging of
their star drive. They believed it was a parochial reaction of the Jovian
government, but now that they believe it is the result of extraterrestial power
they resent the intrusion even more and think it is an attempt to keep mankind
from the stars.
"Is it?" Reed asked and several
people looked at him, including Mina.
No. Only to delay. To contain mankind in this
system until he is mature enough to accept his galactic responsibilities is our
only desire.
"Perhaps you are wrong. Perhaps even the
best intentions are wrong." Carraher felt trapped in the role of Devil's
Advocate, but his conscience compelled him to ask.
We are not gods, Reed Carraher.
"Less than gods and more than men?"
Carraher asked.
Different. Not better. Not worse. Different.
Different powers, different goals, different races. But the Plan was not
conceived just for this tiny system. It is the Plan for the galaxy, conceived
by a conclave of races over twenty million of your years ago, and adhered to
ever since. Yours would not be the first race returned to a savage level, nor
will it be the last. There have been other races obliterated, races so savage
and so immune to sane persuasion that they were imprisoned. eliminated, or
radically amended.
"Will that happen here?"
We do not know. We sincerely hope not. Mankind
has a vigor and a vitality far above the average. Your quick growth in the
sciences attests to that.
"But we're just savages with lasers,
cavemen with spaceships?"
To some of the races of the galactic conclave
you are just that.
"Suddenly I feel like a traitor to my own race," Reed said and two of the men
nodded.
"Don't feel that way, Reed," Mina
said, touching his sleeve. "The Plan is a sensible one. The use the xerons
makes of us is logical. They need a mobile focusing point, a sensory
pickup."
"And someone to stick the drug into
another human to eat his mind in a gulp." Reed found himself glaring
around at the circle of humans.
"But the person is not destroyed. The
information is replaced as fast as it is taken and recorded. You know
that." Mina looked up at him with concern.
"And Compton is dead," Reed said
bitterly.
The death of the human is regrettable but your
guilts are not the concern of this Conclave. Plan modifications must be made
and executed. Our use of humans was only logical. We needed to find out the
specifics of the Dubrian adaptations. We have decided upon the area of action
so that the quickest and best result will come from the least effort.
"What are we to do?" asked Gianelli.
Our agents on Earth and Luna have concentrated
upon locating Langley. He is the key. If we can convince him of our intentions
much time and a great amount of energy will be saved. As soon as he is located
we will focus upon him and the power of the assembled Conclave will overcome
his defenses. He will be ours.
"That's not convincing him,"
Carraher said angrily. "That's rape!"
We have no time for subtle methods.
"Those aren't 'Bad Guys' down there on
Earth! They believe sincerely in what they're doing!"
Mina put a cautionary hand on Reed's sleeve.
Kagor of Thembis believed in what he thought
was right and destroyed two billion beings. Both sides of the Torrus were
'right' but they destroyed three planets. Blar-kla-mon killed only three
hundred beings but he destroyed the future of his race forever. Molanu was
`right' and Jillik 1 Borad was 'right' but now two entire star systems are
dust. Shall we go on?
"Okay, forget it." Carraher sighed.
How can you argue with someone for whom the galaxy and umpteen billions years
of history is part of his heritage?
It is known that Langley has attempted in
various ways to discover our whereabouts, even though he has no idea who or
what we might be. He is unusually intelligent.
"Is he star level?" Mina asked.
Carraher looked curiously at her. 'Evidently,'
he thought, 'there are things that she and IOZ discuss that I don't know.'
There was a long pause, almost as if the xerons
were either reluctant to answer or still pondering the question. Then the
voice in their heads said, Perhaps.
"Well, what do we do?" one of the
men asked. "Just sit here until he finds us?"
All of those not here are attempting to locate Langley. Until
then there is nothing to do. He could be anywhere. Apparently he keeps his
person secretive. There is even evidence that he might be telepathic, for it
was only he who found the proper analogues between the Dubrian technology and
his own. The Dubrian ships are controlled by telepathic computers and an intelligent telepath might
find out more quickly the secrets of an alien system.
"How long do we wait?" another man
asked.
We do now know. Rest. When he is found there
will be much to do.
Reed turned to Mina and said, "Let's look
around."
"Looking for another blue globe?"
she asked, a smile spreading across her serious expression. Carraher grinned
and took her hand and led her through the milling humans and down a passage.
The Nest seemed to be cut from solid rock, the
passages cut and sheared and melted smooth into wide, low corridors and the
rooms small but compact. There were many communal sleeping quarters but no
single rooms.
