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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31651-8.txt b/31651-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7653940 --- /dev/null +++ b/31651-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2389 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Instant of Now, by Irving E. Cox, Jr. + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Instant of Now + +Author: Irving E. Cox, Jr. + +Release Date: March 15, 2010 [EBook #31651] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INSTANT OF NOW *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe Aug-Sept 1953. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + +[_One of the most intriguing of all science fiction patterns + is that of the galactic sweep--the story which takes for granted human + travel between stars at speeds far faster than the speed of light. In + its most successful form, such a story combines cosmic action with a + wholly human plot. In this case Mr. Cox--but read it yourself._] + + + the instant of now + + + _by ... Irving E. Cox, Jr._ + + + Revolution is not necessarily a noble thing. Unless shrewdly + directed, its best elements may fall victim to its basest + impulses. + + * * * * * + + + + +Eddie Dirrul had destroyed the message seconds after reading it. Yet, +as he left the pneumotube from the University, he felt as if it were +burning a hole in his pocket. It had come to him from Paul Sorgel, the +new top-agent from the Planet Vinin. It had been written in High +Vininese. + +For a moment the alien language had slowed Eddie's reaction to its +contents, as had the shocking nature of its words. It had read-- + + _Need your help. Glenna and Hurd in brush with Secret + Police--both hurt. Come at once._ + +Luckily old Dr. Kramer had asked no awkward questions when Eddie +excused himself from the balance of the lecture. If the kindly +bumbling professor had been inquisitive, Eddie had no idea how he +would have answered. Glenna was his fiancée, Hurd his best friend--and +their disaster meant disaster for the underground movement that had +become the guiding purpose of his entire life. + +The night was still young when he emerged from the pneumotube and the +slanting ramp-lines of windows in the massive unit-blocks of the +Workers' Suburb rose about him within the darkness of the structural +frames that encased them. + +Parks, recreation centers and gaudy amusement halls were aswirl with +the usual evening crowds. With a sort of angry heedlessness Eddie +forced his way among tall perpetually-youthful men in bright leisure +clothing--and consciously alluring women clad in filmy garments as +teasingly transparent as mist. + +_Glenna hurt--and Hurd!_ Seriously, of course, or Paul Sorgel would +never have risked a hand-message. With quiet desperation he pushed +through the crowds--in his trim grey Air-command uniform he was one +with them, a nonentity like themselves. + +He knew where to find the three he sought. Beyond the outdoor courts, +where his fellow-Agronians amused themselves with a variety of +racquet-games, lay a tiny park, wherein a state of wild disorder was +carefuly maintained in imitation of nature. + +Few were attracted by its rugged growth, save in very warm weather, +when hardy souls ventured within its borders to relax in artificial +breezes created by silent concealed fans. In its center stood a small +stone building that housed the maintenance machinery. It was deserted, +except for once each year when the city engineering crews came to +check the machines and to make minor repairs. There the Libero-Freedom +Movement held its meetings, in the shadow of the whirring wheels. + +Sorgel came out of the shadows as Dirrul pushed through the thicket of +brush that surrounded the stone building. In a hushed whisper he +asked, "That you, Eddie?" + +"Yes--where are they?" + +"Inside. I gave them a hypo--they're both under now. It makes it +easier." + +"How did it happen, Paul?" + +"I was to meet Glenna and Hurd at her apartment, to talk over the +details of the Plan. The police were there ahead of me but I broke up +the party before they could finish the job. Since they've got to do +this sort of thing unofficially, to be able to deny it later if any +questions are asked, I scared them off easily enough. I brought Glenna +and Hurd here in my Unicyl but I'll need your help to get them out." + +"This is the second time it's happened, Paul!" said Eddie. "And the +Plan--we'll have to organize all over again. As soon as our people +hear about this most of them will run like scared rabbits." + +"Not if they don't know, Eddie. That's where you come in. We've got to +get Glenna and Hurd away from Agron. If there's no evidence of a crime +there's no reason for an investigation." + +"But what can I do?" + +"Borrow one of the Air-command's surface jets for a while." + +Paul Sorgel's plan was simple and efficient. The Air-Command field was +fenced with electronic paralysis barriers and the entrance was heavily +guarded. But no watch was kept inside the encampment except for a +daily inspection of the machines when the guard was changed at dawn. +Since Dirrul was a Captain of the Space-maintenance Division, 73rd +Air-Command Wing, he was able to enter the area at any time without +question. Among the scheduled night training flights for new cadets, +the departure of one more surface jet would pass unobserved. + +"Come back here for Glenna and Hurd," Sorgel said, "and take them out +to the South Desert. If there's no hitch you should be back before +dawn, with time to spare. If not...." Sorgel shrugged. "Eddie, we +can't build a better universe without taking occasional risks." + +Slowly Dirrul's body tensed with fear. In a cold dead voice he asked, +"Am I to leave them there, without help or medicine, to die of thirst +and hunger?" + +"Many sacrifices are necessary for the good of the Movement." + +"But Glenna and Hurd are our leaders!" + +"The freedom of the universe means a little more, I think, than the +temporary safety of two individuals." Sorgel lit a cigarette. In the +faint pink reflection of the Glo-Wave lighter his face was emptily +placid, a faint smile twisting the corners of his lips. "Suppose I say +it's a command, Dirrul--a Vininese command, calling for Vininese +discipline." + +After a moment Dirrul replied in a choked whisper, "I'll take them, +sir." + +Sorgel smiled and the crisp tone of authority edged out of his voice. +"As a matter of fact, Eddie, I was curious to see what you would do. +The Vininese Confederacy practises neither cruelty nor deception. +You'll find one of our Space-dragons hidden in a gorge of the Katskain +Range. It's the ship I came in a week ago. + +"The pilot was instructed to wait fifteen planetary revolutions in the +event that I might have a report to send back to Headquarters. You +must learn to trust me, Eddie. From the first, you see, I intended to +send Glenna and Hurd to Vinin. If they get there in time there's a +chance our Medical Corps can pull them through. They may even be back +here with us for the day when we carry out the Plan." + +Dirrul was in no real danger. Much as it benefited the Movement the +laxity of Agronian security was one of the chief reasons why Dirrul +scorned the Planetary Union. The space-wide patrols of the +Air-Command, the city guards and the electronic paralysis barricades +created a feeling of internal control--but it was all a glittering +sham. If it were not for the Nuclear Beams the whole system would long +since have crumbled under the first pressure from outside. + +With no difficulty he picked up Glenna and Hurd and took them to the +South Desert, where he put them aboard the sleek Vininese space-ship. +It was one of the new Dragon design--compact, efficient, faster than +anything built by the Planetary Union, protected by sixteen circular +batteries and yet small enough to be handled by one man. + +Dirrul had seen only one other Vininese Space-dragon and that from a +distance at the Agronian commercial airport, when the last Vininese +ambassador arrived. Technically there was no reason why Paul Sorgel +could not have landed there as well, except that the Customs +questionnaire might have proved embarrassing. + +Twenty years earlier, when Dirrul was still a schoolboy, the Galactic +War had ended. Since that time relations between the Planetary Union +and the Vininese Confederacy had steadily improved--at least in +appearance. Undoubtedly there were commercial interests on both sides +anxious to maintain peace and in recent years the quantity of goods in +trade had grown enormously. But it was a truce, not a peace--a +compromise, rather than a victory--forced on the galaxy when the +scientists of the Planetary Union discovered the Nuclear Beams. + +Pain shot through Dirrul's mind as he carried Glenna into the +pressurized chamber under the control room. She and Hurd were still +unconscious but Glenna turned in his arms and her eyes fluttered open. +She looked at him and screamed in terrible agony before the pilot of +the Space-dragon plunged a hypodermic sedative into her arm. + +"It is better," he said to Dirrul in throaty Vininese. "So beautiful a +one should not feel the pain." Carefully he fastened the needlepoint +of a wall tube into Glenna's vein and another into Hurd's. + +"Synthetic blood feeding," he said with a smile. "It will keep them +alive, perhaps even permitting minor wounds to heal, until I deliver +them to the authorities on Vinin. You see, sir, my little ship is +well-equipped." He slammed the round door of the hospital room shut +and led Dirrul to the control blister. + +"How long will it be, this trip to Vinin?" Dirrul asked, speaking very +slowly in classical Vininese. Like everyone in the Movement he had +studied the language of Vinin as a sort of courtesy and duty but he +had no illusion about his small ability to handle it. + +"In terms of your time," the pilot said, "about thirty days." + +"Only thirty? The Planetary Union hasn't a ship that could make it +under sixty!" + +"But this is a Space-dragon." The words were self-explanatory. + +Proudly the pilot showed Dirrul the controls, as functional and as +uncomplex as the cool clean lines of the ship herself. The design was +so logical, so basically simple, that within a few minutes Dirrul +understood enough of the mechanism to have driven the ship himself. + +"Your scientists could do as well," the pilot suggested, "if they +wished." + +"Not mine," Dirrul said. + +"Pardon--the scientists of the Planetary Union. On Vinin we create for +the future, for the progress of the Confederacy. We have no patience +with petty argument, tedious experimentation or the pointless +splitting of hairs that seems to occupy so much of your time here. For +us a scientist is a producer, like everyone else. If he fails to do +his job we replace him." + +Pleased with the comparison the pilot chuckled over his dials as he +turned on the power. Above the roar he said to Dirrul, "We must talk +again one day, sir. If you ever have the good fortune to come to Vinin +be sure to look me up." + + +II + +As the Vininese ship shot smoothly out into the night sky, Dirrul's +surface jet slashed back toward the Agronian capital. A synthetic +tension, which he deliberately fed with nightmare improbabilities, +kept him reasonably alert until he had safely returned the jet to its +place in the compound. Then weariness engulfed him. Groggily he +staggered to the pneumotube and within five minutes he was asleep in +the small two-room worker's apartment where he lived. + +The insistent _ping_ of the door visiscope woke him. Dirrul glanced at +his wall clock and saw that it was still early morning. He had slept +less than three hours. Swearing angrily he turned down the visiarm. +Dr. Kramer's serene aging white-bearded face was mirrored on the +grey-tinted screen. + +"Good morning, Edward," Kramer said with excessive cheerfulness. "For +a moment I was afraid I had missed you. I've brought a transcription +of the lecture you missed yesterday." + +Dirrul swung out of bed and pushed the entry release. Soundlessly the +thin metal door slid into the wall and the little professor bounced +into the room. The door shot back into place. + +"But you're not dressed!" the professor exclaimed without the +slightest regret. "I always supposed you Air-Command men had to report +for work at eight." + +"Yesterday I was out on emergency call," Dirrul said dully. "For +twelve hours, so I've the morning off. I had planned to pound the +pillow until--" + +"Good! We can talk, then. I don't have a class until ten and I always +like to make the personal acquaintance of my students." Dr. Kramer +made himself comfortable in Dirrul's Cloud-foam lounge, clasping his +small, white hands over the little bulge of his belly. "Nice apartment +you have here, Edward--excellent taste in furnishing." + +"You don't mind if I shave and dress and have a bite of breakfast, Dr. +Kramer?" Dirrul's sarcasm was quite lost on the professor. + +"Do, by all means," Kramer said. "And you might order a pot of coffee +for me." + +Dirrul touched a button and the bed rolled up into the wall--another +and the gleaming metal shower-room slid open. He stripped and bathed, +setting the aquadial so that his body was pounded by a sharp rain of +icy water. When he snapped it off the massage arms shot out, rubbing +him dry with soft, plastic puffs. He sprayed the newly patented +No-Beard Mist on his face and, after waiting the required three +seconds, wiped it off with a disposable fiber towel. The skin was +pink and clean, refreshingly invigorated. When he took a fresh uniform +out of the wall-press and put it on he felt very much himself again, +scarcely annoyed by his lack of sleep. + +He pushed the button and the bathroom rolled out of sight. The whole +process had taken less than five minutes. + +At his panel-control Dirrul dialed a sizable breakfast for himself and +coffee for the professor. Before he could draw up chairs the +grey-topped table had rolled from its wall slot, the steaming food +containers fixed to it. + +"The marvels of invention!" Dr. Kramer said. "When I was young we had +nothing like this. Many times, Edward, I had to prepare my own +meals--and mighty skimpy ones they were too, some of them. A young +teacher in those days wasn't paid very much." + +"You survived, Dr. Kramer," Dirrul reminded him dryly. "A little work +now and then wouldn't hurt us, either." + +"That's the old argument, Edward. How we frothed and stewed over it +when this new system was in its infancy! That was before your time, of +course." Kramer poured a cup of coffee and after a thoughtful +hesitation quietly took a slice of toast from Dirrul's platter. "They +said we'd create a race of helpless children--defenseless lazy +softies. They said if the individual wasn't forced to fight for his +own survival, for the small comforts of life, he would die of boredom, +drown initiative in luxury." + +Dr. Kramer smiled--and took another slice of toast. "Like so many of +the terrifying predictions of the Cassandras none of it came to pass. +Today we're stronger and more vigorous than ever. Today we have more +new inventions, more new discoveries, more fine philosophical insight +than ever before in our entire history. + +"Actually what we did was save time on the trivial routines so we +could spend our work-potential where it mattered. After all, what was +gained by a social system that forced me to spend so much of my energy +feeding and housing and clothing myself? Weigh the loss against the +greater contribution I might have made if I had spent the same time in +research." + +"Why, yes, Dr. Kramer--you could have given us the Cloud-foam lounge a +generation earlier," Dirrul said bitterly, "or perhaps the Safe-sweet +candy." + +Again his sarcasm lost its savor, for the professor simply beamed and +said, "Possibly, if that had been my field of interest. As it happens +I'm a psychologist specializing in emotive linguistics--the +symbologies for conveying meanings." The professor smiled. + +"Our present vigor and strength, no doubt, is reflected in the sort of +thing we do with all this extra time our gadgets give us--the +scholarly research in the Arena or the Phonoview." + +"You're being very uncritical, Edward. Under any social form a great +majority of the people would spend everything on personal pleasures. +Why not? Each generation produces only a few leaders--we simply +recognize that fact and adjust to it." + +"But without the incentive of personal gain, Dr. Kramer...." + +The professor laughed uproariously. "Incentive! You amaze me, Edward. +I haven't heard the word used in just that context since I was a boy. +You're a throwback--an anachronism. You sound like one of the elderly +prophets of doom. I thought the breed had died out generations ago." +The professor laughed again. "So our system creates no incentives. +Tell me, Edward, why are you spending your Work-Equivs to take my +night course?" + +"Because, when I've passed enough university hours I can take the +promotional test and become a full-fledged space-pilot." + +"And still you say there's no incentive?" + +"For myself, yes--but all of us ought to have the same kind of drive," +said Dirrul. + +"Such a condition never existed, Edward. Always there have been a few +to make the inventions and the discoveries, a few to create the new +dreams and frame the new ideas. Our people are no different. Incentive +comes from within the individual--it cannot be imposed from the +outside. + +"The poorest sort of incentive, therefore, is economic need. Our +system provides all our people with the basic necessities for everyday +living. Some few of us are content with these and never want anything +else. But the great majority work to earn Work-Equivs, which they can +spend as they please--on amusement, luxury, education or the races at +the Arena. + +"Whatever the goal, it is a personal goal, set by each individual for +himself. It's the only kind of incentive that makes any sense. Take +yourself as an example--you spend your share of Work-Equivs on +additional education because you want to become a space-pilot. By the +time you've earned the promotion you'll have lifted yourself to a +position of leadership. + +"As you are well aware the space-pilot is the politician--statesman is +a better word--of the Planetary Union. Through his ingenuity, his +skill with languages, his psychological understanding of diverse +racial groups, he holds our planets and peoples together, in one union +with a common social philosophy. Think how frustrating it would be if +you could never move toward your goal, Edward, because everything you +earned had to be spent on trivialities--food, clothing, a place to +live." + +"All right," said Eddie doubtfully, "I have an apartment given to me +but it has to be here in a worker's block. If our system provides for +us all alike, as you imply, how is it you have accommodations in the +Scientist's Center? Why should you be set apart? Or the poets and +writers? Or the space-pilots, for that matter?" + +"But there's no difference in the way we live, Edward. In general +people who do similar work and have similar interests are happier if +they share the same social environment. The average person, living in +a worker's block, would feel terribly out of place in a scientist's +center, just as I would develop terrific frustrations if I had to live +with the mystics or the religious orders." + +Dirrul deftly snatched the last piece of toast as the professor +reached for it. "I'll dial some for you if you like," he offered. + +"Oh, no, Edward! I'm dieting, you see, and I like to think--well, as +I've told you so often in class, we all practise self-deception of a +sort. Usually it's harmless--and almost always we symbolize it in +words. For me the symbol is diet. + +"I set up a specialized definition and convince myself that I am +dieting if I never directly order fattening food. That gives me an +escape hatch. If food is offered to me or if it happens to--ah--to +fall into my hands, I can take it and still keep a clear conscience." + +"Perhaps you practise more self-deception than you know, Dr. Kramer," +said Eddie. "For instance, all your fine words about the strength and +vitality of our new system--when I was a boy we licked the Vininese +Confederacy. We couldn't do it today." + +"That's a matter of opinion. We're at peace now and we'll remain so." + +"Only because we have the Nuclear Beams. And look how we've botched +that mess! Our scientists gave the process to the Vininese in order to +patch together a peace when we could have destroyed their civilization +completely." + +"And our own too--with the weight of such a crime on our group +conscience. There's one thing you still must learn, Edward--scientific +progress is made by the sharing of ideas, not the concealment of them. +We build the future upon the truths of the past and the present. If +some of those truths are hidden away we create falsely on utterly +false foundations." + +Dr. Kramer pulled a manila envelope from his pocket and laid it on the +table, pushing back his chair. "I must go, Edward; these are the notes +on my lecture. As I told you before, I really came here for something +else. I wanted to talk to you, to get to understand you better. I +think I've learned a great deal." + +The little professor was no longer smiling and the gentle touch of +banter was gone from his voice. Dirrul felt a creeping fear rise +within him. How much had he unconsciously revealed? How many of his +own beliefs had Dr. Kramer been able to read between the lines? + +Knowing them, would he guess Dirrul's connection with the Movement? +The professor's bland naiveté could be the mask of a police informer. +Dirrul shivered, remembering the sudden punishment that had overtaken +Glenna and Hurd. + +At the door Dr. Kramer paused and said, "I'm entertaining two or three +of the university faculty this evening, Edward. They've read some of +the papers you have written for my class. I'd like to have you meet +them. My apartment--eight-thirty." + +It was a command rather than an invitation. Dirrul accepted. + + +III + +As soon as the professor had gone his fear vanished. What he had said +to Dr. Kramer gave away no secrets and, in any case, he was crediting +the professor with a perception he did not have. Ever since first +joining the Movement, when he was still in school, Dirrul had taken +such pains to conceal his motives that it would have required a good +deal more than Dr. Kramer's clumsy prying to reveal them. + +He had deliberately patterned his attitudes and habits upon a +composite average, even to a mild and starry-eyed criticism of the +system which was more or less expected from the ambitious young men of +the Air-command. + +Dr. Kramer's ecstatic praise of the system was the typical emotional +reaction of the older generation. The professor may actually have been +convinced of the truth of his own fuzzy propaganda. It was that sort +of blind faith which still held the Planetary Union together. + +Before returning to the Air-Command base at noon, Dirrul sought out +Paul Sorgel and reported that Glenna and Hurd were safely on their way +to Vinin. Apologetically, he mentioned Dr. Kramer's invitation, +expecting to elicit Sorgel's scorn. Instead the Vininese agent was +enthusiastic. + +"Wonderful, Eddie!" he said. "Engineer it so they'll ask you back. +We've never got one of our people in with the older science crowd +before. Feel them out--we might pick up some converts. I won't need +you at the next few meetings of the Movement--they'll be largely +reorganizational, you know. I've been reading over Glenna's notes on +the Plan. With one or two modifications we should be able to carry it +out." + +At eight-thirty that evening Dirrul was admitted to Dr. Kramer's +apartment. He was neither overwhelmed by the professor's excessive +courtesy nor impressed by the other guests. They were from the faculty +of the Advanced Air University, elderly, respected and distinguished, +names known for a generation everywhere in the Planetary Union. + +To them, Edward Dirrul was merely a curiosity, a live specimen mounted +for analysis. He had criticised their system. They intended to wring +out the strands of his motivation, classify them, speculate and +theorize upon them--and perhaps, ultimately, do the whole thing up as +a monograph. + +Dirrul knew why Kramer had selected him for study rather than any of +the current crop of university students who held similar views. A +product of the educational philosophy of the Planetary Union, Dirrul +was thoroughly adjusted and decidedly aware of both his own abilities +and shortcomings. + +He was, first of all, gifted in the use of abstractions and +generalities. In rare combination with this flair he had superior +mechanical intelligence and a talent for expressive verbalization. He +dealt easily in the subtle skills of logic. If he set his mind to it, +he could erect absolute proofs of diametrically opposed truths and few +minds could detect the delicately concealed flaws in the reasoning. + +On the negative side of the scale was Dirrul's complete lack of +psycho-biological intelligence, or a sense of scientific semantics. +Neither to him seemed important. He missed them not at all and +resented the legal requirements that forced him to take Dr. Kramer's +course before he could qualify as a space-pilot. + +The papers he had written for the professor were beautifully +constructed patterns of logic, cast in well-turned phrases. They had +clarified the criticism which others put inarticulately. It was the +precision of his argument that disturbed Dr. Kramer and his faculty +friends. + +Dirrul was amused as the distinguished scientists skillfully +manipulated the conversation to create counter-arguments opposing his. +It was a game played in abstractions, a technique of which Dirrul was +an instinctive master. Apparently the scientists found some sort of +excitement in the game, since on succeeding evenings Dirrul was +swamped with invitations from other faculty members--so many, in fact, +that he had to neglect the serious work of the Movement. When he +complained to Paul Sorgel, the Vininese agent was delighted. + +"We can get along without you for awhile, Eddie," Sorgel said. "You're +doing something much more important. You have a real in with the +science crowd, and you've got them on the run because your arguments +make sense. Every doubt you sow in their minds now will make our work +just that much easier when the proper time comes." + +Occasionally Dirrul had an uneasy feeling that he was making no real +progress at all, that when he talked to the scientists he was a +dancing puppet dangling on invisible strings. It seemed impossible +that the scientists of the Ad-Air University could be so repeatedly +defeated by his logic. Slowly, however, he reasoned his way to an +explanation. + +The scientists, like the system itself, were in the last wild frenzy +of a decaying social order. They had lived so long in the atmosphere +of relative truths, they had so carefully schooled themselves to avoid +all absolutes, that they were unable to elude the simplest processes +of logic. Their very efforts to be objective made them