"Only a race without sexes would think that
was a good idea," Reed said, looking at their second communal sleeping
room.
"They seemed to have constructed this
place for humans, though," Mina said, looking into another room,
apparently a recreational section.
"What I'm looking for," Reed said,
prowling along the corridor with Mina in tow, "is a blue globe ..."
"Ah!" Mina said cheerfully.
Seven rooms later they found a series of small
rooms, each with a floating blue sphere and around it, low and wide, were seven
radiating couches, like flower petals.
Reed looked at the couch arrangement and said,
"That must be something. Seven minds merging."
"Incredible," Mina whispered. She
tugged at Reed's hand and they lay down on couches.
"I'm beginning to think this is better
than sex," Reed sighed, wiggling back into comfort.
"You're hooked," Mina said with mock
distaste.
"Yup ... on you. And if this
isn't the fastest, best way to get to know the inside of your head I'd sure
like to know about it."
"How do we start it, anyway," she
asked. "Just think it on?"
"Let's try." On. Start. Begin.
The tiny flicks of lightning flashed through
the blue globe. The spinning started and the two humans stared in fascination at the alien sphere over their heads.
... faster ...
... faster ... a whirling through void, through a nebulous
gas ... then stars were flung into space, flaring
balls of fire ... suns were born ...
... there were stars in their heads ... spinning galaxies of
stars, moving away, pinwheels of starfire arcing off into void ...
... Reed?
... Mina!
... It's fantastic! I'm—I'm frightened—but it's incredible—!
... It's all of
space! It's bigger this time! The Universe!
... Giant gas clouds were shining in the blackness, lit by the
burning hearts of a million suns, and they were drifting past, light-years
long, with stars bursting and dying within, new stars forming, gleaming ...
... Nebulae ... star clusters ... gleaming, shinningxxc walls of stars ... galaxies on edge,
spinning past, a mosaic of fiery electrons ...
... a glimple of something beyond ...
... what's that?
... another universe?
... beyond that!
... the beginning? The end? God?
... the two of them were swollen beyond galaxies, their minds
expanding faster than light ... galaxies were growing smaller ...
... Reed ... Reed, it's too much to hold!
It's so beautiful! So vast!
... I love it!
... Reed . . flow into me ... make
me part of you ...
... colliding universes ...
... a flowering ...
... spinning ... joining ... flowing
... being ...
... stars were born, grew old and red, and
died ...
... galaxies turned, flinging long starry arms
out into the void ...
... time stretched and stretched ... meaningless time ...
... Reed! I love you, Reed!
... Bursting ... BURSTING ... BURSTING!
... I love you ...
... you are me ... I am you ...
we are one ...
... it was the beginning of time ... galaxies of bright burning
stars exploded out through the dusty nebulae ... catapulted into blackness,
populating it with light ...
... Reed!
... Mina!
... two parts of oneness, crying across the infinite void to capture
itself ...
... to become ...
... to be ... Reed and Mina ...
... a spinning world ...
... a whirling globe ...
... dying starpoints within the blue xxshere ...
... to lie, gutted and spent and weak, shorn
of ego and identity and memory ...
... to swim back ...
... to return ...
... to be Reed ...
... to be Mina ...
... to be separate, yet forever one ...
... to be Reed and Mina lying on couches in an alien Nest ...
Along silence. A soft silence, broken only by
breathing. A long sigh. "Ohh, Reed ..." Mina's hand fluttered weakly.
"If ... if this is an example of how it
is in the stars ... then I'm for
doing anything I can to help ... it's ... fantastic."
"But it's you and I, Reed. We did it, the
sphere only focused us."
"Then Man better get out into the stars!
But not if going to soon and too unprepared will screw it up. We can't lose the
chance! It's too important."
"Reed ..." Mina put out her hand and
Carraher took it.
"Honey, if that's what we can do on our
second trip out I'm not so sure we'll come back next time. That's potent
stuff."
"I won't worry if you are along ... and I'm not going unless you are," Mina said, slipping from
the couch to lie next to Reed, who embraced her.
"Don't worry, baby, I—"
We are under attack! The Nest is in danger!
Reed Carraher jumped to his feet and pulled
Mina with him. "Where? What's happening? What do we do?"
Six ships of the United Earth fleet are
approaching from Callisto.
"Then we are in the Jovian system!"
Reed cried.
They fired four atomic missiles but we activated
the defenses of the four ships and the Nest. Two more ships have joined the
fleet from Callisto. They are coming around Jupiter now.
"How do they know where we are?"
Reed demanded as they raced along the corridor. Other humans were running for
the airlocks and the ships.
No time for that. The Conclave states that the
oncoming ships will be too much for the defenses to handle. We must outrun
them.
Suddenly the-. running humans all
stopped and changed direction. Reed and Mina felt compelled to follow. They ran
down another corridor and straight at a blank smooth rock wall.
The rock split and swung back and the humans
raced through without stopping. Inside was a large room carved from rock. The
air was thin and strangely scented and the light was dim and red. Around the
walls were bins filled with strange rotting fruit the size of watermelons. Reed
leaped for one particular bin and even as his body reacted, swiftly but gently
scooping up the great tan and black fruit, he realized what they were.
The Xerons!
Reed spun and started running for the
entrance, seeing that each of the humans scooped up one of the xerons and
was racing back. They were heavy, a full armload to carry gently, and had a
fragile, feel to them.
Reed saw Mina cuddling a tan and black melon to
her breast as she dodged past older and slower humans to race out with her
precious cargo. They sprinted down the corridor and back towards the airlocks.
'How did they know?' Reed thought furiously.
They transmitted to a passive signaling device
concealed in the xxccorns of three of the humans. The tuned circuit returned a
signal they could trace.
"Who were the traitors?" Reed
snarled.
Mina was one.
Ahead, Reed saw Mina falter and throw him a
frightened, bewildered look over her shoulder. She struck the wall with her
shoulder, staggered and ran.
"How?" 'Why?'
Unknown. Unknown. We are penetrating deeply
into the minds of—answer found. Langley. He is of star level after all. He put
together several counterforces on several levels and in different areas—faster
than we conceived a human could correlate the sparse facts he had.
Reed jumped through the hatch into the Dubrian
ship along with several others. They deposited the xerons on couches and
started back for the rest.
Stop. There is no time. The rest know their
fate.
"But we can still save some!" a man
shouted.
No time. Activate ship.
The hatches closed and there was a faint
whirring.
We are in space. The Terran fleet is still out of laser range
and the atomic missiles are being
deflected by Nest's defenses. When the ships are closer they will be able to
reinforce the energy and overcome the deflectors.
"Where are we going?" Reed asked.
Earth. We will outrun the fleet and appear to
be heading out of the plane of the ecliptic. With stardrive we will go far out
and around and approach Earth from the other side.
"Why Earth? Oh ... Langley's there?"
Affirmative. He is our only hope. If he is
truly of star level he will understand. He must understand.
Suddenly Reed remembered what the xeron had
said earlier. "But you said Mina was one of the traitors! I can't believe
that!"
Mina looked white.
She was the unwitting pawn of Langley. One of
the counterforces he erected was a group of agents who had been implanted with
passive devices in corns and old scars and other insensitive areas. Xerons find it distasteful to enter any
more of the host's body than is absolutely necessary, thus the devices
concealed in areas serviced with little or no blood escaped undetected.
"But you must have detected
something!" Reed was aghast.
Mina Wallace was known to be on Mars and when
our ship left and Point Four detonated behind us they activated the frequency
her device was on. It was a tuned circuit and retransmitted the signal.
Apparently the first signal accidentally came during your first use of the mind
focuser.
"And the computers gave them the orbit to
the Nest," Reed said wearily.
Mina cleared her throat and said, "Reed,
I didn't know."
"I know, baby."
"Those poor xerons."
Do not feel guilt. There were two others. You
were unknowing. We compute that bringing so many humans to one spot to allow
for a strong focusing caused a focal point in the tracing of their agents.
"But why me?" Mina asked.
Langley perceived a pattern. We were
investigating in one main area, that of how advanced man's adaptation of the
Dubrian stardrive might be. Langley seeded the most likely areas with implanted
agents. Our selection of those we work through is partially dictated by their
ability to move in the area we are investigating. Mina Wallace was unknowingly
recruited just before graduation.
"My degree is in physics, and my
specialty is cybernerttics: I was hoping to get a berth on the starships when
they went," Mina said. "I really wanted that. I thought I had a damn
good chance to get it, too, because I was doing some good work for the Lockheed
Spaceframe Division, which built the starships. Damn!"
Reed took her in his arms, and patted her
back. "Don't feel too bad. If this guy Langley can outsmart the xerons then
he can outfox you and me, honey."
"I feel like such a bloody fool!"
she grumbled into his chest. "It's my fault all those other xerons are
dead. Or going to be dead."