too honest to +reject a conclusion once Dirrul had demonstrated the careful structure +that seemed to support it. + + * * * * * + +A month passed. Dirrul felt divorced from the Movement, existing in +suspended animation in a cloud of wordy unreality. Then abruptly the +slow-moving dream ended. Late one night Paul Sorgel slipped into +Dirrul's apartment and announced in an emotionless whisper, "The +Plan's ready. You'll have to carry the details to Vinin. We can't use +the teleray--the Union monitors might pick up the message and decode +it." + +"Naturally our Vininese Headquarters will want to know, Paul," said +Eddie, "but can't that wait? We'll need every man here when we--" + +Sorgel interrupted him. "I've made one or two changes in Glenna's +original plan. It was too impractical. A handful of men can't take +over half a galaxy." + +"Glenna and Hurd weren't after the entire Planetary Union, +Paul--that's out of the question. We meant to liberate Agron first. +The capital is here and for awhile the government would be disrupted. +When the people on the other planets saw how much better our social +organization had become, modeled on the Vininese system, they would +stage their own revolutions just like ourselves." + +Sorgel laughed scornfully. "And in the meantime, of course, none of +them would think of attacking you and throwing your people out?" + +"Not if we seized the Nuclear Beam Transmitters," said Dirrul, "no +space-fleet could come near us then." + +"Eddie, you've lived in Agron too long. You're not thinking straight +when you try to build the Plan around a single weapon." + +"Why not, Paul? It's a perfect defense. In less than thirty seconds +the Beam Transmitters can charge the entire stratospheric envelope of +Agron. Nothing can move through it without disintegrating, yet life on +the surface of the planet would go on quite normally because the +atmosphere serves as an insulation." + +"Technically it's a change in the form of energy, not a +disintegration," Sorgel reminded him. "The beamed electrons unite with +the atoms of visible material substances and alter them. I quite +understand the process, Eddie--Vinin has the Beam too, you know." + +"Because the Agronian scientists gave you the specifications!" + +"That always has rankled, hasn't it?" said Sorgel. + +"Yes," Dirrul admitted. "If the Vininese scientists had discovered the +Beam-reaction first they would have conquered the galaxy." + +"Conquer is a nasty word, Eddie," Sorgel said softly. "Vinin makes no +conquests. Let's put it differently and say we would have used the +Beam to bring peace to the galaxy instead of splitting it in two as it +is now." + +"Glenna's Plan can change all that, at least here on Agron." + +"Face the facts, Eddie! A few conscientious people with ideals can't +take over a planet. The Movement has its crews trained to capture the +Beam Transmitters. You'll isolate Agron and seize the government +offices simultaneously. What happens then?" + +"Our people will rise and join us," said Eddie. "We'll create a new +government modeled on Vinin's and we'll have young leaders instead of +murky thinkers like Dr. Kramer." + +"That's effective propaganda for speechmaking, but--" + +"Glenna pounded away at it too, Paul," said Eddie. "It was the most +telling line in winning our new crop of recruits." + +"Which is precisely why the police disposed of her. But it won't work. +The people won't rise. A mob is lethargic, too willing to keep things +as they are. Here on Agron you've been coddled too long with luxuries +and easy living. You have to prod the mob awake with a shock-force, a +force coming from the outside." + +"How, Paul? We haven't enough people in the Movement to put on any +real show of strength. We can't even get outside." + +"Now you understand the changes I've made in Glenna's Plan. You people +in the Movement will seize the Beam Transmitters as originally +planned. Then you'll simply hold them and keep them decommissioned +long enough for a Vininese space-fleet to land. We'll set up your new +government for you." + +"And the rest of the Planetary Union will go to war!" + +"It hardly matters," said Paul. "Once we're here the Beams will +protect us against counterattack and every planet in the Vininese +Confederacy has the same defense. One by one we can liberate the +planets of the Union in the same way. But the timing is vital, of +course--that's why you have to go to Vinin." + +"I had a vacation leave only three months ago. I can't get tourist +passage now without--" + +"I've considered that. You'll have to have your own space-ship." + +"Now wait a minute, Paul! It's one thing to borrow a surface jet but a +space-cruiser...!" + +"A cruiser, yes--not an old cargo ship. And you can handle that +without a crew." + +"It can't be done, Paul." Dirrul held his Glo-Wave nervously to the +end of a cigarette. "Besides, I want to think this through carefully +before I make up my mind." + +"A merchant ship made a crash landing at Barney's emergency field +yesterday," said Paul. "The damage was slight, but the pilot--unfortunately +the pilot is dead." Sorgel smiled enigmatically. "Barney's one of our best +men. He's been on the lookout for a chance like this for weeks. + +"You'll leave tonight. Avoid the regular space lanes. I'm guessing +you'll be on Vinin in a hundred days at the outside. On the fiftieth +day after that--exactly one hundred and fifty days from now--our +Vininese space-fleet must make a landing on Agron." + +"I'll be missed, Paul--they'll make inquiries." + +"And get no satisfactory answers." + +Pacing the floor, Dirrul asked tensely, "Does everyone in the Movement +know about this?" + +"The vote was made unanimously yesterday." + +"One of the others must have a vacation leave coming up. Send him. +We're not at war with Vinin. He could take one of the regular space +excursions." + +"I can't send a message in writing. It would be picked up by the +customs police. And you're the only one who can carry it verbally, +Eddie. You know the whole background because you worked with Glenna +and Hurd. You've been in the Movement longer than any of the others." + +"Why not go yourself, Paul?" + +"I can do more for the liberation if I stay here." + +"I wish I'd been at the meeting yesterday when the vote was taken. I'd +have liked to discuss it with the others before--" + +"Why so many questions, Eddie? Why so many doubts all of a sudden?" +Sorgel stood and faced Dirrul, holding his shoulders in a grip that +hurt. "Are you trying to back out? Maybe it wasn't a good thing to let +you play around with the science boys after all. Be honest with me, +Eddie. If you're not sure where you stand, say so. There's no room in +the Movement for traitors." + +When Dirrul said nothing Sorgel added in a voice that rang with +fervor, "You're the only man in the Movement who has had any training +as a space-pilot. It depends on you now--everything you've ever +dreamed of, everything Glenna and Hurd wanted. Can you forget what the +Agronian police did to Glenna? Is your courage any less than hers?" +Again Sorgel paused but still Dirrul said nothing. "The future of your +world depends on you, Eddie--don't let it down." + +"I'll go," Dirrul whispered. + +As Eddie made up his mind his internal tension relaxed and he was +filled with a sense of well-being. When he thought about it he +couldn't understand why he had hesitated--unless perhaps what Sorgel +suggested was true--that his contact with the Ad-Air faculty had +blunted and nearly perverted his established sense of values. + +An hour later Dirrul boarded the battered antiquated space cargo +carrier on the launching rack at Barney's emergency field. At the last +minute Sorgel pressed a curious disk into his hand. Made of a very +light metal and suspended from a short chain it was two inches in +diameter and covered with a complex grid design. + +"Put it around your neck before you land, Eddie. Don't remove under +any circumstances until you report. Give it to the Chief then. He'll +know I sent you because it's my own identification activator." Sorgel +clasped Dirrul's hand warmly. "When you land on Vinin take the North +Field below the capital. It's the HQ operational center. Use Wave-code +three-seven-three and they'll know you're friendly." + + +IV + +After the launching space-flight was normally a monotonous routine. +The course was charted by automatic navigators and the vast pattern of +interlocking machinery and safety devices was electronically +controlled by robot relays from the pilot master-panel. The chief +function of a trained space-pilot, aside from his services as a +diplomat, was to handle emergency situations for which automatic +responses could not be built into the machinery. + +Dirrul, however, could not depend a great deal upon the robot devices. +He had to avoid the well-traveled and well-charted commercial +space-lanes. He had to be constantly on the alert for the telltale +white of a police cruiser. A cargo carrier was the slowest ship in the +universe--Dirrul could outrun nothing, not even a playboy's sport +jalopy, and inspection by the customs police would have been +disastrous. + +He followed a roundabout route, keeping as far from inhabited planets +as he could, and he made good time. In ninety-five days he had reached +the mythical border in space, which divided the territory of the +Planetary Union and the Vininese Confederacy. + +He was almost at midpoint in the galaxy. On the glazed screen of his +space-map the mirrored pinpricks of sun systems glittered like +microscopic gems scattered over the curve of a gigantic black saucer. +Dirrul had never been so far from Agron. He felt a stifling sense of +insignificance. + +The meaning of time as he understood it was somehow overwhelmed by the +immensity of space. Now and yesterday, today and tomorrow, became a +single unity. Dirrul had a new sense of the past in terms of the +present. His mind groped for word symbols that he understood which +could crystalize the shadowy new concept filling his mind. + +New understanding seemed to arise from the space-map. Somewhere among +the glowing points of light was the Place of the Beginning, a single +planet called Earth. In the far-distant past Earthmen had made +themselves rational beings. But for centuries thereafter they had made +no further progress, apparently appalled by the audacity of such +presumptive evolution. They had fought through a long primitive period +of violence, erecting system on system and philosophy upon philosophy +to conceal, destroy and wipe out their own biological machinery. + +Then out of a final orgy of death and terror the Earthmen had grasped +the meaning and the responsibility of the Rational Potential. They had +understood the reality of being. + +Within a century after that they had conquered space. They had found +peoples like themselves occasionally--but more often races that had +followed different biological adaptations to different environments. +Wherever there seemed to be a spark of primitive rationality the +Earthmen had stayed and patiently taught the Rational Potential of +being, which they had learned for themselves only after such +bloodshed. + +The galaxy was theirs, in a sense, for it thought in the patterns of +Earthmen, although long ago their direct influence had waned. They +were a legend and an ideal, lost in the vastness of space, yet bound +fast into the cultures of all peoples. + +Yet somewhere the Earthmen must have failed, somewhere there must have +been a flaw in their teaching. Fifty years earlier, as the Agronians +measured time, the galaxy had been torn apart by war. The Agronians +had led one group of planets, the Vininese another. Planet after +planet was seared by deadly new weapons--world after world died in the +orange flame of gaudy atomic disintegration. Slowly the power of Vinin +crept across the sky until the Vininese ruled half the galaxy. + +Their first defeat had come unexpectedly. Their great space-armada +swung in on Agron, while the people crowded in terror in their flimsy +raid shelters. But the Vininese ships had vanished high in the air. +Not even debris had fallen on the planet. + +It was the first use of the Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had been a schoolboy +when the Agronian scientists announced their discovery. He remembered +the exciting thrill of pride, recalled how he and his schoolmates had +dreamed of destroying the Vininese with the new weapon. + +He remembered too the galling bitterness he had felt when the +scientists announced that they had made peace instead. + +They had had sound reasons, of course. They said the Beams had a +limited value. They could be used only defensively to girdle a single +planet in the stratospheric level of its atmosphere. Elsewhere they +were harmless. To compound the spectacular timidity, the scientists +had given away the secret to all comers, including the Vininese. They +had an argument for that particular idiocy too--if each planet could +protect itself so easily from all external attack its people could +freely decide for themselves their galactic allegiance or maintain +isolated independence. + +The Planetary Union had been formed and members of the Vininese +Confederacy invited to join it. Not a people anywhere in the +Confederacy made even tentative exploration of the offer while five +sun systems of the Union later joined the Vininese. That was the fact +that had ultimately prodded Dirrul into joining the Movement. + +Later, when he read the pamphlets brought from Vinin, he had clarified +his purposes. On the one hand lay the waste, the confusion, the +uncertainty of Agron. Scientists who talked forever of hypotheses and +were afraid to stand firm for any absolute truths--moralists who +qualified even the simplest standards of right and wrong--philosophers +who glorified a condition of eternal chaos which they called an open +mind. + +On the other hand lay the clean efficiency of Vinin. Scientific +certainty, and the progress that stemmed from it--the Space-dragon +instead of the Safe-sweet candy, a clear social organization in which +the individual was directed by established and inflexible principles. + +The whole of it was history as Dirrul had learned it, the chronology +of the past. As he looked on the star map of the galaxy, at midpoint +between the two great unions of planets, the meaning of the past began +to change. The chronology fell into a new perspective. + +Against the vast expanse of space time twisted into a new +relationship. Time and space began to equate with an exciting +synonymity. History was not the past, dead and numbered--history was +now. All things, all space, all time, were forever fixed at the +instant of now. + +In Dirrul's mind a tumult of facts trembled on the verge of a +startling new order--the atomic structure of all energy and the black +saucer of the galaxy. The violent spasms the Earthmen had suffered +before they found the Rational Potential and the devastation of the +Galactic War. + +But before he could assess such new values and verbalize the new +generalization the antiquated warning system of his ship twanged +tinnily. On the control panel screen he saw the trim outline of a +white Agronian police ship. A moment later the voice came over the +speaker, ordering him to state his permit registry and his +destination. + +Dragged so suddenly back to reality, Dirrul reacted in panic. It was a +routine inquiry. He might have bluffed his way clear. Instead he put +the cargo ship at top speed toward Vinin and watched helplessly while +the patrol cruiser closed relentlessly in. + +"Stand for search!" the voice commanded. + +When he did nothing the police shot a warning rocket over his bow. A +second shot struck the rear of the cargo ship and tore away a section +of landing gear. Swearing, Dirrul tried to maneuver out of range, and +to a certain extent he was successful. But piloting skill could not +make up for the cumbersome bulk of his unarmed ship. Two more blasts +hit him, collapsing the forward compartment and knocking out one power +tube. + +At the point of triumph, however, the police patrol turned away and +left Dirrul limping alone in space. For a moment he was puzzled. In +another ten minutes they could have boarded the cargo carrier and made +him prisoner. But he understood when he glanced again at the star +map--the Agronian police had pursued him far into Vininese territory. +If Vininese patrols had found them there it might have created an +unpleasant intergalactic incident. + +Dirrul made a quick survey of the damage. He had only one power tube +intact--beyond that, the cargo carrier was wrecked and he had on board +nothing with which to make repairs. He could move ahead only at +quarter-speed. + +Sorgel had put a time limit of one hundred days on the trip to Vinin. +Headquarters had to know by then of the Plan on Agron. Dirrul had five +days left and as the hours ran out he was still grinding slowly toward +the outer atmosphere of Vinin. Quite aware that proper security +demanded the message be delivered in person, Dirrul nonetheless faced +the alternative of losing everything if he waited. + +Logically weighing all factors, he concluded he would not be risking +too much, considering the stakes, if he used the teleray. Agron +monitors could pick it up, of course, and no doubt the outpost +stations were instructed to record all messages emanating from within +the territory of Vinin. But Dirrul knew the Air-Command. + +They wallowed in the same luxury and comfort enjoyed by the rest of +the Planetary Union. Outposts personnel, so far from the capital, +would be even less likely to take their duties seriously than Dirrul's +own unit. + +He tried to make the information enigmatic to the curious and at least +suggestive to the Vininese. He used the landing Wave-code 373. The +small red light on the control panel glowed and he knew he had +established contact. In carefully chosen Vininese he spoke into the +teleray mouthpiece. + +"Sorgel requires help for Glenna-Hurd Plan. Exactly fifty days, their +time." + +He repeated the message. As an afterthought he gave his own position +and asked for emergency repair assistance. The whole meaning hinged +upon the names of Glenna and Hurd. However, since they had been taken +to Vinin, they should already have outlined the Plan to the Vininese +command. If there were any doubts Headquarters could teleray for +clarification. When his speaker remained silent Dirrul assumed he had +been understood. + +He began to feel the pull of Vininese gravity, found himself in +trouble with his ship. He tried to keep the disabled cargo carrier +relatively stationary, so that the Vininese repair ships could locate +him. With only one power tube, however, maneuver was impossible. The +battered ship plunged out of control toward the planet. + +For an hour Dirrul fought with all the skill he knew. A thousand feet +above the surface he managed to force the ship to level off +temporarily. He had no time to seek a proper landing area and in any +case his gear had been shot away. + +There was a wide flat plain directly below him, in the distance the +towering mass of a large city silhouetted against a range of +mountains. Dirrul headed his ship for the open fields, setting the +safety devices for a crash landing. + +He hung around his neck the identification disk Sorgel had given him, +tucking it beneath his tunic. If he were hurt in the landing, a +Vininese might find him, and the disk would indicate that he was +important enough to be taken to the Headquarters Command. If his +teleray hadn't been understood there might still be a chance for him +to make his report in person. + +The ship crashed against the hard ground. Dirrul felt a wrenching pain +as the automatic safety arms pinioned him fast to cushion the fall, +before hurling him free of the blazing control room. After that he +lost consciousness. + + +V + +When Dirrul opened his eyes it was after dark but the triple moons of +Vinin were full and the landscape glowed with a yellowish light. He +had fallen into a ditch which ran beside a narrow, green-paved road. +In the distance, hidden in a dense copse of blue tree-like +vegetation, he saw the fragments of his wrecked ship. The purple grass +of Vinin spread richly all around him, damp and warm. At the bottom of +the ditch a reddish trickle of liquid washed over his feet. + +His throat ached with thirst. His tongue clung like sand to the roof +of his mouth. He knew that an Agronian could live in the Vininese +atmosphere but he was uncertain whether his body could assimilate the +native liquids. Yet to ease the torture he dipped his hand into the +red fluid and rubbed a few drops over his lips. The sting of salt +increased his torment. + +His body shuddered with pain as he pulled himself to his feet. He +crept a few feet along the green highway, and slowly his will mastered +his strength so that he could walk erect. He began to orient himself a +little. On the horizon he saw the skyline of the city he had observed +from the air and he knew he was following the road in the right +direction. + +But the distance was greater than he had estimated. He walked for an +hour and the city still seemed no closer. Nor had he seen any sign of +habitation where he might go for help, nothing except the towering +endless yellow stone wall which he had been following for more than +half an hour. There was neither gate nor break in the stone. Atop the +wall regularly spaced brackets held three naked wires in place. + +The wall probably guarded the estate of a Vininese official, he +decided. In that case the wires were either a warning device or a +charged trap against thieves. Dirrul was puzzled by the obvious +deduction. Such things were necessary on Agron to protect important +installations like the Beam Transmitters--but he had hardly expected +there would be a need for them on Vinin. Yet when he considered it +objectively, why not? Every system of society, no matter how ideal, +would produce inevitable malcontents--there were fools among the +Vininese, as there were among other peoples. + +Dirrul saw a towering gate in the wall and ran ahead eagerly, only to +fall in disappointment against the thick metal grille. The gate was +locked by a concealed device he could not locate. At a considerable +distance inside the wall was a second, higher than the first. Dirrul +saw a faint light at the inner gate and assumed there was a guard of +some sort stationed there. He tried with all his strength to cry out +for help but his throat was dust-dry. He could utter only a faint +whisper. + +When he tried to go on he was overcome with exhaustion. He staggered a +few feet beyond the gate and collapsed into the ditch. He lay face +down in the warm purple grass, his swollen tongue hanging limply from +his mouth. Imperceptibly the thirst began to diminish. After a +moment's speculation Dirrul understood why and crushed a handful of +the purple grass against his lips. It was warm and sweet--a comforting +liquid began to flow down his throat. He plunged his head luxuriously +into a thick mass of the weed, breathing deeply the sweet odor of the +crushed blades. + +A silent grey vehicle darted along the green road and jerked to a stop +in front of the gate. It came so quickly Dirrul had no time to call +out. The Vininese driver stood up and bawled orders at the inner gate. +A faint voice replied. The driver shouted again. The gate swung open +and the vehicle moved inside. + +Bewildered, Dirrul sat up, his head reeling. He understood a little +Vininese, not enough to translate exactly what had been said but +enough to make out a tantalizing half-meaning. The driver was +searching all the work camps, he had said, for the Agronian girl, +Glenna. He wanted to check something or other to see if she were here. + +Work camp? Dirrul decided he must have got the word wrong. Glenna and +Hurd might still be in hospitals but if they had recovered they would +be honored citizens of Vinin. Still--what sort of hospital would have +both double walls and alarm wires? + +Only an asylum for hopeless mental cases! The realization made Dirrul +cold with a terrible fear. Glenna--hopelessly insane! + +To save the Movement it was vital for Dirrul to make his report +immediately. What help could the Vininese get from a madwoman? He +sprang up and ran dizzily to the gate. Before he could shout for the +guard shadowy figures rose up around him, silently closing great hairy +hands over his mouth and dragging him back across the road. + +Tied and gagged Dirrul watched while the black-robed creatures worked +stealthily at the central bars of the gate with tiny blue-flaming +torches. Beneath their flowing capes they were beings like himself, +which indicated that they were either Agronian or Vininese, for by the +perverse chance of biological adaptation the people of the two planets +were so structurally similar that even intermarriage was possible. One +by one they cut out the bars until the span in the gate was wide +enough for them to work their way through. + +For a moment the band stood in the road, apparently talking. At least +their lips moved and their hands fluttered expressively but Dirrul +heard no sound. Reaching a decision they went through the gate in +single file, carrying long vicious weapons with them. Two of the +black-caped men came and stood guard on either side of Dirrul. + +Whatever these vandals were doing they were working in stealth and +fear and Dirrul realized their aim must be illegal. He fought to break +free of his bonds so that he might warn the loyal Vininese garrison. +The two guards shoved him back roughly. One of them grabbed Dirrul's +tunic in a claw grip and the cloth tore open, revealing Sorgel's +identification disk. + +Both guards bent over him, fingering the disk, talking soundlessly +with their facile fingers. Suddenly they jerked the disk off, snapping +the chain. At the same moment a rolling explosion from within the +wall shook the earth. + +Dirrul heard a great noise and a terrifying fear filled his mind. It +was a steady undiminishing fear that gripped every muscle of his body. +His throat was ice-cold. His heart pounded and gasped for breath. +Every nerve-end in his body quivered and his imagination was swamped +with a flood of shattering ephemeral horrors. + +Nothing could shake off the terror. Dirrul's skill with reason and +logic failed him. It was impossible to organize his thinking to combat +the sensory shock waves disrupting his thoughts. Logical patterns made +no sense. The very process of trying to build meaning into them--the +process of thinking itself--left him weak and trembling. + +The guards watched his terror for a moment, watched while he clung +close to the ground, trying to dig his fingers into it. Then one of +them laughed--a piercing discordant shriek, shrilling louder than the +din behind the wall. The second man, snarling viciously, kicked Dirrul +in the ribs. + +For Dirrul the blaze of pain was almost a relief. As his body +responded to it on a level of instinct, the chattering terror in his +mind diminished. A second blow on the head sent him reeling close to +the brink of unconsciousness. His perceptive reactions went slightly +out of focus. + +In a wavering mist he saw the black