Dead. One megaton missile broke through the
overloaded deflectors two and one half minutes ago.
"I'm sorry ..."
"Sorry ..."
"Did the other ships escape?" Reed asked.
Two did. Two did not. There were too many
attackers. One ship headed into the attackers to draw fire. The other was too
close to the missile when it destroyed the Nest.
"Oh, god ..." Mina said softly.
"Why did they just attack like that?"
Reed asked angrily. "Why didn't they talk to us first?"
Fear. They were afraid of our powers for we were
an unknown quantity to them. We were alien invaders that suck minds dry and
control humans with mental force.
'Well, they're right,' Reed thought, `xcxbut not
the way they think.'
Rest. I will awaken you.
Humans were bedding down on the deck everywhere
and Reed and Mina picked a way thro:ugh them towards a free space. They glanced
into the room where all the xerons had been placed.
Tan and black melons from the stars. 'I feel as
if I should be repelled, but I'm not,' thought Reed. 'They're ... different,
that's all. Well meaning friends or well meaning enemies—who knows? The scope
upon which they think and plan and act is too big for me to understand. Plans
twenty billion years long. Galaxy wide. Umpteen races. Faster-than-light ships.
Stars like diamond dust.'
Reed settled down against a smooth wall and
cuddled Mina to him, feeling her warmth and friendly presence.
"Mina ... dear Mina ... the other part of
me ..." 'The whole thing is incredible. Me, a mind-sucking secret agent
helping to decide the fate of Man.. I get into it because that smooth-talking
dude at Ares Center got into my head. I get a "trial run" and like
it. The Dreams are worth it all. Or so I thought. But now ... now I'm not so
sure. Mina is worth it. So I'm in. To the end. And maybe out the other side,
greedy guts. Reach for a Dream bigger and better and wilder than any
psychedelic and find something greater than you suspected possible.'
... the stars ...
... life in the great black void of space ...
... sleep ...
REED CARRAHER STOOD in the bubble of the ship's
control room and looked out at space and the growing blue-green ball of Earth.
'I never get tired of seeing it,' he thought,
'ever since that first look when I was a kid, looking out of the port of that
old Galileo class tub when my father took me to the moon. Blue with swirls and
feathers of white; green and tan laced over with clouds. The home world.
'Man's world. No matter how many planets, how
many moons or orbiting rocks he makes a home on, Terra will always be home. Even
if we go to the stars, it will always be home world, the poor gutted,
over-populated son of a bitch.'
We must land and get to Langley as swiftly as
possible. There will be no second
chance. The last ship sacrificed itself so that we might escape.
Carraher shivered. It was becoming altogether too serious. He'd
signed up with the xerons because it was a challenge, a lark, a real
adventure with the promise of a treasure at
the end. A life of riches and ease, for after all, what good was money to a
xeron, except as a tool in dealing with a human?
"Where do we land?" Where's Langley?
Sahara Base. We will dive straight down and
land atop the building where he is most likely to be. The ship will immobilize
everyone within several hundred yards. But we only have so long before they
counterattack and the ship's sensors will be overloaded.
Commandos, thought Carraher, just like ancient
commandos. Or suicide troops.
He watched the Earth grow and they were
angling straight down out of space towards the tanned top of the African
continent with its miles and miles of concrete pads and maintenance buildings and
passenger terminals and atmospheric transport facilities.
Carraher began to see ships rising up from the
pads and they passed one fairly closely, a sleek new Gorgon class streaming
fire. They overtook and passed a bulky ore transporter coming in on auto from
the moon mines.
The horizon changed from a ball to a curve to
nothing but the brown stretch of Sahara Base and still they shot down at
fantastic speed.
"I hope you guys know what you are
doing," muttered Reed.
We will brake at the appropriate time. It is
one of the advantages of antigravity units. You should go to the airlock now
and prepare to disembark.
Reed found Mina buckling on a laser and he
picked up a heavy duty Colt Magnum and strapped the laser on.
"I hope we don't have to use these,"
he said. Mina nodded, checking the charge indicator.
The humans crowded into the passage, filling
the airlock. They overrode the automatics and set up both hatches to open at
once so that all the humans could stream out onto the roof as quickly as
possible.
We are landing on the building assigned to the
counterforce.
Reed loosened the laser in its holster and
shot a glance at Mina. She looked up at him and a faint smile came and went
before she sobered and looked back at the gray metal lock door.
Plow.xxx
A slight tremor and then the outer hatch swung
wide. The humans jumped out and started for the several entrances down into the
building from the helipad. Reed noticed scattered figures frozen in attitudes
of flight or startlement.
The ship is holding them to free us for the
final battle.
Carraher felt himself directed towards the
furthest entrance and he ran across the rooftop with Mina close behind. Down
the stairs ... top floor ... more stairs ... next floor ... frozen humans
staring from their immobilized bodies ...
Here. Turn here. That corridor. That door.
Carraher and Mina were joined by several
humans converging on the same spot. Reed was just behind two others as they
rushed through an outer office, then an inner lab of some sort, then into
another office and stopped before a final door.
Six of them pushed through it and crowded into the room, lasers
ready, and Carraher noticed that
Torbert Minden was one of them. A man sat frozen at a desk, quietly sitting as
if listening.
A trick. A holograph.
Panels snapped open and big brute lasers were
aiming at them, manned by automatics, controlled from where—? Carraher spun and
there were more lasers, big monster ten millimeter GEs that could cut a ship in
two.
He was taking no chances, Reed thought. But
they weren't firing ...
"Hello, there," a voice said
conversationally and the trapped humans looked at the figure of the man in the
chair. He gestured with his hand. "You all look very human. Are you, or do
aliens control you?"
No one answered and the holographic projection
continued blandly."I am some distance from you, shielded and protected.
Everything there is controlled by my aides or myself from outside your sphere
of control. I can see now that I overestimated your area of immobilization, but
no matter.
"I am Steven Langley. Ah ... and you are .. . Torbert Minden and Artur Gregorio ... and the beautiful Mina ... and our famous blundering assassin,
Reed Carraher ... oh, yes, I know many of you."
A man turned towards the door despite the lasers
but froze even before Langley spoke. The man turned back slowly and assumed a
placid expression.
"Ah ..." Langley sighed softly,
"So you are controlled. Whoever or whatever rides your brains knows that
my autolasers have stopped everyone on the roof." He laughed softly.
"Quite an impasse, no? Here we are, meeting creatures from the stars for
the first time and I do not have some sand to draw a solar system in."
Mina spoke, her voice sudden and startling in
the silence. "We are not themonsters you think we are. Yes, what you see
are human beings, but we are with members of a race from a system of
planets near what we call the Horsehead Nebula. They are the xerons and
are a peaceful and philosophical race."
"That seeks to control the Earth or at
least bottle up man and keep him from the stars," sneered Langley.
"That's not true," Mina answered.
"The xerons want only to help us mature enough to be accepted by
the various races and cultures."
Langley looked at her a moment, then scanned
the others. "A very convincing speech, my dear, especially coming from the
mouth of a double traitor!"
"I am not a traitor! You made me a spy
and I didn't even know it! And I am not a traitor to the human race! I'm trying
to help it, just as I would help a child that's about to run off a cliff!"
"You are all renegades!" Langley's
eyes flared. "You have conspired to keep man from the stars!"
"The star drive was Dubrian. You merely
adapted it," Reed said.
Langley's gaze swung to him. "A murderer
speaks ..."
"You will be the greatest murderer of all earth's history
if you let man go out now," Mina said. "Man will be smashed
back to savagery and on the way
back up he will be monitored all the way. A much different sort of Man will
emerge."
Langley looked at them again, his dark eyes
moving from face to face.
He must be looking at a bank of screens, Reed
thought. Where is he hiding?
Five hundred ten meters to the South
Southwest. Concrete bunker underground.
Why didn't you know that before?
We did.
"What?" 'Why did you let us be trapped like this?'
To talk. Attacking the bunker would have been
suicide.
Langley spoke, slowly and with deadly
earnestness. "I want to go to the stars now. I don't want to wait
until Man is 'mature.' That may never happen and certainly not in my lifetime.
All my life I have been surrounded by fools and morons; I expect always to be wading through idiots. I'll not let
their stupidity keep me from the stars. I can go to the stars now; I will go
now!"
"And you will bring disaster upon
Mankind," Torbert Minden said. "I will bring glory!"
We must use the power of our minds in
conclave. Support me.
It was a whole new "voice" in his
head and Carraher recognized it as IOZ ... but a new IOZ. Stronger, bigger,
more ... powerful, as if she had been holding back, hiding ... as if it had
been masquerading.
Reed stared at Mina, who was looking with a
startled expression at the image of Langley.
Reach out—quickly!
Carraher felt the funneling effect as the
power of IOK's mind swept through him. The lights in the room dimmed and
brightened, dimmed and went out as energy of every sort flowed towards Langley.