figures emerge from the gate, +dragging a dozen or more captives with them. A second explosion rocked +the earth and flames leaped high behind the yellow wall. In the glare +Dirrul recognized Glenna, struggling frantically in the arms of her +masked captor. + +Dirrul's memory after that was a vague patchwork of unrelated +episodes. He saw huge saddled reptilian bipeds dragged out of the +concealing brush. The captives were bound in the saddles and the +black-robed figures mounted behind them. Later two of the men pulled +Dirrul up and tied him across a saddle too. + +At a sickening gallop the caravan moved away from the green highway, +striking out over the purple plain. For a while Dirrul lost rational +control of sensation. He felt but without understanding. His brain +pulsed in a continuous terror that seemed to resolve itself into +sound--a continuous high-pitched scream coming from within his own +mind. His body throbbed with pain and nausea wrenched emptily at the +muscles of his stomach. But he could not sort out the feelings, +classify them or adjust to them. + +At the edge of the plain the caravan turned up a steep rocky trail +which led into the ragged range of mountains banked behind the +Vininese city. They came to a stop in a stony ravine, concealed +beneath a tangle of gigantic purple-leafed vines. + +Dirrul's captors dismounted and removed their black cloaks, hiding +them among the rocks. Underneath they wore the warm gray skintight +workers' clothing of Vinin. The majority left their animals tethered +to the roots of the vine and began the steep descent on foot to the +city. Only three remained behind to guard the prisoners. + +They built a small fire and prepared food, serving the hot sweet +chunks of white meat in large wicker baskets. As soon as Dirrul +discovered that he could stomach the food he wolfed his share +hungrily. The guards brought him more. He felt better. Except for the +sing-song ringing in his head he might have been able to think clearly +enough to evaluate his own position. + +But that could be done later. He was overcome by an immense +drowsiness. He relaxed and slept. + + +VI + +A shrill scream woke him with a start of horror. His captors had taken +him from his saddle and propped him against a mound of rocks, along +with the other prisoners. His muscles were numb and dead, so limp it +was almost impossible for him to turn his head. Faintly the whirring +terror whispered in his mind. + +Dirrul's eyes focused slowly on the clearing. One of the prisoners had +been carried there, close to the fire. It was Glenna. Two of her +captors held her while the third bent over her head, probing her ear +with a sharp instrument. His arm moved. Glenna screamed and fainted. +For a moment Dirrul saw the side of her face smeared with a spreading +stain of blood. Then nausea swept over him. When he opened his eyes +again the three men were working over another prisoner at the fire. + +Vaguely Dirrul knew he had to escape. He forgot the Movement--he +thought of nothing any loftier than his own personal survival. The +idea was elemental, built upon the simplest sort of observation and +hypothesis. + +Yet it came slowly and painfully, as if he had just tried to +understand after one reading the Cranmor-Frasher Theory of Diminishing +Corelatives. As he verbalized the conclusion two things happened--the +drug-like languor in his muscles began to disperse and the shrilling +note of terror burst up loud in his mind once more. + +Two of the men brought their last victim back from the fire and laid +his body on the stones close to Dirrul. Dirrul feigned sleep when they +stood over him. One of them prodded him with the tip of a dusty +boot--then they both laughed. + +They went back to the fire and talked soundlessly to their companions, +holding up the identification disk which had been ripped from Dirrul's +neck hours before. That amused them briefly, until one of the three +snatched the disk and hurled it toward the mouth of the ravine in +violent anger. + +The three men pulled thick white skins together near the fire and +crept into them. Dirrul waited until he was sure they slept. It was +the only chance he would have to escape, but when he tried to creep +away his hands collapsed from sheer terror. The crying fear in his +mind was so loud his head seemed to vibrate physically with the +sound. + +Thought was impossible. Judgment and decision were impossible. If he +tried to consider even a problem as simple as the safest means of +passing the dying fire--reason failed him. He could weigh nothing +critically--he could not consider probable courses of rational action. + +Nonetheless he inched forward. It took all the courage and stamina he +possessed. Gradually a strange and foggy understanding formed in his +brain. The terror seemed to die if he planned nothing, merely +responding without thought to the instinctive urge to escape. Let +instinct do the trick then. + +Detached from the control panel of his cerebral cortex his body +mechanism functioned perfectly. It was like a space-ship smoothly +piloted by its automatic navigators. Dirrul gave himself over to his +own built-in stimulus-response relays and the screeching fear +shriveled and died. + +Calm and unhurried he walked past the fire and the sleeping men. As +calmly he searched the mouth of the ravine for Sorgel's disk. When he +found it he stuffed it into the pocket of his tunic and strode +confidently along the trail that led down from the hills. + +It was dawn. In the pink morning light he could see the Vininese city +at his feet, neat, clean, well-blocked streets and towering buildings +of black stone. On the outskirts were the circular space-fields and +the long low flat-roofed interplanetary freight depots. Farther away, +dotting the countryside at regular intervals, were curious +block-shaped windowless structures surrounded by double walls. + +Dirrul had never seen anything like them before but, through a process +of judicial elimination, he decided they must be the Vininese Beam +Transmitters. The defense of Vinin was remarkably thorough, far +surpassing anything of a similar nature on Agron. + +It came to him with something of a shock that he was thinking +rationally once more. His mind was completely clear. He felt ashamed +of the foolish, groundless terror that had unnerved him in the ravine. +He tried to understand what had happened to him but it was beyond +analysis. In retrospect he realized that the danger had been less than +what he faced on any normal day in the Air-Command emergency +maintenance service. + +The only logical explanation was the food they had given him. It must +have been heavily drugged with a new poison known to the Vininese. +Dirrul was tempted to go back and rescue Glenna, if she were still +alive after the torture to which she had been subjected. But he knew +it was more important for him to contact Vininese Headquarters first. +He had a message to deliver. Glenna herself would have wanted that. + +In two hours Dirrul was on the plain again. All the suffering of the +past few hours was gone. The plentiful purple grass had quenched his +thirst and surprisingly eased his hunger as well. He felt keenly alert +and alive. The sun was warm, the air was balmy. He was on Vinin. + +Spiritually he had come home, to the thing he believed in. Not many +men had such opportunity to realize their dreams of perfection. To cap +the triumph Dirrul knew it might still be possible to make his report +and save the Movement on Agron. + +From the top of a purple-swathed knoll he looked down across a +twisting red stream toward the suburbs of the city. Magnificent +black-stone villas, surrounded by stylized gardens, were on both sides +of the green highway. + +Further on, close to the city, were the crowded workers' quarters, +behind them, hidden in a faint mist, the rectangular masses of public +buildings reaching up toward the stars. This was as Paul Sorgel had so +often described it. Such grandeur could only belong to the capital +city of the Vininese Confederacy. + +Under the brow of the knoll Dirrul saw one of the stone block +buildings within its protective double walls. A huge trumpet-like +transmitter was exposed at the top of the structure. In some ways it +resembled the Beam Transmitters on Agron but the differences were so +striking Dirrul knew it was a totally new device--possibly a more +efficient variation invented by the Vininese. The faint hum of +machinery and the regular movement of the sending tube indicated that +the machine was running--but for what purpose Dirrul could only guess. + +The yard between the two walls was patrolled by a smartly disciplined +score of Vininese. Dirrul considered going to them to ask for +transportation to the city but changed his mind. It was very possible +that the installation was secret. The guards might have had +instructions to dispose immediately of any intruder. On the whole it +seemed wiser to go a little farther to one of the walled villas. + +Dirrul walked half a thousand feet along the green highway and turned +up the drive leading toward one of the sprawling mansions. As he +passed the portals of the open gate an alarm bell clanged--seconds +later five Vininese infantry surrounded him, prodding him into the +house with their gleaming weapons. In precise Vininese, carefully +enunciated, Dirrul tried to explain what he wanted--but the guards +made no reply, merely staring at him with cold glazed eyes, +comprehending nothing. + +They threw him roughly into a dark room, where a slim Vininese waited +in a lounge chair. As Dirrul's eyes grew accustomed to the faint light +he saw that the Vininese held a snub-nosed rocket-pistol. + +"Your permit?" the Vininese asked languidly. + +"Yesterday I came here from--" + +"Then you have no permit. I must shoot you, of course." + +"Sir, I have a message from Agron! You must take me to Headquarters!" + +"Oh, you're a tourist. But this is a prohibited area. From the dust +on your tunic, I take it you have done a great deal of walking. A +pity, my friend--naturally you've seen the transmitters." + +"We have them on Agron but it is of no importance." + +The Vininese threw back his head and laughed, "Oh, no--of no +importance--you have seen nothing!" + +"I do not understand you," Dirrul said desperately. "My Vininese is +very poor. But you must help me. I bring news of the Movement on Agron +and time is short." Anxiously Dirrul plunged into his story, tripping +repeatedly over the involved syntax of Vinin to his host's obvious +amusement. + +Eventually, however, he made his point, for the tall Vininese said, +"Then you must be the agent who sent the teleray report. We've been +looking for you, sir. We feared, after you crashed, that you might +have been taken by the vagabonds." Still holding Dirrul centered in +the gunsight the Vininese picked up a portable teleray and asked for +Headquarters. + +While he waited he added, "You must forgive this reception, my friend +from Agron. We have been having so much trouble with the vagabonds +lately we must all go armed. Here in the transmission area we must be +particularly alert." + +His tone was warm but the gun never wavered. When he made his +connection he spoke rapidly into the mouthpiece, too rapidly for +Dirrul to work out an accurate translation. It seemed, however, that +the conversation was centered around the transmitters rather than the +report Dirrul had to make. The Vininese finished the dialogue and +smiled engagingly at Dirrul. + +"I am to take you to the capital, my friend," he said. "They are +preparing a reception for you. You are a hero of Vinin, to have braved +so much for the cause." + +The Vininese came forward suddenly and pulled aside the torn cloth at +the throat of Dirrul's tunic. + +"But you--you must have a disk!" The Vininese was suddenly frightened. +"There is no tourist stamp on your arm. I don't understand." + +"Paul Sorgel loaned me his when I left Agron." Dirrul felt in his +tunic pocket. "He said I was to give it to the Chief when I made my +report but if you must see it now--" + +"No, no--by all means, keep it." The tall man's voice was pleasant +again. "I was simply afraid that someone might have come who--but it +is nothing. I am weary from all this vigilance against the vagabonds. +It is hard to think realistically." + +"I was surprised to see so much lawlessness on Vinin." + +"Then you're very naive, my friend. There's an element like that among +all people, although I must admit ours here have suddenly become +excessively active. Their attacks are so systematic and so +well-organized! Hardly a night passes without trouble at a work camp +or a transmitter station. + +"Your transmitters are different from ours. Have you developed an +improvement in technique?" + +"They are, curious, aren't they? You must ask the Chief to tell you +all about them." The Vininese chuckled with delight. "I wouldn't want +to spoil his surprise by letting you in on the secret first." + + +VII + +The Vininese drove Dirrul to the city in a heavily armed surface car. +Two of the infantrymen sat behind them, their rocket guns ready on +their knees. It was testimony to the efficiency and organization of +Vinin that such a finished reception could be prepared on such short +notice. Dirrul's first intimation of the scope of the ceremony came +when they stopped at a school to be cheered by the pupils. + +Rank upon rank of boys and girls lined up smartly behind the high wire +fence. They ranged in ages from tots, barely able to stand, to young +people in late adolescence. Except for the round metal disks, which +all of them wore, they were completely naked. + +"Clothing breeds such false modesty and so many foolish frustrations," +Dirrul's host explained. "On Vinin every child is reared in completely +objective equality. As soon as we take them from their parents--about +the time when they're first learning to walk--we give them +identification disks. Before that, when they're in the instinct +period, the disks aren't necessary. + +"After their basic education we classify them. The leader-class is +issued permanent disks and the others give theirs up. The adjustment +is something very severe but on the whole the casualties are light." +Suddenly the Vininese seized Dirrul's hand and looked into his eyes. +"I trust you follow me, my friend?" + +"Yes," Dirrul answered. Reason led him to a conclusion as he looked at +the massed children, a conclusion he could not bring himself to face. +He felt a new kind of fear, as cold as the depths of space and as +devoid of emotion. Instead of trusting to his own logic Dirrul +struggled to find a flaw in it--for a man cannot easily watch his +dream turn to dust in his hands. + +They drove on into the city. Rows of men and women in working clothes +lined the streets, cheering wildly in unison. Crossed Vininese flags +were draped between the buildings and brave-colored streamers danced +in the wind. + +"A reception is good for them," the Vininese said. "We need heroes +occasionally. It's fortunate you came when you did. The vagabonds have +had a disturbing effect on morale and it's impossible to suppress the +news entirely." + +The vehicle stopped before the towering government building. Dirrul +was led up a flight of stone steps to a wide porch overlooking the +mass of cheering upturned faces in the public square. He stood +motionless while speeches were made and gay ribbon was draped around +his neck. The air shook with bright explosions--a huge flag was +unfurled over the porch--band music began to blare and a tidal wave of +precision-trained Vininese infantry wheeled into the square. + +An official touched Dirrul's arm. "You must take the salute of our +work-leaders now." + +Dirrul was pushed back against the stone railing as an orderly mob +filed past, blank-faced and chattering with meaningless pleasure. Many +of them pressed forward to touch his hand before the guards tactfully +hurried them on. When the organized confusion was at its height a tiny +square of paper was slipped into his hand. + +Dirrul had no idea which of the mob had given it to him and he dared +not glance at it. But he managed to hide the paper in the band of his +tunic. + +Hour by hour the throng filed past, endless and meaningless. It was an +agony for Dirrul. For the first time he looked into the face of his +dream and saw the reality of Vinin--order, discipline, efficiency--and +utter blankness. Unhappily he recalled one of Dr. Kramer's lectures. + +"... Defiance of convention, confusion, frustration, stubbornness--yes +and a touch of the neurotic too--these goad the individual into +solving problems. And problem solving is progress. An orderly society +that asks no questions of itself, a society that has no doubts, is a +dying society...." + +Dirrul understood the professor at last. He looked squarely at the +fact of what he was, a traitor to his own people, on the verge of +betraying them. He had been wonderfully deluded by his own +self-deception. + +But the job wasn't quite finished. The Vininese would not have gone to +take Glenna from the hospital if they had understood his teleray. Let +them splurge on their reception! He was unimpressed. When the time +came for questions to be answered he would conveniently forget why he +had been sent to Vinin. Nothing they could do would drag it out of +him. + +The crowd thinned and Dirrul was taken inside the building, where his +Vininese host awaited him. Sighing deeply the Vininese stood up. +"These public displays do take so much of our time," he said, "but +it's over now." This last seemed to amuse him and he repeated it +softly before adding, "The Chief's ready to see you." + +Remembering the note and the flimsy possibility that it might suggest +a way out, Dirrul answered quickly, "But, sir, I really ought to clean +up first." + +"You Agronians have such weird notions of propriety!" + +"I would feel more presentable to your Chief if--if I could have a +bath. Perhaps I might even borrow a change of clothing." + +The Vininese fingered his chin thoughtfully. "It might be more +amusing. Yes, the Chief can wait a few minutes longer for you to +satisfy your vanity." + +He summoned a blank-faced liveried servant and asked for a clean +worker's suit for Dirrul. Then he took Dirrul to the wall tube and +they shot noiselessly to an upper floor. As he left Dirrul at the +door of a luxurious suite, the Vininese said, "When you change your +clothes, my friend, don't forget to take the disk out of your tunic. +The Chief will want it when you see him." + +When he was sure he was alone Dirrul spread open the note. It was a +crude drawing of a hearing aid and beneath it a cryptic sentence +written in Agronian, + + _I lost mine and so has Glenna now._ + +The signature was unmistakably Hurd's but the note made no sense. +Hurd's hearing was as sound as Dirrul's. He had never used a +mechanical device--how could he have lost it then? _So has +Glenna_--that must be the key. Hurd somehow knew about the vagabond +raiding party that had rescued Glenna from the mental hospital. He +must have escaped from the Vininese earlier himself. He was probably +hiding somewhere in the capital. + +Working on this hypothesis Dirrul made a guess that the thing Hurd had +lost was his illusion about the Vininese system. The hearing aid +symbolized what Hurd had been told about it, as opposed to the reality +which he saw with his own eyes. + +But such an interpretation didn't ring entirely true. It was too +involved for an idea which could have been better expressed in four +words--_I know the truth_. Tossing the note aside Dirrul turned on the +water in the shower room and thoughtfully disrobed. + +As he threw his tunic aside a violent paralyzing terror seized his +mind, making his head sing with a screeching vibration. Blindly he +snatched up the tunic in order to stuff the cloth into his mouth so he +would not cry out. But as soon as he pressed it against his skin his +terror vanished, like a siren suddenly stilled. + +The pattern of the real truth fell into place then. Now he understood +the power of Vinin. Experimentally he took Sorgel's disk out of his +tunic and laid it on a table. As soon as he did so the blinding +nameless horror flamed up. When he held the disk again the exhausting +emotion vanished. + +Looking back Dirrul saw an abundance of evidence that might have given +him a clue, had he not spent so much mental effort bolstering his +illusion of Vinin. There was the circumstance of his own unrelenting +terror when he was without the disk in the ravine--the painful sight +of his captors puncturing the prisoners' eardrums--the soundless talk +of the vagabonds, like the lip-reading of the deaf--the bleak +orderliness of the cheering mobs--and, most obvious of all, the +strange transmitters atop the well-guarded stone block-buildings. + +It was all there, even to the final cruelty to the children. What was +it the Vininese had said? "The adjustment is sometimes very severe but +on the whole the casualties are light." And the very young, before +they were taken from their parents, didn't need disks because they +were in what the Vininese had called "the instinct period." + +Dirrul knew what Hurd's drawing meant. Somehow Hurd had lost his +hearing, perhaps as a result of the beating the police had given him +on Agron. In any case only the deaf could think rationally on Vinin. +Hurd was telling Dirrul to shatter his own sense of hearing if he +still had the will to think and act for himself. The nightmare Dirrul +had witnessed in the ravine was not torture but the bravery of +desperate men attempting to rescue rational minds. + +The Rational Potential--the gift of the legendary Earthmen! Like the +processes of thought itself it could never be wiped out by argument or +reason once it was understood. The Earthmen had wasted centuries +trying to undo their own evolved rationality before they realized it +could not be done. Now, on a higher level in another plane, the +Vininese were struggling to submerge the Earthmen's second achievement +of the Rational Potential. + +It was done by their transmitters. A wave of some sort--probably +subsonic or supersonic--continuously filled the Vininese atmosphere. +The Vininese who wore the disks were protected against it. The others +succumbed if they retained their hearing. As Dirrul himself had +discovered in the ravine, when he did not consciously think the terror +diminished. + +All Vininese children were given a basic education. It built up their +automatic responses, established correct stimulus-response behavior +patterns. Then, for the masses, the protective disks were eliminated +and the screeching fear pounded at them until the processes of +creative thinking were destroyed, leaving a backlog of malleable and +obedient habit patterns. The problem solving was done for them by +their masters. + +The Vininese Confederacy--half the galaxy--was peopled by billions +upon billions of robot races, ruled by a handful of men with absolute +power. To that Dirrul would have betrayed his planet! To slavery and +to the destruction of the Rational Potential, all for the slippery +dream of orderliness and efficiency which masqueraded as progress. + +He could save Agron today--but for how long? Sorgel would bewitch +countless other discontented Agronian fools. The Movement would try +again and one day the Vininese space fleet would penetrate the +Agronian Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had to escape. He had to go home and +tell the truth about Vinin. + +And it was impossible. He was completely trapped with no visible way +out for himself. + + +VIII + +Dirrul stood in front of the metal-surfaced reflector, fingering the +cap of his ear. To survive as a thinking being he must deafen himself. +Yet he hesitated. Self-inflicted violence was the negation of the +Rational Potential. + +Then, slowly, he developed a new idea. He could use the power of +Vinin, to save Agron if not himself! + +There came a knock on his door. Dirrul drew on his tunic as a stranger +entered the room. + +"The Chief is impatient--you must come at once." + +Durril was led through a metal-roofed tunnel into a wide sunny +transparent-walled room at the top of the building. The door closed +behind him. He was alone with a tall smooth-faced man, exotically +costumed in a tight black suit crusted with white jewels and framed by +a white cloak thrown loosely around his shoulders. He sat back of a +tremendous desk--behind his chair was a tilted panel of dials, levers +and tiny glowing lights, running the length of the room under the +ceiling-high window. + +"It is always a pleasure to welcome a hero of the Vininese +Confederacy," the Chief said without getting up. His tone was slow, +tired, emotionless. His eyes were without expression. "May I ask your +name?" + +"Dirrul--Edward Dirrul." + +"And you come from Agron with a message from our agent," he said, +speaking Agronian. "So much we got from your teleray. In fifty +days--actually forty-nine from now, by your time--your local Movement +will have use for a Vininese space-fleet. I have already dispatched +Sub-units B and C. Now, if you will give me the details of your Plan I +can code-wave them to my commander." + +"There's been a mistake, sir. What I really meant when I sent the +message was--" + +"So you've discovered the truth." The Chief's hand darted toward a +cubicle of his desk and he held a metal-barreled weapon aimed steadily +at Dirrul. "These things are always so tedious. Give me your disk." + +"Of course," Dirrul agreed readily but as he felt in his pocket the +Chief gestured negatively with his weapon. + +"No, keep it." After a pause he added, "You're certain that you know, +Dirrul?" + +"I've seen the transmitters." + +"Then why aren't you afraid? Why do you consent so readily? The others +are always terrified--they'll confess to anything if I promise to let +them keep the disks. Have you ever heard the sound, Dirrul? Do you +really know what it's like?" + +"You want information from me. You have no chance of getting it if you +deprive me of the ability to think." + +"Granted. And otherwise?" + +"You won't get it either." + +The Chief sighed wearily. "You are simply trading one romantic +illusion for another. You have somehow convinced yourself that one +man--one lone Agronian--can hold out against us. Let me tell you a +little about our system, Dirrul, so you'll understand how futile it is +to waste your time and mine like this." Not a trace of feeling came +into his voice. He sounded slightly bored, reciting a matter-of-fact +chronology of statistics. + +"As you have guessed we create our leader-class on each of our planets +by protecting them from the sound waves with the disks. If scattered +groups among the general public should ever gain immunity--as far as +we know only idiots and the deaf can do that--they could never carry +out a successful revolt. The only way would be for the transmitter +stations to be silenced. + +"However, every unit operates independently on its own power. We have +thousands of them on every planet. All but one could be destroyed, and +that one transmitter would still be enough to control the planet. You +begin to see, I think, that any kind of resistance is foolish. In time +you can be made to do as I ask. Unfortunately, we have no time to +spare. + +"Perhaps you're thinking that outsiders--tourists, let's say--could +come here and overthrow us. All rational beings in the galaxy are +subject to the same physical laws. They still must hear and if they do +they're powerless. + +"Besides, our secret is remarkably well-kept. The tourists and +merchants come to our planet in droves. They notice nothing--because +of the amusing idiosyncrasy of Vininese customs men, who are required +to stamp the hand of each visitor with an identification mark. The +coloring material is atomically constituted to act as a temporary disk +while the tourist is among us. He notices nothing amiss. He sees what +we want him to see--he goes home favorably impressed--and by that time +the mark has worn away. You get the general picture, Dirrul? Nothing +can ever defeat us." + +"Nothing but yourselves." + +"Romantic nonsense! Let me show you what I can do, Dirrul, even when +you wear a disk. I think you'll bargain then." The Chief turned a +little to face the panel behind his desk, feeling over the dials while +he kept Dirrul framed in his gunsight. + +"The young man you went to this morning for help is a sadist. The +reception was his idea--so was your bath. He likes to have our +traitors--and you are a traitor, of course, to your own people--he +likes to have them discover the truth before we take their disks away. +It's an exquisite torture but in your case annoying, since it puts you +in a position to bargain. Now it occurs to me that your host should be +disciplined for his bungling." + +The Chief pointed to the surface of his desk. "Watch the screen, +Dirrul." An opaque rectangle glowed with light, slowly came into +focus, and revealed a large mirrored lounge, where a number of +official Vininese stood talking and drinking. The Chief twisted a +dial, pulled a lever and one of the Vininese collapsed, writhing on +the glassy floor in violent agony. + +The screen went blank. + +"I have not only decontrolled your friend's disk," the Chief explained +blandly, "but I have doubled his receptability to sound. I can +continue the treatment until he goes mad--or I can snap it off and let +it serve as a warning. + +"From this panel here I control every disk-wearer on Vinin--including +yourself, Dirrul. You understand, I think, that there can never be +any disloyalty among our leaders--they're consciously aware of the +consequences. And revolt in the ranks is physically impossible. We're +safe, you see, even from ourselves." + +Once again there was a slight trace of emotion in the weary voice. "No +doubt you also gather, Dirrul, who is the real ruler of Vinin. There +are a hundred thousand of us, more or less, scattered throughout the +Confederacy. All right--tell me what I need to know. If your Plan +succeeds I'll deputize you for Agron when we annex it." + +Suddenly Dirrul saw the answer. His heart leaped with joy and it was +difficult to keep the feeling out of his voice when he said, "You have +been talking to me in my own tongue." Carefully he inched toward the +desk. "And understanding me." + +"Entirely beside the point." + +"Not entirely. You hear what I say--which means that you must wear a +disk too." + +Dirrul sprang across the desk. At the same time the Chief raised his +weapon and fired. Flame seared Dirrul's cheek. A red mist welled +before him and he reeled back against the control panel as the Chief +fired again. The second explosion was so close it seemed to be within +his own mind. + +The Chief's hand clawed at Dirrul's tunic, ripping the disk away from +him. Recoiling in anticipation of the dread shock wave, Dirrul hurled +himself at the Chief. + +But instead of the screaming terror he felt nothing. An inexplicable +force seemed to close in on him. His head spun dizzily but his mind +still functioned. He smashed his fist into the face of the Chief and +the body sagged to the floor. + +Dirrul stood bewildered, looking at his hand. A mass of flesh-like +material, torn from the Chief's face, clung to his knuckles. Dirrul +bent over the man and touched his skin. It crumbled under pressure and +the lifelike purple coloring ran. Dirrul peeled the putty away until +he could make out the shape of the pale wrinkled very aged face +beneath. + +Sickened he moved away--for he had seen the ruler of Vinin. + + +IX + +Dirrul backed into the desk, knocking a fragile statuette to the +floor. When it lay shattered at his feet he understood why he could +still plan and reason, even though the disk was gone. The Chief's +shot, fired so close to his head, had deafened him either temporarily +or permanently. + +Dirrul ran to the control panel and twisted dials frantically, pulling +every lever he could find. He had no idea what he was doing and it +didn't matter so long as something happened. If he could decontrol +even half the disks on Vinin it would create enough confusion to cover +his own escape. + + * * * * * + +Twenty-five days later the Space-dragon shot up from the space-field +which was hidden among the stony Vininese mountain ravines. As it cut +through the stratosphere Dirrul's bonds were released. He felt +exhausted and empty. His last memory was of talking to Hurd on the +mountain trail. Beyond that was a blank. He looked up at Glenna, as +beautiful as ever but somehow more mature. + +"You're all right now, Eddie?" she asked in a loud voice that betrayed +her deafness. + +"I think so. Where are you taking me?" + +She touched her ears, still crudely bandaged. "You must say everything +very slowly, Eddie. I haven't yet learned to read lips as well as Hurd +does." + +"Where are we going?" + +"Back to Agron." + +"We have no right, Glenna--we're traitors!" + +"We have a duty to tell them the truth. What they do with us doesn't +matter." + +He shook his head weakly, still lost in his stupor. "Tell me what +happened, Glenna--I can't remember anything." + +"You got out of the government building and stole a Space-dragon. Then +you came looking for us. Just after you met Hurd your hearing began to +come back and of course you lost control of yourself. Hurd wanted to +break your eardrums but I wouldn't let him. + +"Since we had a space-ship at last we could get away from Vinin and I +knew you'd be all right when we did. But it took us a month to steal +enough fuel. Something you did in the government building paralyzed a +lot of the leaders for a while but by the time we got around to +looking for fuel the others had restored order again." + +The door of the control room slid open and Hurd dropped down on the +bunk beside Dirrul. "Feeling better?" he asked anxiously. + +"I guess so. The whole picture's beginning to come back." + +Hurd sighed with relief and his face relaxed. + +Dirrul asked slowly, "How did you get away from them, Hurd?" + +"I lost my hearing in the beating Sorgel gave me on Agron." + +"_Sorgel!_" Dirrul repeated unbelievingly. It was the last illusion to +go and for that reason the most painful. "Then it wasn't the Agronian +police--" + +"Of course it was Sorgel," Glenna said quietly. "He had to get rid of +us because we wouldn't go along with him on the idea of a Vininese +invasion. I tried so hard to tell you, Eddie, but I couldn't because +of the drugs they gave us." + +"The Vininese never knew I was deaf," Hurd went on. "It's easy enough +to escape from a work camp when you can think for yourself. The +Vininese resistance found me in the hills and I've been working with +them ever since. A pitiful band of the deaf, fighting insurmountable +odds to win back the human dignity of half the galaxy! But they won't +turn tail and run and their numbers grow every time they raid a work +camp." + +"Were you with the men who kidnapped Glenna?" + +"We were all out that night, trying to keep watch on the camps near +the capital. We didn't know which one Glenna was in but I was sure the +Vininese would try to reach her after they got your teleray message. +We counted on the Vininese leading us to her and we knew we had to +kidnap her first if we were to keep them from learning about the Plan +on Agron. + +"Unfortunately I wasn't with the group that picked you up, Eddie. They +thought they had taken a Vininese leader and it seemed such a suitable +punishment to take your disk away and let you hear the sound for a +while. Later--after you'd escaped--when the others described your +Air-Command uniform I took a chance and sent my note." + +He helped Dirrul to his feet. "You'll have to take over from here on +in, Eddie. You said you knew how to pilot this thing. I figured out a +take-off but that's as far as I can go." + +"Sorgel's pilot showed me once," he said. "What I don't remember I'll +improvise. He said a Space-dragon could make the run in thirty days. +This baby's got to do it in less than twenty-five if we're going to +beat the Vininese fleet to Agron." + +"You didn't tell them the Plan, did you, Eddie?" + +"No." + +"The Vininese won't land without instructions." + +"Sorgel may get up enough courage to send a teleray code. We can't +take any chances either." + +Dirrul drove himself without rest. He cut every corner he knew, used +every trick of navigational skill he had ever learned. Nonetheless it +was twenty-eight days before the little ship hung in the air over the +Agronian capital. + +His heart sank. On the space-field, in neat ranks, the Vininese +space-fleet was drawn up in proud review. The planet had fallen! +Dirrul made his decision instinctively. + +The Space-dragon wheeled and swept low over the field, its vicious +guns blazing. The yellow clouds of destruction swept up toward the +sky--the little ship was caught in the blazing flame. The +interplanetary freight sheds loomed ahead. And the world exploded, +falling apart into a soothing painless silence. + + * * * * * + +Dirrul opened his eyes and looked at the neutral blue of a hospital +ceiling. Gradually he became conscious of Dr. Kramer, seated by the +bed. + +"Dr. Kramer!" Dirrul whispered. "Then everything's all right." + +"If by everything you mean your companions, yes. There's even a chance +we can restore the girl's hearing." + +"And the Vininese?" + +"Defeated." + +"Dr. Kramer, we've got to destroy the Confederacy! I saw their +transmitters--I know how their system works." + +"Hush, Edward--I promised not to excite you. We know about it." + +"Then how could you have been foolish enough to let them land?" + +"It seemed a pity not to give a few of their people another chance. +It's working out quite nicely too." + +"I don't follow you, Dr. Kramer." + +"Long ago we became interested when tourists told us about the curious +block-buildings on Vinin. Our physics boys worked out an ingenious +device for analyzing their atmosphere. It was a little machine +concealed in the lining of an ordinary air-freight crate, as I recall. + + * * * * * + +"A machine is quite objective, Edward--and Customs men don't stamp +freight crates with the negative adaptors. When we learned that a +Vininese fleet was going to land here we simply issued insulating +helmets to all our people and let them come. As soon as we destroyed +their portable transmitters the Vininese army proved quite adaptable +to a new environment." + +"Then--I did nothing to help when I destroyed their fleet?" + +"Unfortunately you wounded two of our mechanics." + +"I'm a traitor, Dr. Kramer. Even when I try I can't redeem myself!" + +"Only on Vinin can you betray an external absolute, Edward. To an +Agronian all objective concepts are relative to the subjective +interpretations made by each individual. You can only be a traitor to +yourself." + +"The words are pleasant to say to a sick man but the fact remains--I +would have betrayed Agron." + +"But you didn't. Why not?" + +"When I saw what their efficiency really meant--" + +"You changed your mind before you knew about the transmitters?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you're libeling yourself. Don't trap yourself in another +self-delusion, Edward. All that's happened is that you've grown up." + +Dirrul said slowly, feeling for words that would express the idea as +he felt it, "When I was in the center of the galaxy, looking out on +space, I almost grasped a new concept but I lost it when the Agronian +patrol attacked me. It's coming back. + +"Time and space seem to be one and the same. Neither exists as an +objective reality. There is no past and no future--all of it occurs +eternally in the instant of my own being. I am everything and +nothing--infinity and a speck lost in space." + +"Thus you discover the Rational Potential," Dr. Kramer smiled. "I +think you're ready for the space-pilot promotional, Edward." After a +pause Dr. Kramer inquired, "Did you see the Chief of Vinin, Edward?" + +"Then you know about that too?" + +"I've guessed--it seems likely." + +"I scraped off the putty and the face color. Beneath it he was an +Earthman. A hundred thousand of them rule the Confederacy." + +"All time and space, forever occurring for each of us in the instant +of now! Yes, he would be an Earthman, Edward--quite logically. Both +good and evil begin with the same source. Both have the same Rational +Potential. The act of being has always been the same struggle of +constant forces, between the absolute and the relative. The time never +changes nor the event but merely the passing illusion of place." + +Shaking his head the chubby professor departed. Dirrul closed his +eyes, at peace with himself. + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Instant of Now, by Irving E. Cox, Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INSTANT OF NOW *** + +***** This file should be named 31651-8.txt or 31651-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/6/5/31651/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Cox, Jr. + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Instant of Now + +Author: Irving E. Cox, Jr. + +Release Date: March 15, 2010 [EBook #31651] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INSTANT OF NOW *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe Aug-Sept 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="585" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="sidenote"><i>One of the most intriguing of all science fiction patterns +is that of the galactic sweep—the story which takes for granted human +travel between stars at speeds far faster than the speed of light. In +its most successful form, such a story combines cosmic action with a +wholly human plot. In this case Mr. Cox—but read it yourself.</i></div> + +<p> </p> +<h1>the instant of now</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2><i>by ... Irving E. Cox, Jr.</i></h2> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>Revolution is not necessarily a noble thing. Unless shrewdly +directed, its best elements may fall victim to its basest +impulses.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Eddie Dirrul had destroyed the message seconds after reading it. Yet, +as he left the pneumotube from the University, he felt as if it were +burning a hole in his pocket. It had come to him from Paul Sorgel, the +new top-agent from the Planet Vinin. It had been written in High +Vininese.</p> + +<p>For a moment the alien language had slowed Eddie's reaction to its +contents, as had the shocking nature of its words. It had read—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Need your help. Glenna and Hurd in brush with Secret +Police—both hurt. Come at once.</i></p></div> + +<p>Luckily old Dr. Kramer had asked no awkward questions when Eddie +excused himself from the balance of the lecture. If the kindly +bumbling professor had been inquisitive, Eddie had no idea how he +would have answered. Glenna was his fiancée, Hurd his best friend—and +their disaster meant disaster for the underground movement that had +become the guiding purpose of his entire life.</p> + +<p>The night was still young when he emerged from the pneumotube and the +slanting ramp-lines of windows in the massive unit-blocks of the +Workers' Suburb rose about him within the darkness of the structural +frames that encased them.</p> + +<p>Parks, recreation centers and gaudy amusement halls were aswirl with +the usual evening crowds. With a sort of angry heedlessness Eddie +forced his way among tall perpetually-youthful men in bright leisure +clothing—and consciously alluring women clad in filmy garments as +teasingly transparent as mist.</p> + +<p><i>Glenna hurt—and Hurd!</i> Seriously, of course, or Paul Sorgel would +never have risked a hand-message. With quiet desperation he pushed +through the crowds—in his trim grey Air-command uniform he was one +with them, a nonentity like themselves.</p> + +<p>He knew where to find the three he sought. Beyond the outdoor courts, +where his fellow-Agronians amused themselves with a variety of +racquet-games, lay a tiny park, wherein a state of wild disorder was +carefuly maintained in imitation of nature.</p> + +<p>Few were attracted by its rugged growth, save in very warm weather, +when hardy souls ventured within its borders to relax in artificial +breezes created by silent concealed fans. In its center stood a small +stone building that housed the maintenance machinery. It was deserted, +except for once each year when the city engineering crews came to +check the machines and to make minor repairs. There the Libero-Freedom +Movement held its meetings, in the shadow of the whirring wheels.</p> + +<p>Sorgel came out of the shadows as Dirrul pushed through the thicket of +brush that surrounded the stone building. In a hushed whisper he +asked, "That you, Eddie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—where are they?"</p> + +<p>"Inside. I gave them a hypo—they're both under now. It makes it +easier."</p> + +<p>"How did it happen, Paul?"</p> + +<p>"I was to meet Glenna and Hurd at her apartment, to talk over the +details of the Plan. The police were there ahead of me but I broke up +the party before they could finish the job. Since they've got to do +this sort of thing unofficially, to be able to deny it later if any +questions are asked, I scared them off easily enough. I brought Glenna +and Hurd here in my Unicyl but I'll need your help to get them out."</p> + +<p>"This is the second time it's happened, Paul!" said Eddie. "And the +Plan—we'll have to organize all over again. As soon as our people +hear about this most of them will run like scared rabbits."</p> + +<p>"Not if they don't know, Eddie. That's where you come in. We've got to +get Glenna and Hurd away from Agron. If there's no evidence of a crime +there's no reason for an investigation."</p> + +<p>"But what can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Borrow one of the Air-command's surface jets for a while."</p> + +<p>Paul Sorgel's plan was simple and efficient. The Air-Command field was +fenced with electronic paralysis barriers and the entrance was heavily +guarded. But no watch was kept inside the encampment except for a +daily inspection of the machines when the guard was changed at dawn. +Since Dirrul was a Captain of the Space-maintenance Division, 73rd +Air-Command Wing, he was able to enter the area at any time without +question. Among the scheduled night training flights for new cadets, +the departure of one more surface jet would pass unobserved.</p> + +<p>"Come back here for Glenna and Hurd," Sorgel said, "and take them out +to the South Desert. If there's no hitch you should be back before +dawn, with time to spare. If not...." Sorgel shrugged. "Eddie, we +can't build a better universe without taking occasional risks."</p> + +<p>Slowly Dirrul's body tensed with fear. In a cold dead voice he asked, +"Am I to leave them there, without help or medicine, to die of thirst +and hunger?"</p> + +<p>"Many sacrifices are necessary for the good of the Movement."</p> + +<p>"But Glenna and Hurd are our leaders!"</p> + +<p>"The freedom of the universe means a little more, I think, than the +temporary safety of two individuals." Sorgel lit a cigarette. In the +faint pink reflection of the Glo-Wave lighter his face was emptily +placid, a faint smile twisting the corners of his lips. "Suppose I say +it's a command, Dirrul—a Vininese command, calling for Vininese +discipline."</p> + +<p>After a moment Dirrul replied in a choked whisper, "I'll take them, +sir."</p> + +<p>Sorgel smiled and the crisp tone of authority edged out of his voice. +"As a matter of fact, Eddie, I was curious to see what you would do. +The Vininese Confederacy practises neither cruelty nor deception. +You'll find one of our Space-dragons hidden in a gorge of the Katskain +Range. It's the ship I came in a week ago.</p> + +<p>"The pilot was instructed to wait fifteen planetary revolutions in the +event that I might have a report to send back to Headquarters. You +must learn to trust me, Eddie. From the first, you see, I intended to +send Glenna and Hurd to Vinin. If they get there in time there's a +chance our Medical Corps can pull them through. They may even be back +here with us for the day when we carry out the Plan."</p> + +<p>Dirrul was in no real danger. Much as it benefited the Movement the +laxity of Agronian security was one of the chief reasons why Dirrul +scorned the Planetary Union. The space-wide patrols of the +Air-Command, the city guards and the electronic paralysis barricades +created a feeling of internal control—but it was all a glittering +sham. If it were not for the Nuclear Beams the whole system would long +since have crumbled under the first pressure from outside.</p> + +<p>With no difficulty he picked up Glenna and Hurd and took them to the +South Desert, where he put them aboard the sleek Vininese space-ship. +It was one of the new Dragon design—compact, efficient, faster than +anything built by the Planetary Union, protected by sixteen circular +batteries and yet small enough to be handled by one man.</p> + +<p>Dirrul had seen only one other Vininese Space-dragon and that from a +distance at the Agronian commercial airport, when the last Vininese +ambassador arrived. Technically there was no reason why Paul Sorgel +could not have landed there as well, except that the Customs +questionnaire might have proved embarrassing.</p> + +<p>Twenty years earlier, when Dirrul was still a schoolboy, the Galactic +War had ended. Since that time relations between the Planetary Union +and the Vininese Confederacy had steadily improved—at least in +appearance. Undoubtedly there were commercial interests on both sides +anxious to maintain peace and in recent years the quantity of goods in +trade had grown enormously. But it was a truce, not a peace—a +compromise, rather than a victory—forced on the galaxy when the +scientists of the Planetary Union discovered the Nuclear Beams.</p> + +<p>Pain shot through Dirrul's mind as he carried Glenna into the +pressurized chamber under the control room. She and Hurd were still +unconscious but Glenna turned in his arms and her eyes fluttered open. +She looked at him and screamed in terrible agony before the pilot of +the Space-dragon plunged a hypodermic sedative into her arm.</p> + +<p>"It is better," he said to Dirrul in throaty Vininese. "So beautiful a +one should not feel the pain." Carefully he fastened the needlepoint +of a wall tube into Glenna's vein and another into Hurd's.</p> + +<p>"Synthetic blood feeding," he said with a smile. "It will keep them +alive, perhaps even permitting minor wounds to heal, until I deliver +them to the authorities on Vinin. You see, sir, my little ship is +well-equipped." He slammed the round door of the hospital room shut +and led Dirrul to the control blister.</p> + +<p>"How long will it be, this trip to Vinin?" Dirrul asked, speaking very +slowly in classical Vininese. Like everyone in the Movement he had +studied the language of Vinin as a sort of courtesy and duty but he +had no illusion about his small ability to handle it.</p> + +<p>"In terms of your time," the pilot said, "about thirty days."</p> + +<p>"Only thirty? The Planetary Union hasn't a ship that could make it +under sixty!"</p> + +<p>"But this is a Space-dragon." The words were self-explanatory.</p> + +<p>Proudly the pilot showed Dirrul the controls, as functional and as +uncomplex as the cool clean lines of the ship herself. The design was +so logical, so basically simple, that within a few minutes Dirrul +understood enough of the mechanism to have driven the ship himself.</p> + +<p>"Your scientists could do as well," the pilot suggested, "if they +wished."</p> + +<p>"Not mine," Dirrul said.</p> + +<p>"Pardon—the scientists of the Planetary Union. On Vinin we create for +the future, for the progress of the Confederacy. We have no patience +with petty argument, tedious experimentation or the pointless +splitting of hairs that seems to occupy so much of your time here. For +us a scientist is a producer, like everyone else. If he fails to do +his job we replace him."</p> + +<p>Pleased with the comparison the pilot chuckled over his dials as he +turned on the power. Above the roar he said to Dirrul, "We must talk +again one day, sir. If you ever have the good fortune to come to Vinin +be sure to look me up."</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>As the Vininese ship shot smoothly out into the night sky, Dirrul's +surface jet slashed back toward the Agronian capital. A synthetic +tension, which he deliberately fed with nightmare improbabilities, +kept him reasonably alert until he had safely returned the jet to its +place in the compound. Then weariness engulfed him. Groggily he +staggered to the pneumotube and within five minutes he was asleep in +the small two-room worker's apartment where he lived.</p> + +<p>The insistent <i>ping</i> of the door visiscope woke him. Dirrul glanced at +his wall clock and saw that it was still early morning. He had slept +less than three hours. Swearing angrily he turned down the visiarm. +Dr. Kramer's serene aging white-bearded face was mirrored on the +grey-tinted screen.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Edward," Kramer said with excessive cheerfulness. "For +a moment I was afraid I had missed you. I've brought a transcription +of the lecture you missed yesterday."</p> + +<p>Dirrul swung out of bed and pushed the entry release. Soundlessly the +thin metal door slid into the wall and the little professor bounced +into the room. The door shot back into place.</p> + +<p>"But you're not dressed!" the professor exclaimed without the +slightest regret. "I always supposed you Air-Command men had to report +for work at eight."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday I was out on emergency call," Dirrul said dully. "For +twelve hours, so I've the morning off. I had planned to pound the +pillow until—"</p> + +<p>"Good! We can talk, then. I don't have a class until ten and I always +like to make the personal acquaintance of my students." Dr. Kramer +made himself comfortable in Dirrul's Cloud-foam lounge, clasping his +small, white hands over the little bulge of his belly. "Nice apartment +you have here, Edward—excellent taste in furnishing."</p> + +<p>"You don't mind if I shave and dress and have a bite of breakfast, Dr. +Kramer?" Dirrul's sarcasm was quite lost on the professor.</p> + +<p>"Do, by all means," Kramer said. "And you might order a pot of coffee +for me."