There were swirling lights in his mind and
soundless winds ... all following IOZ ... the new IOZ ... there was a mindless
moaning.
She is Sixth Level.
There was amazement in IOK's thoughts, though
the thought/image/ words/emotions were still calm.
She was hiding even from us. The Plan has many
levels ...
The room of humans stood motionless in the
darkness as the storm raged through their minds. There seemed to be no walls,
no citadels, only void and space and blackness and the silent storm.
None of them had even been part of an
attacking Conclave before and briefly Reed wondered if they would all return
sane. Or alive.
IOZ.
"IOZ!"
IOZ!
The funneling into blackness, into void, into
Langley ... the focusing ... racing along wires ... crackling through
circuits ... searching ... a million mice racing for a black moon ...
blanking, blocking ... shielding ...
A tightbeam of mental force smashed into the
bunker, into the human called Langley ... a granite boulder washed by a raging
sea ...
The boulder moved and shuddered, then struck back, a weak and
unfocused blow, but they sensed the power behind the untrained weapon. The sea struck again and again,
crashing endlessly down on the granite surface ...
Cracks appeared and closed, appeared again ...
Opening ... closing ... lightning jagged cracks ripped open and slowly closed ... thoughts leaking out, spurting out like blood under pressure ... colors .... redness . .. fear . .. question ... space with stars
streaking and running like water ... comets flashing close
... fire ...
The boulder cracked and cracked and cracked
under the storm pressure ... then the bursting ... and the sea washed over
it ... a fierce tight whorl of force drew to it all the power, all the photons
and psychic energy ... blackness ... and in the blackness a
voice ...
YOU ARE IN OUR POWER.
Yes.
'Beaten but not owned ...'
Langley's thoughts came through to Carraher
like weak shouts in the wind, but they were defiant thoughts and Carraher
admired him.
'Go to hell ... kill me ... but Man will go
to the stars ...'
You are powerless.
'Yes ... for now ...'
Suddenly there was a lifting, at Langley's
admission of helplessness ... light returned ... the pressure was gone ...
Reed felt helpless, completely open and
defenseless. He could not move.
He sensed an outpouring of information into
Langley's mind, flowing through him, through them all, into one human mind ...
stars and maturity ... life and death ... savages in the outworlds ... vandals in the clean palaces of the starworlds ... corruption ... disease ... responsibility ... maturity ... decision ...
Then a pulling back, a releasing, and Langley
was free. Only a line of thought tied him to them all..
We are open to you. You know the situation. It
is your decision. You decide for mankind. What you decide mankind will follow.
We are helpless. We make no pressure upon you, overt or covert. Now ... you decide.
Langley's voice came to them. "But I want
the stars!" His voice was weak, both in power and determination. It was
almost a cry for help.
There was a long pause and Reed heard only the
winds of time, then IOZ spoke again.
It is possible that mankind might mature
faster than expected. This race has done everything else faster than
anticipated.
"Yes ..." Langley's voice bore the
weight of a heavy responsibility. "Yes ... I cannot bring the death of my
culture ... you are right. I will help. But I'm not going
to like it one bit! I want—god-dammit—to go to the stars!"
IOZ spoke kindly.
You are the first of the New humans. The first
human of star level. That is a greater thing than being a freebooter among the
outworlds.
"I didn't want to take. I wanted to
learn." Langley's voice was sad but hopeful. "Maybe we have something
to teach, too."
You do. Many things. We will all learn.
Langley stood in the
Dubrian ship next to a low couch. "Lie down," Carraher said. The
slender, dark-haired man lay on the couch and watched Reed and Mina lie down on
other of the "petals."
"What do we do
now?" Langley asked.
"Let it
happen," Mina said.
"Will I0Z be
going with us?" the scientist asked.
Yes. In all three of
your minds.
"To the
stars," breathed Langley softly.
"In a
way," Reed said. "You'll see things but you won't be there. But
you'll be there in a way you could never be. Then you can truly tell mankind
about it all."
"Let's
go," Langley said. The sphere began to whirl.
And they went to the
stars. Mankind was never to be the same again.
Click here to read Rotsler's Hugo and Nebula finalist saga Patron of the Arts in ebook right now for only $2.99 in Kindle from Amazon (free for Amazon Unlimited).
Click here to read Rotsler's Hugo and Nebula finalist saga Patron of the Arts in ebook right now for only $2.99 in Kindle from Amazon (free for Amazon Unlimited).
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