</p> + +<p>Dirrul touched a button and the bed rolled up into the wall—another +and the gleaming metal shower-room slid open. He stripped and bathed, +setting the aquadial so that his body was pounded by a sharp rain of +icy water. When he snapped it off the massage arms shot out, rubbing +him dry with soft, plastic puffs. He sprayed the newly patented +No-Beard Mist on his face and, after waiting the required three +seconds, wiped it off with a disposable fiber towel. The skin was +pink and clean, refreshingly invigorated. When he took a fresh uniform +out of the wall-press and put it on he felt very much himself again, +scarcely annoyed by his lack of sleep.</p> + +<p>He pushed the button and the bathroom rolled out of sight. The whole +process had taken less than five minutes.</p> + +<p>At his panel-control Dirrul dialed a sizable breakfast for himself and +coffee for the professor. Before he could draw up chairs the +grey-topped table had rolled from its wall slot, the steaming food +containers fixed to it.</p> + +<p>"The marvels of invention!" Dr. Kramer said. "When I was young we had +nothing like this. Many times, Edward, I had to prepare my own +meals—and mighty skimpy ones they were too, some of them. A young +teacher in those days wasn't paid very much."</p> + +<p>"You survived, Dr. Kramer," Dirrul reminded him dryly. "A little work +now and then wouldn't hurt us, either."</p> + +<p>"That's the old argument, Edward. How we frothed and stewed over it +when this new system was in its infancy! That was before your time, of +course." Kramer poured a cup of coffee and after a thoughtful +hesitation quietly took a slice of toast from Dirrul's platter. "They +said we'd create a race of helpless children—defenseless lazy +softies. They said if the individual wasn't forced to fight for his +own survival, for the small comforts of life, he would die of boredom, +drown initiative in luxury."</p> + +<p>Dr. Kramer smiled—and took another slice of toast. "Like so many of +the terrifying predictions of the Cassandras none of it came to pass. +Today we're stronger and more vigorous than ever. Today we have more +new inventions, more new discoveries, more fine philosophical insight +than ever before in our entire history.</p> + +<p>"Actually what we did was save time on the trivial routines so we +could spend our work-potential where it mattered. After all, what was +gained by a social system that forced me to spend so much of my energy +feeding and housing and clothing myself? Weigh the loss against the +greater contribution I might have made if I had spent the same time in +research."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Dr. Kramer—you could have given us the Cloud-foam lounge a +generation earlier," Dirrul said bitterly, "or perhaps the Safe-sweet +candy."</p> + +<p>Again his sarcasm lost its savor, for the professor simply beamed and +said, "Possibly, if that had been my field of interest. As it happens +I'm a psychologist specializing in emotive linguistics—the +symbologies for conveying meanings." The professor smiled.</p> + +<p>"Our present vigor and strength, no doubt, is reflected in the sort of +thing we do with all this extra time our gadgets give us—the +scholarly research in the Arena or the Phonoview."</p> + +<p>"You're being very uncritical, Edward. Under any social form a great +majority of the people would spend everything on personal pleasures. +Why not? Each generation produces only a few leaders—we simply +recognize that fact and adjust to it."</p> + +<p>"But without the incentive of personal gain, Dr. Kramer...."</p> + +<p>The professor laughed uproariously. "Incentive! You amaze me, Edward. +I haven't heard the word used in just that context since I was a boy. +You're a throwback—an anachronism. You sound like one of the elderly +prophets of doom. I thought the breed had died out generations ago." +The professor laughed again. "So our system creates no incentives. +Tell me, Edward, why are you spending your Work-Equivs to take my +night course?"</p> + +<p>"Because, when I've passed enough university hours I can take the +promotional test and become a full-fledged space-pilot."</p> + +<p>"And still you say there's no incentive?"</p> + +<p>"For myself, yes—but all of us ought to have the same kind of drive," +said Dirrul.</p> + +<p>"Such a condition never existed, Edward. Always there have been a few +to make the inventions and the discoveries, a few to create the new +dreams and frame the new ideas. Our people are no different. Incentive +comes from within the individual—it cannot be imposed from the +outside.</p> + +<p>"The poorest sort of incentive, therefore, is economic need. Our +system provides all our people with the basic necessities for everyday +living. Some few of us are content with these and never want anything +else. But the great majority work to earn Work-Equivs, which they can +spend as they please—on amusement, luxury, education or the races at +the Arena.</p> + +<p>"Whatever the goal, it is a personal goal, set by each individual for +himself. It's the only kind of incentive that makes any sense. Take +yourself as an example—you spend your share of Work-Equivs on +additional education because you want to become a space-pilot. By the +time you've earned the promotion you'll have lifted yourself to a +position of leadership.</p> + +<p>"As you are well aware the space-pilot is the politician—statesman is +a better word—of the Planetary Union. Through his ingenuity, his +skill with languages, his psychological understanding of diverse +racial groups, he holds our planets and peoples together, in one union +with a common social philosophy. Think how frustrating it would be if +you could never move toward your goal, Edward, because everything you +earned had to be spent on trivialities—food, clothing, a place to +live."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Eddie doubtfully, "I have an apartment given to me +but it has to be here in a worker's block. If our system provides for +us all alike, as you imply, how is it you have accommodations in the +Scientist's Center? Why should you be set apart? Or the poets and +writers? Or the space-pilots, for that matter?"</p> + +<p>"But there's no difference in the way we live, Edward. In general +people who do similar work and have similar interests are happier if +they share the same social environment. The average person, living in +a worker's block, would feel terribly out of place in a scientist's +center, just as I would develop terrific frustrations if I had to live +with the mystics or the religious orders."</p> + +<p>Dirrul deftly snatched the last piece of toast as the professor +reached for it. "I'll dial some for you if you like," he offered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Edward! I'm dieting, you see, and I like to think—well, as +I've told you so often in class, we all practise self-deception of a +sort. Usually it's harmless—and almost always we symbolize it in +words. For me the symbol is diet.</p> + +<p>"I set up a specialized definition and convince myself that I am +dieting if I never directly order fattening food. That gives me an +escape hatch. If food is offered to me or if it happens to—ah—to +fall into my hands, I can take it and still keep a clear conscience."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you practise more self-deception than you know, Dr. Kramer," +said Eddie. "For instance, all your fine words about the strength and +vitality of our new system—when I was a boy we licked the Vininese +Confederacy. We couldn't do it today."</p> + +<p>"That's a matter of opinion. We're at peace now and we'll remain so."</p> + +<p>"Only because we have the Nuclear Beams. And look how we've botched +that mess! Our scientists gave the process to the Vininese in order to +patch together a peace when we could have destroyed their civilization +completely."</p> + +<p>"And our own too—with the weight of such a crime on our group +conscience. There's one thing you still must learn, Edward—scientific +progress is made by the sharing of ideas, not the concealment of them. +We build the future upon the truths of the past and the present. If +some of those truths are hidden away we create falsely on utterly +false foundations."</p> + +<p>Dr. Kramer pulled a manila envelope from his pocket and laid it on the +table, pushing back his chair. "I must go, Edward; these are the notes +on my lecture. As I told you before, I really came here for something +else. I wanted to talk to you, to get to understand you better. I +think I've learned a great deal."</p> + +<p>The little professor was no longer smiling and the gentle touch of +banter was gone from his voice. Dirrul felt a creeping fear rise +within him. How much had he unconsciously revealed? How many of his +own beliefs had Dr. Kramer been able to read between the lines?</p> + +<p>Knowing them, would he guess Dirrul's connection with the Movement? +The professor's bland naiveté could be the mask of a police informer. +Dirrul shivered, remembering the sudden punishment that had overtaken +Glenna and Hurd.</p> + +<p>At the door Dr. Kramer paused and said, "I'm entertaining two or three +of the university faculty this evening, Edward. They've read some of +the papers you have written for my class. I'd like to have you meet +them. My apartment—eight-thirty."</p> + +<p>It was a command rather than an invitation. Dirrul accepted.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>As soon as the professor had gone his fear vanished. What he had said +to Dr. Kramer gave away no secrets and, in any case, he was crediting +the professor with a perception he did not have. Ever since first +joining the Movement, when he was still in school, Dirrul had taken +such pains to conceal his motives that it would have required a good +deal more than Dr. Kramer's clumsy prying to reveal them.</p> + +<p>He had deliberately patterned his attitudes and habits upon a +composite average, even to a mild and starry-eyed criticism of the +system which was more or less expected from the ambitious young men of +the Air-command.</p> + +<p>Dr. Kramer's ecstatic praise of the system was the typical emotional +reaction of the older generation. The professor may actually have been +convinced of the truth of his own fuzzy propaganda. It was that sort +of blind faith which still held the Planetary Union together.</p> + +<p>Before returning to the Air-Command base at noon, Dirrul sought out +Paul Sorgel and reported that Glenna and Hurd were safely on their way +to Vinin. Apologetically, he mentioned Dr. Kramer's invitation, +expecting to elicit Sorgel's scorn. Instead the Vininese agent was +enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful, Eddie!" he said. "Engineer it so they'll ask you back. +We've never got one of our people in with the older science crowd +before. Feel them out—we might pick up some converts. I won't need +you at the next few meetings of the Movement—they'll be largely +reorganizational, you know. I've been reading over Glenna's notes on +the Plan. With one or two modifications we should be able to carry it +out."</p> + +<p>At eight-thirty that evening Dirrul was admitted to Dr. Kramer's +apartment. He was neither overwhelmed by the professor's excessive +courtesy nor impressed by the other guests. They were from the faculty +of the Advanced Air University, elderly, respected and distinguished, +names known for a generation everywhere in the Planetary Union.</p> + +<p>To them, Edward Dirrul was merely a curiosity, a live specimen mounted +for analysis. He had criticised their system. They intended to wring +out the strands of his motivation, classify them, speculate and +theorize upon them—and perhaps, ultimately, do the whole thing up as +a monograph.</p> + +<p>Dirrul knew why Kramer had selected him for study rather than any of +the current crop of university students who held similar views. A +product of the educational philosophy of the Planetary Union, Dirrul +was thoroughly adjusted and decidedly aware of both his own abilities +and shortcomings.</p> + +<p>He was, first of all, gifted in the use of abstractions and +generalities. In rare combination with this flair he had superior +mechanical intelligence and a talent for expressive verbalization. He +dealt easily in the subtle skills of logic. If he set his mind to it, +he could erect absolute proofs of diametrically opposed truths and few +minds could detect the delicately concealed flaws in the reasoning.</p> + +<p>On the negative side of the scale was Dirrul's complete lack of +psycho-biological intelligence, or a sense of scientific semantics. +Neither to him seemed important. He missed them not at all and +resented the legal requirements that forced him to take Dr. Kramer's +course before he could qualify as a space-pilot.</p> + +<p>The papers he had written for the professor were beautifully +constructed patterns of logic, cast in well-turned phrases. They had +clarified the criticism which others put inarticulately. It was the +precision of his argument that disturbed Dr. Kramer and his faculty +friends.</p> + +<p>Dirrul was amused as the distinguished scientists skillfully +manipulated the conversation to create counter-arguments opposing his. +It was a game played in abstractions, a technique of which Dirrul was +an instinctive master. Apparently the scientists found some sort of +excitement in the game, since on succeeding evenings Dirrul was +swamped with invitations from other faculty members—so many, in fact, +that he had to neglect the serious work of the Movement. When he +complained to Paul Sorgel, the Vininese agent was delighted.</p> + +<p>"We can get along without you for awhile, Eddie," Sorgel said. "You're +doing something much more important. You have a real in with the +science crowd, and you've got them on the run because your arguments +make sense. Every doubt you sow in their minds now will make our work +just that much easier when the proper time comes."</p> + +<p>Occasionally Dirrul had an uneasy feeling that he was making no real +progress at all, that when he talked to the scientists he was a +dancing puppet dangling on invisible strings. It seemed impossible +that the scientists of the Ad-Air University could be so repeatedly +defeated by his logic. Slowly, however, he reasoned his way to an +explanation.</p> + +<p>The scientists, like the system itself, were in the last wild frenzy +of a decaying social order. They had lived so long in the atmosphere +of relative truths, they had so carefully schooled themselves to avoid +all absolutes, that they were unable to elude the simplest processes +of logic. Their very efforts to be objective made them too honest to +reject a conclusion once Dirrul had demonstrated the careful structure +that seemed to support it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A month passed. Dirrul felt divorced from the Movement, existing in +suspended animation in a cloud of wordy unreality. Then abruptly the +slow-moving dream ended. Late one night Paul Sorgel slipped into +Dirrul's apartment and announced in an emotionless whisper, "The +Plan's ready. You'll have to carry the details to Vinin. We can't use +the teleray—the Union monitors might pick up the message and decode +it."</p> + +<p>"Naturally our Vininese Headquarters will want to know, Paul," said +Eddie, "but can't that wait? We'll need every man here when we—"</p> + +<p>Sorgel interrupted him. "I've made one or two changes in Glenna's +original plan. It was too impractical. A handful of men can't take +over half a galaxy."</p> + +<p>"Glenna and Hurd weren't after the entire Planetary Union, +Paul—that's out of the question. We meant to liberate Agron first. +The capital is here and for awhile the government would be disrupted. +When the people on the other planets saw how much better our social +organization had become, modeled on the Vininese system, they would +stage their own revolutions just like ourselves."</p> + +<p>Sorgel laughed scornfully. "And in the meantime, of course, none of +them would think of attacking you and throwing your people out?"</p> + +<p>"Not if we seized the Nuclear Beam Transmitters," said Dirrul, "no +space-fleet could come near us then."</p> + +<p>"Eddie, you've lived in Agron too long. You're not thinking straight +when you try to build the Plan around a single weapon."</p> + +<p>"Why not, Paul? It's a perfect defense. In less than thirty seconds +the Beam Transmitters can charge the entire stratospheric envelope of +Agron. Nothing can move through it without disintegrating, yet life on +the surface of the planet would go on quite normally because the +atmosphere serves as an insulation."</p> + +<p>"Technically it's a change in the form of energy, not a +disintegration," Sorgel reminded him. "The beamed electrons unite with +the atoms of visible material substances and alter them. I quite +understand the process, Eddie—Vinin has the Beam too, you know."</p> + +<p>"Because the Agronian scientists gave you the specifications!"</p> + +<p>"That always has rankled, hasn't it?" said Sorgel.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Dirrul admitted. "If the Vininese scientists had discovered the +Beam-reaction first they would have conquered the galaxy."</p> + +<p>"Conquer is a nasty word, Eddie," Sorgel said softly. "Vinin makes no +conquests. Let's put it differently and say we would have used the +Beam to bring peace to the galaxy instead of splitting it in two as it +is now."</p> + +<p>"Glenna's Plan can change all that, at least here on Agron."</p> + +<p>"Face the facts, Eddie! A few conscientious people with ideals can't +take over a planet. The Movement has its crews trained to capture the +Beam Transmitters. You'll isolate Agron and seize the government +offices simultaneously. What happens then?"</p> + +<p>"Our people will rise and join us," said Eddie. "We'll create a new +government modeled on Vinin's and we'll have young leaders instead of +murky thinkers like Dr. Kramer."</p> + +<p>"That's effective propaganda for speechmaking, but—"</p> + +<p>"Glenna pounded away at it too, Paul," said Eddie. "It was the most +telling line in winning our new crop of recruits."</p> + +<p>"Which is precisely why the police disposed of her. But it won't work. +The people won't rise. A mob is lethargic, too willing to keep things +as they are. Here on Agron you've been coddled too long with luxuries +and easy living. You have to prod the mob awake with a shock-force, a +force coming from the outside."</p> + +<p>"How, Paul? We haven't enough people in the Movement to put on any +real show of strength. We can't even get outside."</p> + +<p>"Now you understand the changes I've made in Glenna's Plan. You people +in the Movement will seize the Beam Transmitters as originally +planned. Then you'll simply hold them and keep them decommissioned +long enough for a Vininese space-fleet to land. We'll set up your new +government for you."</p> + +<p>"And the rest of the Planetary Union will go to war!"</p> + +<p>"It hardly matters," said Paul. "Once we're here the Beams will +protect us against counterattack and every planet in the Vininese +Confederacy has the same defense. One by one we can liberate the +planets of the Union in the same way. But the timing is vital, of +course—that's why you have to go to Vinin."</p> + +<p>"I had a vacation leave only three months ago. I can't get tourist +passage now without—"</p> + +<p>"I've considered that. You'll have to have your own space-ship."</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute, Paul! It's one thing to borrow a surface jet but a +space-cruiser...!"</p> + +<p>"A cruiser, yes—not an old cargo ship. And you can handle that +without a crew."</p> + +<p>"It can't be done, Paul." Dirrul held his Glo-Wave nervously to the +end of a cigarette. "Besides, I want to think this through carefully +before I make up my mind."</p> + +<p>"A merchant ship made a crash landing at Barney's emergency field +yesterday," said Paul. "The damage was slight, but the pilot—unfortunately +the pilot is dead." Sorgel smiled enigmatically. "Barney's one of our best +men. He's been on the lookout for a chance like this for weeks.</p> + +<p>"You'll leave tonight. Avoid the regular space lanes. I'm guessing +you'll be on Vinin in a hundred days at the outside. On the fiftieth +day after that—exactly one hundred and fifty days from now—our +Vininese space-fleet must make a landing on Agron."</p> + +<p>"I'll be missed, Paul—they'll make inquiries."</p> + +<p>"And get no satisfactory answers."</p> + +<p>Pacing the floor, Dirrul asked tensely, "Does everyone in the Movement +know about this?"</p> + +<p>"The vote was made unanimously yesterday."</p> + +<p>"One of the others must have a vacation leave coming up. Send him. +We're not at war with Vinin. He could take one of the regular space +excursions."</p> + +<p>"I can't send a message in writing. It would be picked up by the +customs police. And you're the only one who can carry it verbally, +Eddie. You know the whole background because you worked with Glenna +and Hurd. You've been in the Movement longer than any of the others."</p> + +<p>"Why not go yourself, Paul?"</p> + +<p>"I can do more for the liberation if I stay here."</p> + +<p>"I wish I'd been at the meeting yesterday when the vote was taken. I'd +have liked to discuss it with the others before—"</p> + +<p>"Why so many questions, Eddie? Why so many doubts all of a sudden?" +Sorgel stood and faced Dirrul, holding his shoulders in a grip that +hurt. "Are you trying to back out? Maybe it wasn't a good thing to let +you play around with the science boys after all. Be honest with me, +Eddie. If you're not sure where you stand, say so. There's no room in +the Movement for traitors."</p> + +<p>When Dirrul said nothing Sorgel added in a voice that rang with +fervor, "You're the only man in the Movement who has had any training +as a space-pilot. It depends on you now—everything you've ever +dreamed of, everything Glenna and Hurd wanted. Can you forget what the +Agronian police did to Glenna? Is your courage any less than hers?" +Again Sorgel paused but still Dirrul said nothing. "The future of your +world depends on you, Eddie—don't let it down."</p> + +<p>"I'll go," Dirrul whispered.</p> + +<p>As Eddie made up his mind his internal tension relaxed and he was +filled with a sense of well-being. When he thought about it he +couldn't understand why he had hesitated—unless perhaps what Sorgel +suggested was true—that his contact with the Ad-Air faculty had +blunted and nearly perverted his established sense of values.</p> + +<p>An hour later Dirrul boarded the battered antiquated space cargo +carrier on the launching rack at Barney's emergency field. At the last +minute Sorgel pressed a curious disk into his hand. Made of a very +light metal and suspended from a short chain it was two inches in +diameter and covered with a complex grid design.</p> + +<p>"Put it around your neck before you land, Eddie. Don't remove under +any circumstances until you report. Give it to the Chief then. He'll +know I sent you because it's my own identification activator." Sorgel +clasped Dirrul's hand warmly. "When you land on Vinin take the North +Field below the capital. It's the HQ operational center. Use Wave-code +three-seven-three and they'll know you're friendly."</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p>After the launching space-flight was normally a monotonous routine. +The course was charted by automatic navigators and the vast pattern of +interlocking machinery and safety devices was electronically +controlled by robot relays from the pilot master-panel. The chief +function of a trained space-pilot, aside from his services as a +diplomat, was to handle emergency situations for which automatic +responses could not be built into the machinery.</p> + +<p>Dirrul, however, could not depend a great deal upon the robot devices. +He had to avoid the well-traveled and well-charted commercial +space-lanes. He had to be constantly on the alert for the telltale +white of a police cruiser. A cargo carrier was the slowest ship in the +universe—Dirrul could outrun nothing, not even a playboy's sport +jalopy, and inspection by the customs police would have been +disastrous.</p> + +<p>He followed a roundabout route, keeping as far from inhabited planets +as he could, and he made good time. In ninety-five days he had reached +the mythical border in space, which divided the territory of the +Planetary Union and the Vininese Confederacy.</p> + +<p>He was almost at midpoint in the galaxy. On the glazed screen of his +space-map the mirrored pinpricks of sun systems glittered like +microscopic gems scattered over the curve of a gigantic black saucer. +Dirrul had never been so far from Agron. He felt a stifling sense of +insignificance.</p> + +<p>The meaning of time as he understood it was somehow overwhelmed by the +immensity of space. Now and yesterday, today and tomorrow, became a +single unity. Dirrul had a new sense of the past in terms of the +present. His mind groped for word symbols that he understood which +could crystalize the shadowy new concept filling his mind.</p> + +<p>New understanding seemed to arise from the space-map. Somewhere among +the glowing points of light was the Place of the Beginning, a single +planet called Earth. In the far-distant past Earthmen had made +themselves rational beings. But for centuries thereafter they had made +no further progress, apparently appalled by the audacity of such +presumptive evolution. They had fought through a long primitive period +of violence, erecting system on system and philosophy upon philosophy +to conceal, destroy and wipe out their own biological machinery.</p> + +<p>Then out of a final orgy of death and terror the Earthmen had grasped +the meaning and the responsibility of the Rational Potential. They had +understood the reality of being.</p> + +<p>Within a century after that they had conquered space. They had found +peoples like themselves occasionally—but more often races that had +followed different biological adaptations to different environments. +Wherever there seemed to be a spark of primitive rationality the +Earthmen had stayed and patiently taught the Rational Potential of +being, which they had learned for themselves only after such +bloodshed.</p> + +<p>The galaxy was theirs, in a sense, for it thought in the patterns of +Earthmen, although long ago their direct influence had waned. They +were a legend and an ideal, lost in the vastness of space, yet bound +fast into the cultures of all peoples.</p> + +<p>Yet somewhere the Earthmen must have failed, somewhere there must have +been a flaw in their teaching. Fifty years earlier, as the Agronians +measured time, the galaxy had been torn apart by war. The Agronians +had led one group of planets, the Vininese another. Planet after +planet was seared by deadly new weapons—world after world died in the +orange flame of gaudy atomic disintegration. Slowly the power of Vinin +crept across the sky until the Vininese ruled half the galaxy.</p> + +<p>Their first defeat had come unexpectedly. Their great space-armada +swung in on Agron, while the people crowded in terror in their flimsy +raid shelters. But the Vininese ships had vanished high in the air. +Not even debris had fallen on the planet.</p> + +<p>It was the first use of the Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had been a schoolboy +when the Agronian scientists announced their discovery. He remembered +the exciting thrill of pride, recalled how he and his schoolmates had +dreamed of destroying the Vininese with the new weapon.</p> + +<p>He remembered too the galling bitterness he had felt when the +scientists announced that they had made peace instead.</p> + +<p>They had had sound reasons, of course. They said the Beams had a +limited value. They could be used only defensively to girdle a single +planet in the stratospheric level of its atmosphere. Elsewhere they +were harmless. To compound the spectacular timidity, the scientists +had given away the secret to all comers, including the Vininese. They +had an argument for that particular idiocy too—if each planet could +protect itself so easily from all external attack its people could +freely decide for themselves their galactic allegiance or maintain +isolated independence.</p> + +<p>The Planetary Union had been formed and members of the Vininese +Confederacy invited to join it. Not a people anywhere in the +Confederacy made even tentative exploration of the offer while five +sun systems of the Union later joined the Vininese. That was the fact +that had ultimately prodded Dirrul into joining the Movement.</p> + +<p>Later, when he read the pamphlets brought from Vinin, he had clarified +his purposes. On the one hand lay the waste, the confusion, the +uncertainty of Agron. Scientists who talked forever of hypotheses and +were afraid to stand firm for any absolute truths—moralists who +qualified even the simplest standards of right and wrong—philosophers +who glorified a condition of eternal chaos which they called an open +mind.</p> + +<p>On the other hand lay the clean efficiency of Vinin. Scientific +certainty, and the progress that stemmed from it—the Space-dragon +instead of the Safe-sweet candy, a clear social organization in which +the individual was directed by established and inflexible principles.</p> + +<p>The whole of it was history as Dirrul had learned it, the chronology +of the past. As he looked on the star map of the galaxy, at midpoint +between the two great unions of planets, the meaning of the past began +to change. The chronology fell into a new perspective.</p> + +<p>Against the vast expanse of space time twisted into a new +relationship. Time and space began to equate with an exciting +synonymity. History was not the past, dead and numbered—history was +now. All things, all space, all time, were forever fixed at the +instant of now.</p> + +<p>In Dirrul's mind a tumult of facts trembled on the verge of a +startling new order—the atomic structure of all energy and the black +saucer of the galaxy. The violent spasms the Earthmen had suffered +before they found the Rational Potential and the devastation of the +Galactic War.</p> + +<p>But before he could assess such new values and verbalize the new +generalization the antiquated warning system of his ship twanged +tinnily. On the control panel screen he saw the trim outline of a +white Agronian police ship. A moment later the voice came over the +speaker, ordering him to state his permit registry and his +destination.</p> + +<p>Dragged so suddenly back to reality, Dirrul reacted in panic. It was a +routine inquiry. He might have bluffed his way clear. Instead he put +the cargo ship at top speed toward Vinin and watched helplessly while +the patrol cruiser closed relentlessly in.</p> + +<p>"Stand for search!" the voice commanded.</p> + +<p>When he did nothing the police shot a warning rocket over his bow. A +second shot struck the rear of the cargo ship and tore away a section +of landing gear. Swearing, Dirrul tried to maneuver out of range, and +to a certain extent he was successful. But piloting skill could not +make up for the cumbersome bulk of his unarmed ship. Two more blasts +hit him, collapsing the forward compartment and knocking out one power +tube.</p> + +<p>At the point of triumph, however, the police patrol turned away and +left Dirrul limping alone in space. For a moment he was puzzled. In +another ten minutes they could have boarded the cargo carrier and made +him prisoner. But he understood when he glanced again at the star +map—the Agronian police had pursued him far into Vininese territory. +If Vininese patrols had found them there it might have created an +unpleasant intergalactic incident.</p> + +<p>Dirrul made a quick survey of the damage. He had only one power tube +intact—beyond that, the cargo carrier was wrecked and he had on board +nothing with which to make repairs. He could move ahead only at +quarter-speed.</p> + +<p>Sorgel had put a time limit of one hundred days on the trip to Vinin. +Headquarters had to know by then of the Plan on Agron. Dirrul had five +days left and as the hours ran out he was still grinding slowly toward +the outer atmosphere of Vinin. Quite aware that proper security +demanded the message be delivered in person, Dirrul nonetheless faced +the alternative of losing everything if he waited.</p> + +<p>Logically weighing all factors, he concluded he would not be risking +too much, considering the stakes, if he used the teleray. Agron +monitors could pick it up, of course, and no doubt the outpost +stations were instructed to record all messages emanating from within +the territory of Vinin. But Dirrul knew the Air-Command.</p> + +<p>They wallowed in the same luxury and comfort enjoyed by the rest of +the Planetary Union. Outposts personnel, so far from the capital, +would be even less likely to take their duties seriously than Dirrul's +own unit.</p> + +<p>He tried to make the information enigmatic to the curious and at least +suggestive to the Vininese. He used the landing Wave-code 373. The +small red light on the control panel glowed and he knew he had +established contact. In carefully chosen Vininese he spoke into the +teleray mouthpiece.</p> + +<p>"Sorgel requires help for Glenna-Hurd Plan. Exactly fifty days, their +time."</p> + +<p>He repeated the message. As an afterthought he gave his own position +and asked for emergency repair assistance. The whole meaning hinged +upon the names of Glenna and Hurd. However, since they had been taken +to Vinin, they should already have outlined the Plan to the Vininese +command. If there were any doubts Headquarters could teleray for +clarification. When his speaker remained silent Dirrul assumed he had +been understood.</p> + +<p>He began to feel the pull of Vininese gravity, found himself in +trouble with his ship. He tried to keep the disabled cargo carrier +relatively stationary, so that the Vininese repair ships could locate +him. With only one power tube, however, maneuver was impossible. The +battered ship plunged out of control toward the planet.</p> + +<p>For an hour Dirrul fought with all the skill he knew. A thousand feet +above the surface he managed to force the ship to level off +temporarily. He had no time to seek a proper landing area and in any +case his gear had been shot away.</p> + +<p>There was a wide flat plain directly below him, in the distance the +towering mass of a large city silhouetted against a range of +mountains. Dirrul headed his ship for the open fields, setting the +safety devices for a crash landing.</p> + +<p>He hung around his neck the identification disk Sorgel had given him, +tucking it beneath his tunic. If he were hurt in the landing, a +Vininese might find him, and the disk would indicate that he was +important enough to be taken to the Headquarters Command. If his +teleray hadn't been understood there might still be a chance for him +to make his report in person.</p> + +<p>The ship crashed against the hard ground. Dirrul felt a wrenching pain +as the automatic safety arms pinioned him fast to cushion the fall, +before hurling him free of the blazing control room. After that he +lost consciousness.</p> + + +<h2>V</h2> + +<p>When Dirrul opened his eyes it was after dark but the triple moons of +Vinin were full and the landscape glowed with a yellowish light. He +had fallen into a ditch which ran beside a narrow, green-paved road. +In the distance, hidden in a dense copse of blue tree-like +vegetation, he saw the fragments of his wrecked ship. The purple grass +of Vinin spread richly all around him, damp and warm. At the bottom of +the ditch a reddish trickle of liquid washed over his feet.</p> + +<p>His throat ached with thirst. His tongue clung like sand to the roof +of his mouth. He knew that an Agronian could live in the Vininese +atmosphere but he was uncertain whether his body could assimilate the +native liquids. Yet to ease the torture he dipped his hand into the +red fluid and rubbed a few drops over his lips. The sting of salt +increased his torment.</p> + +<p>His body shuddered with pain as he pulled himself to his feet. He +crept a few feet along the green highway, and slowly his will mastered +his strength so that he could walk erect. He began to orient himself a +little. On the horizon he saw the skyline of the city he had observed +from the air and he knew he was following the road in the right +direction.</p> + +<p>But the distance was greater than he had estimated. He walked for an +hour and the city still seemed no closer. Nor had he seen any sign of +habitation where he might go for help, nothing except the towering +endless yellow stone wall which he had been following for more than +half an hour. There was neither gate nor break in the stone. Atop the +wall regularly spaced brackets held three naked wires in place.</p> + +<p>The wall probably guarded the estate of a Vininese official, he +decided. In that case the wires were either a warning device or a +charged trap against thieves. Dirrul was puzzled by the obvious +deduction. Such things were necessary on Agron to protect important +installations like the Beam Transmitters—but he had hardly expected +there would be a need for them on Vinin. Yet when he considered it +objectively, why not? Every system of society, no matter how ideal, +would produce inevitable malcontents—there were fools among the +Vininese, as there were among other peoples.</p> + +<p>Dirrul saw a towering gate in the wall and ran ahead eagerly, only to +fall in disappointment against the thick metal grille. The gate was +locked by a concealed device he could not locate. At a considerable +distance inside the wall was a second, higher than the first. Dirrul +saw a faint light at the inner gate and assumed there was a guard of +some sort stationed there. He tried with all his strength to cry out +for help but his throat was dust-dry. He could utter only a faint +whisper.</p> + +<p>When he tried to go on he was overcome with exhaustion. He staggered a +few feet beyond the gate and collapsed into the ditch. He lay face +down in the warm purple grass, his swollen tongue hanging limply from +his mouth. Imperceptibly the thirst began to diminish. After a +moment's speculation Dirrul understood why and crushed a handful of +the purple grass against his lips. It was warm and sweet—a comforting +liquid began to flow down his throat. He plunged his head luxuriously +into a thick mass of the weed, breathing deeply the sweet odor of the +crushed blades.</p> + +<p>A silent grey vehicle darted along the green road and jerked to a stop +in front of the gate. It came so quickly Dirrul had no time to call +out. The Vininese driver stood up and bawled orders at the inner gate. +A faint voice replied. The driver shouted again. The gate swung open +and the vehicle moved inside.</p> + +<p>Bewildered, Dirrul sat up, his head reeling. He understood a little +Vininese, not enough to translate exactly what had been said but +enough to make out a tantalizing half-meaning. The driver was +searching all the work camps, he had said, for the Agronian girl, +Glenna. He wanted to check something or other to see if she were here.</p> + +<p>Work camp? Dirrul decided he must have got the word wrong. Glenna and +Hurd might still be in hospitals but if they had recovered they would +be honored citizens of Vinin. Still—what sort of hospital would have +both double walls and alarm wires?</p> + +<p>Only an asylum for hopeless mental cases! The realization made Dirrul +cold with a terrible fear. Glenna—hopelessly insane!</p> + +<p>To save the Movement it was vital for Dirrul to make his report +immediately. What help could the Vininese get from a madwoman? He +sprang up and ran dizzily to the gate. Before he could shout for the +guard shadowy figures rose up around him, silently closing great hairy +hands over his mouth and dragging him back across the road.</p> + +<p>Tied and gagged Dirrul watched while the black-robed creatures worked +stealthily at the central bars of the gate with tiny blue-flaming +torches. Beneath their flowing capes they were beings like himself, +which indicated that they were either Agronian or Vininese, for by the +perverse chance of biological adaptation the people of the two planets +were so structurally similar that even intermarriage was possible. One +by one they cut out the bars until the span in the gate was wide +enough for them to work their way through.</p> + +<p>For a moment the band stood in the road, apparently talking. At least +their lips moved and their hands fluttered expressively but Dirrul +heard no sound. Reaching a decision they went through the gate in +single file, carrying long vicious weapons with them. Two of the +black-caped men came and stood guard on either side of Dirrul.</p> + +<p>Whatever these vandals were doing they were working in stealth and +fear and Dirrul realized their aim must be illegal. He fought to break +free of his bonds so that he might warn the loyal Vininese garrison. +The two guards shoved him back roughly. One of them grabbed Dirrul's +tunic in a claw grip and the cloth tore open, revealing Sorgel's +identification disk.</p> + +<p>Both guards bent over him, fingering the disk, talking soundlessly +with their facile fingers. Suddenly they jerked the disk off, snapping +the chain. At the same moment a rolling explosion from within the +wall shook the earth.</p> + +<p>Dirrul heard a great noise and a terrifying fear filled his mind. It +was a steady undiminishing fear that gripped every muscle of his body. +His throat was ice-cold. His heart pounded and gasped for breath. +Every nerve-end in his body quivered and his imagination was swamped +with a flood of shattering ephemeral horrors.</p> + +<p>Nothing could shake off the terror. Dirrul's skill with reason and +logic failed him. It was impossible to organize his thinking to combat +the sensory shock waves disrupting his thoughts. Logical patterns made +no sense. The very process of trying to build meaning into them—the +process of thinking itself—left him weak and trembling.</p> + +<p>The guards watched his terror for a moment, watched while he clung +close to the ground, trying to dig his fingers into it. Then one of +them laughed—a piercing discordant shriek, shrilling louder than the +din behind the wall. The second man, snarling viciously, kicked Dirrul +in the ribs.</p> + +<p>For Dirrul the blaze of pain was almost a relief. As his body +responded to it on a level of instinct, the chattering terror in his +mind diminished. A second blow on the head sent him reeling close to +the brink of unconsciousness. His perceptive reactions went slightly +out of focus.</p> + +<p>In a wavering mist he saw the black figures emerge from the gate, +dragging a dozen or more captives with them. A second explosion rocked +the earth and flames leaped high behind the yellow wall. In the glare +Dirrul recognized Glenna, struggling frantically in the arms of her +masked captor.</p> + +<p>Dirrul's memory after that was a vague patchwork of unrelated +episodes. He saw huge saddled reptilian bipeds dragged out of the +concealing brush. The captives were bound in the saddles and the +black-robed figures mounted behind them. Later two of the men pulled +Dirrul up and tied him across a saddle too.</p> + +<p>At a sickening gallop the caravan moved away from the green highway, +striking out over the purple plain. For a while Dirrul lost rational +control of sensation. He felt but without understanding. His brain +pulsed in a continuous terror that seemed to resolve itself into +sound—a continuous high-pitched scream coming from within his own +mind. His body throbbed with pain and nausea wrenched emptily at the +muscles of his stomach. But he could not sort out the feelings, +classify them or adjust to them.</p> + +<p>At the edge of the plain the caravan turned up a steep rocky trail +which led into the ragged range of mountains banked behind the +Vininese city. They came to a stop in a stony ravine, concealed +beneath a tangle of gigantic purple-leafed vines.</p> + +<p>Dirrul's captors dismounted and removed their black cloaks, hiding +them among the rocks. Underneath they wore the warm gray skintight +workers' clothing of Vinin. The majority left their animals tethered +to the roots of the vine and began the steep descent on foot to the +city. Only three remained behind to guard the prisoners.</p> + +<p>They built a small fire and prepared food, serving the hot sweet +chunks of white meat in large wicker baskets. As soon as Dirrul +discovered that he could stomach the food he wolfed his share +hungrily. The guards brought him more. He felt better. Except for the +sing-song ringing in his head he might have been able to think clearly +enough to evaluate his own position.</p> + +<p>But that could be done later. He was overcome by an immense +drowsiness. He relaxed and slept.</p> + + +<h2>VI</h2> + +<p>A shrill scream woke him with a start of horror. His captors had taken +him from his saddle and propped him against a mound of rocks, along +with the other prisoners. His muscles were numb and dead, so limp it +was almost impossible for him to turn his head. Faintly the whirring +terror whispered in his mind.</p> + +<p>Dirrul's eyes focused slowly on the clearing. One of the prisoners had +been carried there, close to the fire. It was Glenna. Two of her +captors held her while the third bent over her head, probing her ear +with a sharp instrument. His arm moved. Glenna screamed and fainted. +For a moment Dirrul saw the side of her face smeared with a spreading +stain of blood. Then nausea swept over him. When he opened his eyes +again the three men were working over another prisoner at the fire.</p> + +<p>Vaguely Dirrul knew he had to escape. He forgot the Movement—he +thought of nothing any loftier than his own personal survival. The +idea was elemental, built upon the simplest sort of observation and +hypothesis.</p> + +<p>Yet it came slowly and painfully, as if he had just tried to +understand after one reading the Cranmor-Frasher Theory of Diminishing +Corelatives. As he verbalized the conclusion two things happened—the +drug-like languor in his muscles began to disperse and the shrilling +note of terror burst up loud in his mind once more.</p> + +<p>Two of the men brought their last victim back from the fire and laid +his body on the stones close to Dirrul. Dirrul feigned sleep when they +stood over him. One of them prodded him with the tip of a dusty +boot—then they both laughed.</p> + +<p>They went back to the fire and talked soundlessly to their companions, +holding up the identification disk which had been ripped from Dirrul's +neck hours before. That amused them briefly, until one of the three +snatched the disk and hurled it toward the mouth of the ravine in +violent anger.</p> + +<p>The three men pulled thick white skins together near the fire and +crept into them. Dirrul waited until he was sure they slept. It was +the only chance he would have to escape, but when he tried to creep +away his hands collapsed from sheer terror. The crying fear in his +mind was so loud his head seemed to vibrate physically with the +sound.</p> + +<p>Thought was impossible. Judgment and decision were impossible. If he +tried to consider even a problem as simple as the safest means of +passing the dying fire—reason failed him. He could weigh nothing +critically—he could not consider probable courses of rational action.</p> + +<p>Nonetheless he inched forward. It took all the courage and stamina he +possessed. Gradually a strange and foggy understanding formed in his +brain. The terror seemed to die if he planned nothing, merely +responding without thought to the instinctive urge to escape. Let +instinct do the trick then.</p> + +<p>Detached from the control panel of his cerebral cortex his body +mechanism functioned perfectly. It was like a space-ship smoothly +piloted by its automatic navigators. Dirrul gave himself over to his +own built-in stimulus-response relays and the screeching fear +shriveled and died.</p> + +<p>Calm and unhurried he walked past the fire and the sleeping men. As +calmly he searched the mouth of the ravine for Sorgel's disk. When he +found it he stuffed it into the pocket of his tunic and strode +confidently along the trail that led down from the hills.</p> + +<p>It was dawn. In the pink morning light he could see the Vininese city +at his feet, neat, clean, well-blocked streets and towering buildings +of black stone. On the outskirts were the circular space-fields and +the long low flat-roofed interplanetary freight depots. Farther away, +dotting the countryside at regular intervals, were curious +block-shaped windowless structures surrounded by double walls.</p> + +<p>Dirrul had never seen anything like them before but, through a process +of judicial elimination, he decided they must be the Vininese Beam +Transmitters. The defense of Vinin was remarkably thorough, far +surpassing anything of a similar nature on Agron.</p> + +<p>It came to him with something of a shock that he was thinking +rationally once more. His mind was completely clear. He felt ashamed +of the foolish, groundless terror that had unnerved him in the ravine. +He tried to understand what had happened to him but it was beyond +analysis. In retrospect he realized that the danger had been less than +what he faced on any normal day in the Air-Command emergency +maintenance service.</p> + +<p>The only logical explanation was the food they had given him. It must +have been heavily drugged with a new poison known to the Vininese. +Dirrul was tempted to go back and rescue Glenna, if she were still +alive after the torture to which she had been subjected. But he knew +it was more important for him to contact Vininese Headquarters first. +He had a message to deliver. Glenna herself would have wanted that.</p> + +<p>In two hours Dirrul was on the plain again. All the suffering of the +past few hours was gone. The plentiful purple grass had quenched his +thirst and surprisingly eased his hunger as well. He felt keenly alert +and alive. The sun was warm, the air was balmy. He was on Vinin.</p> + +<p>Spiritually he had come home, to the thing he believed in. Not many +men had such opportunity to realize their dreams of perfection. To cap +the triumph Dirrul knew it might still be possible to make his report +and save the Movement on Agron.</p> + +<p>From the top of a purple-swathed knoll he looked down across a +twisting red stream toward the suburbs of the city. Magnificent +black-stone villas, surrounded by stylized gardens, were on both sides +of the green highway.</p> + +<p>Further on, close to the city, were the crowded workers' quarters, +behind them, hidden in a faint mist, the rectangular masses of public +buildings reaching up toward the stars. This was as Paul Sorgel had so +often described it. Such grandeur could only belong to the capital +city of the Vininese Confederacy.</p> + +<p>Under the brow of the knoll Dirrul saw one of the stone block +buildings within its protective double walls. A huge trumpet-like +transmitter was exposed at the top of the structure. In some ways it +resembled the Beam Transmitters on Agron but the differences were so +striking Dirrul knew it was a totally new device—possibly a more +efficient variation invented by the Vininese. The faint hum of +machinery and the regular movement of the sending tube indicated that +the machine was running—but for what purpose Dirrul could only guess.</p> + +<p>The yard between the two walls was patrolled by a smartly disciplined +score of Vininese. Dirrul considered going to them to ask for +transportation to the city but changed his mind. It was very possible +that the installation was secret. The guards might have had +instructions to dispose immediately of any intruder. On the whole it +seemed wiser to go a little farther to one of the walled villas.</p> + +<p>Dirrul walked half a thousand feet along the green highway and turned +up the drive leading toward one of the sprawling mansions. As he +passed the portals of the open gate an alarm bell clanged—seconds +later five Vininese infantry surrounded him, prodding him into the +house with their gleaming weapons. In precise Vininese, carefully +enunciated, Dirrul tried to explain what he wanted—but the guards +made no reply, merely staring at him with cold glazed eyes, +comprehending nothing.</p> + +<p>They threw him roughly into a dark room, where a slim Vininese waited +in a lounge chair. As Dirrul's eyes grew accustomed to the faint light +he saw that the Vininese held a snub-nosed rocket-pistol.</p> + +<p>"Your permit?" the Vininese asked languidly.</p> + +<p>"Yesterday I came here from—"</p> + +<p>"Then you have no permit. I must shoot you, of course."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I have a message from Agron! You must take me to Headquarters!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're a tourist. But this is a prohibited area. From the dust +on your tunic, I take it you have done a great deal of walking. A +pity, my friend—naturally you've seen the transmitters."</p> + +<p>"We have them on Agron but it is of no importance."</p> + +<p>The Vininese threw back his head and laughed, "Oh, no—of no +importance—you have seen nothing!"</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you," Dirrul said desperately. "My Vininese is +very poor. But you must help me. I bring news of the Movement on Agron +and time is short." Anxiously Dirrul plunged into his story, tripping +repeatedly over the involved syntax of Vinin to his host's obvious +amusement.</p> + +<p>Eventually, however, he made his point, for the tall Vininese said, +"Then you must be the agent who sent the teleray report. We've been +looking for you, sir. We feared, after you crashed, that you might +have been taken by the vagabonds." Still holding Dirrul centered in +the gunsight the Vininese picked up a portable teleray and asked for +Headquarters.</p> + +<p>While he waited he added, "You must forgive this reception, my friend +from Agron. We have been having so much trouble with the vagabonds +lately we must all go armed. Here in the transmission area we must be +particularly alert."</p> + +<p>His tone was warm but the gun never wavered. When he made his +connection he spoke rapidly into the mouthpiece, too rapidly for +Dirrul to work out an accurate translation. It seemed, however, that +the conversation was centered around the transmitters rather than the +report Dirrul had to make. The Vininese finished the dialogue and +smiled engagingly at Dirrul.</p> + +<p>"I am to take you to the capital, my friend," he said. "They are +preparing a reception for you. You are a hero of Vinin, to have braved +so much for the cause."</p> + +<p>The Vininese came forward suddenly and pulled aside the torn cloth at +the throat of Dirrul's tunic.</p> + +<p>"But you—you must have a disk!" The Vininese was suddenly frightened. +"There is no tourist stamp on your arm. I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Paul Sorgel loaned me his when I left Agron." Dirrul felt in his +tunic pocket. "He said I was to give it to the Chief when I made my +report but if you must see it now—"</p> + +<p>"No, no—by all means, keep it." The tall man's voice was pleasant +again. "I was simply afraid that someone might have come who—but it +is nothing. I am weary from all this vigilance against the vagabonds. +It is hard to think realistically."</p> + +<p>"I was surprised to see so much lawlessness on Vinin."</p> + +<p>"Then you're very naive, my friend. There's an element like that among +all people, although I must admit ours here have suddenly become +excessively active. Their attacks are so systematic and so +well-organized! Hardly a night passes without trouble at a work camp +or a transmitter station.</p> + +<p>"Your transmitters are different from ours. Have you developed an +improvement in technique?"</p> + +<p>"They are, curious, aren't they? You must ask the Chief to tell you +all about them." The Vininese chuckled with delight. "I wouldn't want +to spoil his surprise by letting you in on the secret first."</p> + + +<h2>VII</h2> + +<p>The Vininese drove Dirrul to the city in a heavily armed surface car. +Two of the infantrymen sat behind them, their rocket guns ready on +their knees. It was testimony to the efficiency and organization of +Vinin that such a finished reception could be prepared on such short +notice. Dirrul's first intimation of the scope of the ceremony came +when they stopped at a school to be cheered by the pupils.</p> + +<p>Rank upon rank of boys and girls lined up smartly behind the high wire +fence. They ranged in ages from tots, barely able to stand, to young +people in late adolescence. Except for the round metal disks, which +all of them wore, they were completely naked.</p> + +<p>"Clothing breeds such false modesty and so many foolish frustrations," +Dirrul's host explained. "On Vinin every child is reared in completely +objective equality. As soon as we take them from their parents—about +the time when they're first learning to walk—we give them +identification disks. Before that, when they're in the instinct +period, the disks aren't necessary.</p> + +<p>"After their basic education we classify them. The leader-class is +issued permanent disks and the others give theirs up. The adjustment +is something very severe but on the whole the casualties are light." +Suddenly the Vininese seized Dirrul's hand and looked into his eyes. +"I trust you follow me, my friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Dirrul answered. Reason led him to a conclusion as he looked at +the massed children, a conclusion he could not bring himself to face. +He felt a new kind of fear, as cold as the depths of space and as +devoid of emotion. Instead of trusting to his own logic Dirrul +struggled to find a flaw in it—for a man cannot easily watch his +dream turn to dust in his hands.</p> + +<p>They drove on into the city. Rows of men and women in working clothes +lined the streets, cheering wildly in unison. Crossed Vininese flags +were draped between the buildings and brave-colored streamers danced +in the wind.</p> + +<p>"A reception is good for them," the Vininese said. "We need heroes +occasionally. It's fortunate you came when you did. The vagabonds have +had a disturbing effect on morale and it's impossible to suppress the +news entirely."</p> + +<p>The vehicle stopped before the towering government building. Dirrul +was led up a flight of stone steps to a wide porch overlooking the +mass of cheering upturned faces in the public square. He stood +motionless while speeches were made and gay ribbon was draped around +his neck. The air shook with bright explosions—a huge flag was +unfurled over the porch—band music began to blare and a tidal wave of +precision-trained Vininese infantry wheeled into the square.</p> + +<p>An official touched Dirrul's arm. "You must take the salute of our +work-leaders now."</p> + +<p>Dirrul was pushed back against the stone railing as an orderly mob +filed past, blank-faced and chattering with meaningless pleasure. Many +of them pressed forward to touch his hand before the guards tactfully +hurried them on. When the organized confusion was at its height a tiny +square of paper was slipped into his hand.</p> + +<p>Dirrul had no idea which of the mob had given it to him and he dared +not glance at it. But he managed to hide the paper in the band of his +tunic.</p> + +<p>Hour by hour the throng filed past, endless and meaningless. It was an +agony for Dirrul. For the first time he looked into the face of his +dream and saw the reality of Vinin—order, discipline, efficiency—and +utter blankness. Unhappily he recalled one of Dr. Kramer's lectures.</p> + +<p>"... Defiance of convention, confusion, frustration, stubbornness—yes +and a touch of the neurotic too—these goad the individual into +solving problems. And problem solving is progress. An orderly society +that asks no questions of itself, a society that has no doubts, is a +dying society...."</p> + +<p>Dirrul understood the professor at last. He looked squarely at the +fact of what he was, a traitor to his own people, on the verge of +betraying them. He had been wonderfully deluded by his own +self-deception.</p> + +<p>But the job wasn't quite finished. The Vininese would not have gone to +take Glenna from the hospital if they had understood his teleray. Let +them splurge on their reception! He was unimpressed. When the time +came for questions to be answered he would conveniently forget why he +had been sent to Vinin. Nothing they could do would drag it out of +him.</p> + +<p>The crowd thinned and Dirrul was taken inside the building, where his +Vininese host awaited him. Sighing deeply the Vininese stood up. +"These public displays do take so much of our time," he said, "but +it's over now." This last seemed to amuse him and he repeated it +softly before adding, "The Chief's ready to see you."</p> + +<p>Remembering the note and the flimsy possibility that it might suggest +a way out, Dirrul answered quickly, "But, sir, I really ought to clean +up first."</p> + +<p>"You Agronians have such weird notions of propriety!"</p> + +<p>"I would feel more presentable to your Chief if—if I could have a +bath. Perhaps I might even borrow a change of clothing."</p> + +<p>The Vininese fingered his chin thoughtfully. "It might be more +amusing. Yes, the Chief can wait a few minutes longer for you to +satisfy your vanity."</p> + +<p>He summoned a blank-faced liveried servant and asked for a clean +worker's suit for Dirrul. Then he took Dirrul to the wall tube and +they shot noiselessly to an upper floor. As he left Dirrul at the +door of a luxurious suite, the Vininese said, "When you change your +clothes, my friend, don't forget to take the disk out of your tunic. +The Chief will want it when you see him."</p> + +<p>When he was sure he was alone Dirrul spread open the note. It was a +crude drawing of a hearing aid and beneath it a cryptic sentence +written in Agronian,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>I lost mine and so has Glenna now.</i></p></div> + +<p>The signature was unmistakably Hurd's but the note made no sense. +Hurd's hearing was as sound as Dirrul's. He had never used a +mechanical device—how could he have lost it then? <i>So has +Glenna</i>—that must be the key. Hurd somehow knew about the vagabond +raiding party that had rescued Glenna from the mental hospital. He +must have escaped from the Vininese earlier himself. He was probably +hiding somewhere in the capital.</p> + +<p>Working on this hypothesis Dirrul made a guess that the thing Hurd had +lost was his illusion about the Vininese system. The hearing aid +symbolized what Hurd had been told about it, as opposed to the reality +which he saw with his own eyes.</p> + +<p>But such an interpretation didn't ring entirely true. It was too +involved for an idea which could have been better expressed in four +words—<i>I know the truth</i>. Tossing the note aside Dirrul turned on the +water in the shower room and thoughtfully disrobed.</p> + +<p>As he threw his tunic aside a violent paralyzing terror seized his +mind, making his head sing with a screeching vibration. Blindly he +snatched up the tunic in order to stuff the cloth into his mouth so he +would not cry out. But as soon as he pressed it against his skin his +terror vanished, like a siren suddenly stilled.</p> + +<p>The pattern of the real truth fell into place then. Now he understood +the power of Vinin. Experimentally he took Sorgel's disk out of his +tunic and laid it on a table. As soon as he did so the blinding +nameless horror flamed up. When he held the disk again the exhausting +emotion vanished.</p> + +<p>Looking back Dirrul saw an abundance of evidence that might have given +him a clue, had he not spent so much mental effort bolstering his +illusion of Vinin. There was the circumstance of his own unrelenting +terror when he was without the disk in the ravine—the painful sight +of his captors puncturing the prisoners' eardrums—the soundless talk +of the vagabonds, like the lip-reading of the deaf—the bleak +orderliness of the cheering mobs—and, most obvious of all, the +strange transmitters atop the well-guarded stone block-buildings.</p> + +<p>It was all there, even to the final cruelty to the children. What was +it the Vininese had said? "The adjustment is sometimes very severe but +on the whole the casualties are light." And the very young, before +they were taken from their parents, didn't need disks because they +were in what the Vininese had called "the instinct period."</p> + +<p>Dirrul knew what Hurd's drawing meant. Somehow Hurd had lost his +hearing, perhaps as a result of the beating the police had given him +on Agron. In any case only the deaf could think rationally on Vinin. +Hurd was telling Dirrul to shatter his own sense of hearing if he +still had the will to think and act for himself. The nightmare Dirrul +had witnessed in the ravine was not torture but the bravery of +desperate men attempting to rescue rational minds.</p> + +<p>The Rational Potential—the gift of the legendary Earthmen! Like the +processes of thought itself it could never be wiped out by argument or +reason once it was understood. The Earthmen had wasted centuries +trying to undo their own evolved rationality before they realized it +could not be done. Now, on a higher level in another plane, the +Vininese were struggling to submerge the Earthmen's second achievement +of the Rational Potential.</p> + +<p>It was done by their transmitters. A wave of some sort—probably +subsonic or supersonic—continuously filled the Vininese atmosphere. +The Vininese who wore the disks were protected against it. The others +succumbed if they retained their hearing. As Dirrul himself had +discovered in the ravine, when he did not consciously think the terror +diminished.</p> + +<p>All Vininese children were given a basic education. It built up their +automatic responses, established correct stimulus-response behavior +patterns. Then, for the masses, the protective disks were eliminated +and the screeching fear pounded at them until the processes of +creative thinking were destroyed, leaving a backlog of malleable and +obedient habit patterns. The problem solving was done for them by +their masters.</p> + +<p>The Vininese Confederacy—half the galaxy—was peopled by billions +upon billions of robot races, ruled by a handful of men with absolute +power. To that Dirrul would have betrayed his planet! To slavery and +to the destruction of the Rational Potential, all for the slippery +dream of orderliness and efficiency which masqueraded as progress.</p> + +<p>He could save Agron today—but for how long? Sorgel would bewitch +countless other discontented Agronian fools. The Movement would try +again and one day the Vininese space fleet would penetrate the +Agronian Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had to escape. He had to go home and +tell the truth about Vinin.</p> + +<p>And it was impossible. He was completely trapped with no visible way +out for himself.</p> + + +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<p>Dirrul stood in front of the metal-surfaced reflector, fingering the +cap of his ear. To survive as a thinking being he must deafen himself. +Yet he hesitated. Self-inflicted violence was the negation of the +Rational Potential.</p> + +<p>Then, slowly, he developed a new idea. He could use the power of +Vinin, to save Agron if not himself!</p> + +<p>There came a knock on his door. Dirrul drew on his tunic as a stranger +entered the room.</p> + +<p>"The Chief is impatient—you must come at once."</p> + +<p>Durril was led through a metal-roofed tunnel into a wide sunny +transparent-walled room at the top of the building. The door closed +behind him. He was alone with a tall smooth-faced man, exotically +costumed in a tight black suit crusted with white jewels and framed by +a white cloak thrown loosely around his shoulders. He sat back of a +tremendous desk—behind his chair was a tilted panel of dials, levers +and tiny glowing lights, running the length of the room under the +ceiling-high window.</p> + +<p>"It is always a pleasure to welcome a hero of the Vininese +Confederacy," the Chief said without getting up. His tone was slow, +tired, emotionless. His eyes were without expression. "May I ask your +name?"</p> + +<p>"Dirrul—Edward Dirrul."</p> + +<p>"And you come from Agron with a message from our agent," he said, +speaking Agronian. "So much we got from your teleray. In fifty +days—actually forty-nine from now, by your time—your local Movement +will have use for a Vininese space-fleet. I have already dispatched +Sub-units B and C. Now, if you will give me the details of your Plan I +can code-wave them to my commander."</p> + +<p>"There's been a mistake, sir. What I really meant when I sent the +message was—"</p> + +<p>"So you've discovered the truth." The Chief's hand darted toward a +cubicle of his desk and he held a metal-barreled weapon aimed steadily +at Dirrul. "These things are always so tedious. Give me your disk."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Dirrul agreed readily but as he felt in his pocket the +Chief gestured negatively with his weapon.</p> + +<p>"No, keep it." After a pause he added, "You're certain that you know, +Dirrul?"</p> + +<p>"I've seen the transmitters."</p> + +<p>"Then why aren't you afraid? Why do you consent so readily? The others +are always terrified—they'll confess to anything if I promise to let +them keep the disks. Have you ever heard the sound, Dirrul? Do you +really know what it's like?"</p> + +<p>"You want information from me. You have no chance of getting it if you +deprive me of the ability to think."</p> + +<p>"Granted. And otherwise?"</p> + +<p>"You won't get it either."</p> + +<p>The Chief sighed wearily. "You are simply trading one romantic +illusion for another. You have somehow convinced yourself that one +man—one lone Agronian—can hold out against us. Let me tell you a +little about our system, Dirrul, so you'll understand how futile it is +to waste your time and mine like this." Not a trace of feeling came +into his voice. He sounded slightly bored, reciting a matter-of-fact +chronology of statistics.</p> + +<p>"As you have guessed we create our leader-class on each of our planets +by protecting them from the sound waves with the disks. If scattered +groups among the general public should ever gain immunity—as far as +we know only idiots and the deaf can do that—they could never carry +out a successful revolt. The only way would be for the transmitter +stations to be silenced.</p> + +<p>"However, every unit operates independently on its own power. We have +thousands of them on every planet. All but one could be destroyed, and +that one transmitter would still be enough to control the planet. You +begin to see, I think, that any kind of resistance is foolish. In time +you can be made to do as I ask. Unfortunately, we have no time to +spare.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you're thinking that outsiders—tourists, let's say—could +come here and overthrow us. All rational beings in the galaxy are +subject to the same physical laws. They still must hear and if they do +they're powerless.</p> + +<p>"Besides, our secret is remarkably well-kept. The tourists and +merchants come to our planet in droves. They notice nothing—because +of the amusing idiosyncrasy of Vininese customs men, who are required +to stamp the hand of each visitor with an identification mark. The +coloring material is atomically constituted to act as a temporary disk +while the tourist is among us. He notices nothing amiss. He sees what +we want him to see—he goes home favorably impressed—and by that time +the mark has worn away. You get the general picture, Dirrul? Nothing +can ever defeat us."</p> + +<p>"Nothing but yourselves."</p> + +<p>"Romantic nonsense! Let me show you what I can do, Dirrul, even when +you wear a disk. I think you'll bargain then." The Chief turned a +little to face the panel behind his desk, feeling over the dials while +he kept Dirrul framed in his gunsight.</p> + +<p>"The young man you went to this morning for help is a sadist. The +reception was his idea—so was your bath. He likes to have our +traitors—and you are a traitor, of course, to your own people—he +likes to have them discover the truth before we take their disks away. +It's an exquisite torture but in your case annoying, since it puts you +in a position to bargain. Now it occurs to me that your host should be +disciplined for his bungling."</p> + +<p>The Chief pointed to the surface of his desk. "Watch the screen, +Dirrul." An opaque rectangle glowed with light, slowly came into +focus, and revealed a large mirrored lounge, where a number of +official Vininese stood talking and drinking. The Chief twisted a +dial, pulled a lever and one of the Vininese collapsed, writhing on +the glassy floor in violent agony.</p> + +<p>The screen went blank.</p> + +<p>"I have not only decontrolled your friend's disk," the Chief explained +blandly, "but I have doubled his receptability to sound. I can +continue the treatment until he goes mad—or I can snap it off and let +it serve as a warning.</p> + +<p>"From this panel here I control every disk-wearer on Vinin—including +yourself, Dirrul. You understand, I think, that there can never be +any disloyalty among our leaders—they're consciously aware of the +consequences. And revolt in the ranks is physically impossible. We're +safe, you see, even from ourselves."</p> + +<p>Once again there was a slight trace of emotion in the weary voice. "No +doubt you also gather, Dirrul, who is the real ruler of Vinin. There +are a hundred thousand of us, more or less, scattered throughout the +Confederacy. All right—tell me what I need to know. If your Plan +succeeds I'll deputize you for Agron when we annex it."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Dirrul saw the answer. His heart leaped with joy and it was +difficult to keep the feeling out of his voice when he said, "You have +been talking to me in my own tongue." Carefully he inched toward the +desk. "And understanding me."</p> + +<p>"Entirely beside the point."</p> + +<p>"Not entirely. You hear what I say—which means that you must wear a +disk too."</p> + +<p>Dirrul sprang across the desk. At the same time the Chief raised his +weapon and fired. Flame seared Dirrul's cheek. A red mist welled +before him and he reeled back against the control panel as the Chief +fired again. The second explosion was so close it seemed to be within +his own mind.</p> + +<p>The Chief's hand clawed at Dirrul's tunic, ripping the disk away from +him. Recoiling in anticipation of the dread shock wave, Dirrul hurled +himself at the Chief.</p> + +<p>But instead of the screaming terror he felt nothing. An inexplicable +force seemed to close in on him. His head spun dizzily but his mind +still functioned. He smashed his fist into the face of the Chief and +the body sagged to the floor.</p> + +<p>Dirrul stood bewildered, looking at his hand. A mass of flesh-like +material, torn from the Chief's face, clung to his knuckles. Dirrul +bent over the man and touched his skin. It crumbled under pressure and +the lifelike purple coloring ran. Dirrul peeled the putty away until +he could make out the shape of the pale wrinkled very aged face +beneath.</p> + +<p>Sickened he moved away—for he had seen the ruler of Vinin.</p> + + +<h2>IX</h2> + +<p>Dirrul backed into the desk, knocking a fragile statuette to the +floor. When it lay shattered at his feet he understood why he could +still plan and reason, even though the disk was gone. The Chief's +shot, fired so close to his head, had deafened him either temporarily +or permanently.</p> + +<p>Dirrul ran to the control panel and twisted dials frantically, pulling +every lever he could find. He had no idea what he was doing and it +didn't matter so long as something happened. If he could decontrol +even half the disks on Vinin it would create enough confusion to cover +his own escape.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Twenty-five days later the Space-dragon shot up from the space-field +which was hidden among the stony Vininese mountain ravines. As it cut +through the stratosphere Dirrul's bonds were released. He felt +exhausted and empty. His last memory was of talking to Hurd on the +mountain trail. Beyond that was a blank. He looked up at Glenna, as +beautiful as ever but somehow more mature.</p> + +<p>"You're all right now, Eddie?" she asked in a loud voice that betrayed +her deafness.</p> + +<p>"I think so. Where are you taking me?"</p> + +<p>She touched her ears, still crudely bandaged. "You must say everything +very slowly, Eddie. I haven't yet learned to read lips as well as Hurd +does."</p> + +<p>"Where are we going?"</p> + +<p>"Back to Agron."</p> + +<p>"We have no right, Glenna—we're traitors!"</p> + +<p>"We have a duty to tell them the truth. What they do with us doesn't +matter."</p> + +<p>He shook his head weakly, still lost in his stupor. "Tell me what +happened, Glenna—I can't remember anything."</p> + +<p>"You got out of the government building and stole a Space-dragon. Then +you came looking for us. Just after you met Hurd your hearing began to +come back and of course you lost control of yourself. Hurd wanted to +break your eardrums but I wouldn't let him.</p> + +<p>"Since we had a space-ship at last we could get away from Vinin and I +knew you'd be all right when we did. But it took us a month to steal +enough fuel. Something you did in the government building paralyzed a +lot of the leaders for a while but by the time we got around to +looking for fuel the others had restored order again."</p> + +<p>The door of the control room slid open and Hurd dropped down on the +bunk beside Dirrul. "Feeling better?" he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I guess so. The whole picture's beginning to come back."</p> + +<p>Hurd sighed with relief and his face relaxed.</p> + +<p>Dirrul asked slowly, "How did you get away from them, Hurd?"</p> + +<p>"I lost my hearing in the beating Sorgel gave me on Agron."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sorgel!</i>" Dirrul repeated unbelievingly. It was the last illusion to +go and for that reason the most painful. "Then it wasn't the Agronian +police—"</p> + +<p>"Of course it was Sorgel," Glenna said quietly. "He had to get rid of +us because we wouldn't go along with him on the idea of a Vininese +invasion. I tried so hard to tell you, Eddie, but I couldn't because +of the drugs they gave us."</p> + +<p>"The Vininese never knew I was deaf," Hurd went on. "It's easy enough +to escape from a work camp when you can think for yourself. The +Vininese resistance found me in the hills and I've been working with +them ever since. A pitiful band of the deaf, fighting insurmountable +odds to win back the human dignity of half the galaxy! But they won't +turn tail and run and their numbers grow every time they raid a work +camp."</p> + +<p>"Were you with the men who kidnapped Glenna?"</p> + +<p>"We were all out that night, trying to keep watch on the camps near +the capital. We didn't know which one Glenna was in but I was sure the +Vininese would try to reach her after they got your teleray message. +We counted on the Vininese leading us to her and we knew we had to +kidnap her first if we were to keep them from learning about the Plan +on Agron.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately I wasn't with the group that picked you up, Eddie. They +thought they had taken a Vininese leader and it seemed such a suitable +punishment to take your disk away and let you hear the sound for a +while. Later—after you'd escaped—when the others described your +Air-Command uniform I took a chance and sent my note."</p> + +<p>He helped Dirrul to his feet. "You'll have to take over from here on +in, Eddie. You said you knew how to pilot this thing. I figured out a +take-off but that's as far as I can go."</p> + +<p>"Sorgel's pilot showed me once," he said. "What I don't remember I'll +improvise. He said a Space-dragon could make the run in thirty days. +This baby's got to do it in less than twenty-five if we're going to +beat the Vininese fleet to Agron."</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell them the Plan, did you, Eddie?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"The Vininese won't land without instructions."</p> + +<p>"Sorgel may get up enough courage to send a teleray code. We can't +take any chances either."</p> + +<p>Dirrul drove himself without rest. He cut every corner he knew, used +every trick of navigational skill he had ever learned. Nonetheless it +was twenty-eight days before the little ship hung in the air over the +Agronian capital.</p> + +<p>His heart sank. On the space-field, in neat ranks, the Vininese +space-fleet was drawn up in proud review. The planet had fallen! +Dirrul made his decision instinctively.</p> + +<p>The Space-dragon wheeled and swept low over the field, its vicious +guns blazing. The yellow clouds of destruction swept up toward the +sky—the little ship was caught in the blazing flame. The +interplanetary freight sheds loomed ahead. And the world exploded, +falling apart into a soothing painless silence.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Dirrul opened his eyes and looked at the neutral blue of a hospital +ceiling. Gradually he became conscious of Dr. Kramer, seated by the +bed.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Kramer!" Dirrul whispered. "Then everything's all right."</p> + +<p>"If by everything you mean your companions, yes. There's even a chance +we can restore the girl's hearing."</p> + +<p>"And the Vininese?"</p> + +<p>"Defeated."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Kramer, we've got to destroy the Confederacy! I saw their +transmitters—I know how their system works."</p> + +<p>"Hush, Edward—I promised not to excite you. We know about it."</p> + +<p>"Then how could you have been foolish enough to let them land?"</p> + +<p>"It seemed a pity not to give a few of their people another chance. +It's working out quite nicely too."</p> + +<p>"I don't follow you, Dr. Kramer."</p> + +<p>"Long ago we became interested when tourists told us about the curious +block-buildings on Vinin. Our physics boys worked out an ingenious +device for analyzing their atmosphere. It was a little machine +concealed in the lining of an ordinary air-freight crate, as I recall.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"A machine is quite objective, Edward—and Customs men don't stamp +freight crates with the negative adaptors. When we learned that a +Vininese fleet was going to land here we simply issued insulating +helmets to all our people and let them come. As soon as we destroyed +their portable transmitters the Vininese army proved quite adaptable +to a new environment."</p> + +<p>"Then—I did nothing to help when I destroyed their fleet?"</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately you wounded two of our mechanics."</p> + +<p>"I'm a traitor, Dr. Kramer. Even when I try I can't redeem myself!"</p> + +<p>"Only on Vinin can you betray an external absolute, Edward. To an +Agronian all objective concepts are relative to the subjective +interpretations made by each individual. You can only be a traitor to +yourself."</p> + +<p>"The words are pleasant to say to a sick man but the fact remains—I +would have betrayed Agron."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't. Why not?"</p> + +<p>"When I saw what their efficiency really meant—"</p> + +<p>"You changed your mind before you knew about the transmitters?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then you're libeling yourself. Don't trap yourself in another +self-delusion, Edward. All that's happened is that you've grown up."</p> + +<p>Dirrul said slowly, feeling for words that would express the idea as +he felt it, "When I was in the center of the galaxy, looking out on +space, I almost grasped a new concept but I lost it when the Agronian +patrol attacked me. It's coming back.</p> + +<p>"Time and space seem to be one and the same. Neither exists as an +objective reality. There is no past and no future—all of it occurs +eternally in the instant of my own being. I am everything and +nothing—infinity and a speck lost in space."</p> + +<p>"Thus you discover the Rational Potential," Dr. Kramer smiled. "I +think you're ready for the space-pilot promotional, Edward." After a +pause Dr. Kramer inquired, "Did you see the Chief of Vinin, Edward?"</p> + +<p>"Then you know about that too?"</p> + +<p>"I've guessed—it seems likely."</p> + +<p>"I scraped off the putty and the face color. Beneath it he was an +Earthman. A hundred thousand of them rule the Confederacy."</p> + +<p>"All time and space, forever occurring for each of us in the instant +of now! Yes, he would be an Earthman, Edward—quite logically. Both +good and evil begin with the same source. Both have the same Rational +Potential. The act of being has always been the same struggle of +constant forces, between the absolute and the relative. The time never +changes nor the event but merely the passing illusion of place."</p> + +<p>Shaking his head the chubby professor departed. Dirrul closed his +eyes, at peace with himself.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Instant of Now, by Irving E. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Instant of Now + +Author: Irving E. Cox, Jr. + +Release Date: March 15, 2010 [EBook #31651] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INSTANT OF NOW *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe Aug-Sept 1953. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + +[_One of the most intriguing of all science fiction patterns + is that of the galactic sweep--the story which takes for granted human + travel between stars at speeds far faster than the speed of light. In + its most successful form, such a story combines cosmic action with a + wholly human plot. In this case Mr. Cox--but read it yourself._] + + + the instant of now + + + _by ... Irving E. Cox, Jr._ + + + Revolution is not necessarily a noble thing. Unless shrewdly + directed, its best elements may fall victim to its basest + impulses. + + * * * * * + + + + +Eddie Dirrul had destroyed the message seconds after reading it. Yet, +as he left the pneumotube from the University, he felt as if it were +burning a hole in his pocket. It had come to him from Paul Sorgel, the +new top-agent from the Planet Vinin. It had been written in High +Vininese. + +For a moment the alien language had slowed Eddie's reaction to its +contents, as had the shocking nature of its words. It had read-- + + _Need your help. Glenna and Hurd in brush with Secret + Police--both hurt. Come at once._ + +Luckily old Dr. Kramer had asked no awkward questions when Eddie +excused himself from the balance of the lecture. If the kindly +bumbling professor had been inquisitive, Eddie had no idea how he +would have answered. Glenna was his fiancee, Hurd his best friend--and +their disaster meant disaster for the underground movement that had +become the guiding purpose of his entire life. + +The night was still young when he emerged from the pneumotube and the +slanting ramp-lines of windows in the massive unit-blocks of the +Workers' Suburb rose about him within the darkness of the structural +frames that encased them. + +Parks, recreation centers and gaudy amusement halls were aswirl with +the usual evening crowds. With a sort of angry heedlessness Eddie +forced his way among tall perpetually-youthful men in bright leisure +clothing--and consciously alluring women clad in filmy garments as +teasingly transparent as mist. + +_Glenna hurt--and Hurd!_ Seriously, of course, or Paul Sorgel would +never have risked a hand-message. With quiet desperation he pushed +through the crowds--in his trim grey Air-command uniform he was one +with them, a nonentity like themselves. + +He knew where to find the three he sought. Beyond the outdoor courts, +where his fellow-Agronians amused themselves with a variety of +racquet-games, lay a tiny park, wherein a state of wild disorder was +carefuly maintained in imitation of nature. + +Few were attracted by its rugged growth, save in very warm weather, +when hardy souls ventured within its borders to relax in artificial +breezes created by silent concealed fans. In its center stood a small +stone building that housed the maintenance machinery. It was deserted, +except for once each year when the city engineering crews came to +check the machines and to make minor repairs. There the Libero-Freedom +Movement held its meetings, in the shadow of the whirring wheels. + +Sorgel came out of the shadows as Dirrul pushed through the thicket of +brush that surrounded the stone building. In a hushed whisper he +asked, "That you, Eddie?" + +"Yes--where are they?" + +"Inside. I gave them a hypo--they're both under now. It makes it +easier." + +"How did it happen, Paul?" + +"I was to meet Glenna and Hurd at her apartment, to talk over the +details of the Plan. The police were there ahead of me but I broke up +the party before they could finish the job. Since they've got to do +this sort of thing unofficially, to be able to deny it later if any +questions are asked, I scared them off easily enough. I brought Glenna +and Hurd here in my Unicyl but I'll need your help to get them out." + +"This is the second time it's happened, Paul!" said Eddie. "And the +Plan--we'll have to organize all over again. As soon as our people +hear about this most of them will run like scared rabbits." + +"Not if they don't know, Eddie. That's where you come in. We've got to +get Glenna and Hurd away from Agron. If there's no evidence of a crime +there's no reason for an investigation." + +"But what can I do?" + +"Borrow one of the Air-command's surface jets for a while." + +Paul Sorgel's plan was simple and efficient. The Air-Command field was +fenced with electronic paralysis barriers and the entrance was heavily +guarded. But no watch was kept inside the encampment except for a +daily inspection of the machines when the guard was changed at dawn. +Since Dirrul was a Captain of the Space-maintenance Division, 73rd +Air-Command Wing, he was able to enter the area at any time without +question. Among the scheduled night training flights for new cadets, +the departure of one more surface jet would pass unobserved. + +"Come back here for Glenna and Hurd," Sorgel said, "and take them out +to the South Desert. If there's no hitch you should be back before +dawn, with time to spare. If not...." Sorgel shrugged. "Eddie, we +can't build a better universe without taking occasional risks." + +Slowly Dirrul's body tensed with fear. In a cold dead voice he asked, +"Am I to leave them there, without help or medicine, to die of thirst +and hunger?" + +"Many sacrifices are necessary for the good of the Movement." + +"But Glenna and Hurd are our leaders!" + +"The freedom of the universe means a little more, I think, than the +temporary safety of two individuals." Sorgel lit a cigarette. In the +faint pink reflection of the Glo-Wave lighter his face was emptily +placid, a faint smile twisting the corners of his lips. "Suppose I say +it's a command, Dirrul--a Vininese command, calling for Vininese +discipline." + +After a moment Dirrul replied in a choked whisper, "I'll take them, +sir." + +Sorgel smiled and the crisp tone of authority edged out of his voice. +"As a matter of fact, Eddie, I was curious to see what you would do. +The Vininese Confederacy practises neither cruelty nor deception. +You'll find one of our Space-dragons hidden in a gorge of the Katskain +Range. It's the ship I came in a week ago. + +"The pilot was instructed to wait fifteen planetary revolutions in the +event that I might have a report to send back to Headquarters. You +must learn to trust me, Eddie. From the first, you see, I intended to +send Glenna and Hurd to Vinin. If they get there in time there's a +chance our Medical Corps can pull them through. They may even be back +here with us for the day when we carry out the Plan." + +Dirrul was in no real danger. Much as it benefited the Movement the +laxity of Agronian security was one of the chief reasons why Dirrul +scorned the Planetary Union. The space-wide patrols of the +Air-Command, the city guards and the electronic paralysis barricades +created a feeling of internal control--but it was all a glittering +sham. If it were not for the Nuclear Beams the whole system would long +since have crumbled under the first pressure from outside. + +With no difficulty he picked up Glenna and Hurd and took them to the +South Desert, where he put them aboard the sleek Vininese space-ship. +It was one of the new Dragon design--compact, efficient, faster than +anything built by the Planetary Union, protected by sixteen circular +batteries and yet small enough to be handled by one man. + +Dirrul had seen only one other Vininese Space-dragon and that from a +distance at the Agronian commercial airport, when the last Vininese +ambassador arrived. Technically there was no reason why Paul Sorgel +could not have landed there as well, except that the Customs +questionnaire might have proved embarrassing. + +Twenty years earlier, when Dirrul was still a schoolboy, the Galactic +War had ended. Since that time relations between the Planetary Union +and the Vininese Confederacy had steadily improved--at least in +appearance. Undoubtedly there were commercial interests on both sides +anxious to maintain peace and in recent years the quantity of goods in +trade had grown enormously. But it was a truce, not a peace--a +compromise, rather than a victory--forced on the galaxy when the +scientists of the Planetary Union discovered the Nuclear Beams. + +Pain shot through Dirrul's mind as he carried Glenna into the +pressurized chamber under the control room. She and Hurd were still +unconscious but Glenna turned in his arms and her eyes fluttered open. +She looked at him and screamed in terrible agony before the pilot of +the Space-dragon plunged a hypodermic sedative into her arm. + +"It is better," he said to Dirrul in throaty Vininese. "So beautiful a +one should not feel the pain." Carefully he fastened the needlepoint +of a wall tube into Glenna's vein and another into Hurd's. + +"Synthetic blood feeding," he said with a smile. "It will keep them +alive, perhaps even permitting minor wounds to heal, until I deliver +them to the authorities on Vinin. You see, sir, my little ship is +well-equipped." He slammed the round door of the hospital room shut +and led Dirrul to the control blister. + +"How long will it be, this trip to Vinin?" Dirrul asked, speaking very +slowly in classical Vininese. Like everyone in the Movement he had +studied the language of Vinin as a sort of courtesy and duty but he +had no illusion about his small ability to handle it. + +"In terms of your time," the pilot said, "about thirty days." + +"Only thirty? The Planetary Union hasn't a ship that could make it +under sixty!" + +"But this is a Space-dragon." The words were self-explanatory. + +Proudly the pilot showed Dirrul the controls, as functional and as +uncomplex as the cool clean lines of the ship herself. The design was +so logical, so basically simple, that within a few minutes Dirrul +understood enough of the mechanism to have driven the ship himself. + +"Your scientists could do as well," the pilot suggested, "if they +wished." + +"Not mine," Dirrul said. + +"Pardon--the scientists of the Planetary Union. On Vinin we create for +the future, for the progress of the Confederacy. We have no patience +with petty argument, tedious experimentation or the pointless +splitting of hairs that seems to occupy so much of your time here. For +us a scientist is a producer, like everyone else. If he fails to do +his job we replace him." + +Pleased with the comparison the pilot chuckled over his dials as he +turned on the power. Above the roar he said to Dirrul, "We must talk +again one day, sir. If you ever have the good fortune to come to Vinin +be sure to look me up." + + +II + +As the Vininese ship shot smoothly out into the night sky, Dirrul's +surface jet slashed back toward the Agronian capital. A synthetic +tension, which he deliberately fed with nightmare improbabilities, +kept him reasonably alert until he had safely returned the jet to its +place in the compound. Then weariness engulfed him. Groggily he +staggered to the pneumotube and within five minutes he was asleep in +the small two-room worker's apartment where he lived. + +The insistent _ping_ of the door visiscope woke him. Dirrul glanced at +his wall clock and saw that it was still early morning. He had slept +less than three hours. Swearing angrily he turned down the visiarm. +Dr. Kramer's serene aging white-bearded face was mirrored on the +grey-tinted screen. + +"Good morning, Edward," Kramer said with excessive cheerfulness. "For +a moment I was afraid I had missed you. I've brought a transcription +of the lecture you missed yesterday." + +Dirrul swung out of bed and pushed the entry release. Soundlessly the +thin metal door slid into the wall and the little professor bounced +into the room. The door shot back into place. + +"But you're not dressed!" the professor exclaimed without the +slightest regret. "I always supposed you Air-Command men had to report +for work at eight." + +"Yesterday I was out on emergency call," Dirrul said dully. "For +twelve hours, so I've the morning off. I had planned to pound the +pillow until--" + +"Good! We can talk, then. I don't have a class until ten and I always +like to make the personal acquaintance of my students." Dr. Kramer +made himself comfortable in Dirrul's Cloud-foam lounge, clasping his +small, white hands over the little bulge of his belly. "Nice apartment +you have here, Edward--excellent taste in furnishing." + +"You don't mind if I shave and dress and have a bite of breakfast, Dr. +Kramer?" Dirrul's sarcasm was quite lost on the professor. + +"Do, by all means," Kramer said. "And you might order a pot of coffee +for me." + +Dirrul touched a button and the bed rolled up into the wall--another +and the gleaming metal shower-room slid open. He stripped and bathed, +setting the aquadial so that his body was pounded by a sharp rain of +icy water. When he snapped it off the massage arms shot out, rubbing +him dry with soft, plastic puffs. He sprayed the newly patented +No-Beard Mist on his face and, after waiting the required three +seconds, wiped it off with a disposable fiber towel. The skin was +pink and clean, refreshingly invigorated. When he took a fresh uniform +out of the wall-press and put it on he felt very much himself again, +scarcely annoyed by his lack of sleep. + +He pushed the button and the bathroom rolled out of sight. The whole +process had taken less than five minutes. + +At his panel-control Dirrul dialed a sizable breakfast for himself and +coffee for the professor. Before he could draw up chairs the +grey-topped table had rolled from its wall slot, the steaming food +containers fixed to it. + +"The marvels of invention!" Dr. Kramer said. "When I was young we had +nothing like this. Many times, Edward, I had to prepare my own +meals--and mighty skimpy ones they were too, some of them. A young +teacher in those days wasn't paid very much." + +"You survived, Dr. Kramer," Dirrul reminded him dryly. "A little work +now and then wouldn't hurt us, either." + +"That's the old argument, Edward. How we frothed and stewed over it +when this new system was in its infancy! That was before your time, of +course." Kramer poured a cup of coffee and after a thoughtful +hesitation quietly took a slice of toast from Dirrul's platter. "They +said we'd create a race of helpless children--defenseless lazy +softies. They said if the individual wasn't forced to fight for his +own survival, for the small comforts of life, he would die of boredom, +drown initiative in luxury." + +Dr. Kramer smiled--and took another slice of toast. "Like so many of +the terrifying predictions of the Cassandras none of it came to pass. +Today we're stronger and more vigorous than ever. Today we have more +new inventions, more new discoveries, more fine philosophical insight +than ever before in our entire history. + +"Actually what we did was save time on the trivial routines so we +could spend our work-potential where it mattered. After all, what was +gained by a social system that forced me to spend so much of my energy +feeding and housing and clothing myself? Weigh the loss against the +greater contribution I might have made if I had spent the same time in +research." + +"Why, yes, Dr. Kramer--you could have given us the Cloud-foam lounge a +generation earlier," Dirrul said bitterly, "or perhaps the Safe-sweet +candy." + +Again his sarcasm lost its savor, for the professor simply beamed and +said, "Possibly, if that had been my field of interest. As it happens +I'm a psychologist specializing in emotive linguistics--the +symbologies for conveying meanings." The professor smiled. + +"Our present vigor and strength, no doubt, is reflected in the sort of +thing we do with all this extra time our gadgets give us--the +scholarly research in the Arena or the Phonoview." + +"You're being very uncritical, Edward. Under any social form a great +majority of the people would spend everything on personal pleasures. +Why not? Each generation produces only a few leaders--we simply +recognize that fact and adjust to it." + +"But without the incentive of personal gain, Dr. Kramer...." + +The professor laughed uproariously. "Incentive! You amaze me, Edward. +I haven't heard the word used in just that context since I was a boy. +You're a throwback--an anachronism. You sound like one of the elderly +prophets of doom. I thought the breed had died out generations ago." +The professor laughed again. "So our system creates no incentives. +Tell me, Edward, why are you spending your Work-Equivs to take my +night course?" + +"Because, when I've passed enough university hours I can take the +promotional test and become a full-fledged space-pilot." + +"And still you say there's no incentive?" + +"For myself, yes--but all of us ought to have the same kind of drive," +said Dirrul. + +"Such a condition never existed, Edward. Always there have been a few +to make the inventions and the discoveries, a few to create the new +dreams and frame the new ideas. Our people are no different. Incentive +comes from within the individual--it cannot be imposed from the +outside. + +"The poorest sort of incentive, therefore, is economic need. Our +system provides all our people with the basic necessities for everyday +living. Some few of us are content with these and never want anything +else. But the great majority work to earn Work-Equivs, which they can +spend as they please--on amusement, luxury, education or the races at +the Arena. + +"Whatever the goal, it is a personal goal, set by each individual for +himself. It's the only kind of incentive that makes any sense. Take +yourself as an example--you spend your share of Work-Equivs on +additional education because you want to become a space-pilot. By the +time you've earned the promotion you'll have lifted yourself to a +position of leadership. + +"As you are well aware the space-pilot is the politician--statesman is +a better word--of the Planetary Union. Through his ingenuity, his +skill with languages, his psychological understanding of diverse +racial groups, he holds our planets and peoples together, in one union +with a common social philosophy. Think how frustrating it would be if +you could never move toward your goal, Edward, because everything you +earned had to be spent on trivialities--food, clothing, a place to +live." + +"All right," said Eddie doubtfully, "I have an apartment given to me +but it has to be here in a worker's block. If our system provides for +us all alike, as you imply, how is it you have accommodations in the +Scientist's Center? Why should you be set apart? Or the poets and +writers? Or the space-pilots, for that matter?" + +"But there's no difference in the way we live, Edward. In general +people who do similar work and have similar interests are happier if +they share the same social environment. The average person, living in +a worker's block, would feel terribly out of place in a scientist's +center, just as I would develop terrific frustrations if I had to live +with the mystics or the religious orders." + +Dirrul deftly snatched the last piece of toast as the professor +reached for it. "I'll dial some for you if you like," he offered. + +"Oh, no, Edward! I'm dieting, you see, and I like to think--well, as +I've told you so often in class, we all practise self-deception of a +sort. Usually it's harmless--and almost always we symbolize it in +words. For me the symbol is diet. + +"I set up a specialized definition and convince myself that I am +dieting if I never directly order fattening food. That gives me an +escape hatch. If food is offered to me or if it happens to--ah--to +fall into my hands, I can take it and still keep a clear conscience." + +"Perhaps you practise more self-deception than you know, Dr. Kramer," +said Eddie. "For instance, all your fine words about the strength and +vitality of our new system--when I was a boy we licked the Vininese +Confederacy. We couldn't do it today." + +"That's a matter of opinion. We're at peace now and we'll remain so." + +"Only because we have the Nuclear Beams. And look how we've botched +that mess! Our scientists gave the process to the Vininese in order to +patch together a peace when we could have destroyed their civilization +completely." + +"And our own too--with the weight of such a crime on our group +conscience. There's one thing you still must learn, Edward--scientific +progress is made by the sharing of ideas, not the concealment of them. +We build the future upon the truths of the past and the present. If +some of those truths are hidden away we create falsely on utterly +false foundations." + +Dr. Kramer pulled a manila envelope from his pocket and laid it on the +table, pushing back his chair. "I must go, Edward; these are the notes +on my lecture. As I told you before, I really came here for something +else. I wanted to talk to you, to get to understand you better. I +think I've learned a great deal." + +The little professor was no longer smiling and the gentle touch of +banter was gone from his voice. Dirrul felt a creeping fear rise +within him. How much had he unconsciously revealed? How many of his +own beliefs had Dr. Kramer been able to read between the lines? + +Knowing them, would he guess Dirrul's connection with the Movement? +The professor's bland naivete could be the mask of a police informer. +Dirrul shivered, remembering the sudden punishment that had overtaken +Glenna and Hurd. + +At the door Dr. Kramer paused and said, "I'm entertaining two or three +of the university faculty this evening, Edward. They've read some of +the papers you have written for my class. I'd like to have you meet +them. My apartment--eight-thirty." + +It was a command rather than an invitation. Dirrul accepted. + + +III + +As soon as the professor had gone his fear vanished. What he had said +to Dr. Kramer gave away no secrets and, in any case, he was crediting +the professor with a perception he did not have. Ever since first +joining the Movement, when he was still in school, Dirrul had taken +such pains to conceal his motives that it would have required a good +deal more than Dr. Kramer's clumsy prying to reveal them. + +He had deliberately patterned his attitudes and habits upon a +composite average, even to a mild and starry-eyed criticism of the +system which was more or less expected from the ambitious young men of +the Air-command. + +Dr. Kramer's ecstatic praise of the system was the typical emotional +reaction of the older generation. The professor may actually have been +convinced of the truth of his own fuzzy propaganda. It was that sort +of blind faith which still held the Planetary Union together. + +Before returning to the Air-Command base at noon, Dirrul sought out +Paul Sorgel and reported that Glenna and Hurd were safely on their way +to Vinin. Apologetically, he mentioned Dr. Kramer's invitation, +expecting to elicit Sorgel's scorn. Instead the Vininese agent was +enthusiastic. + +"Wonderful, Eddie!" he said. "Engineer it so they'll ask you back. +We've never got one of our people in with the older science crowd +before. Feel them out--we might pick up some converts. I won't need +you at the next few meetings of the Movement--they'll be largely +reorganizational, you know. I've been reading over Glenna's notes on +the Plan. With one or two modifications we should be able to carry it +out." + +At eight-thirty that evening Dirrul was admitted to Dr. Kramer's +apartment. He was neither overwhelmed by the professor's excessive +courtesy nor impressed by the other guests. They were from the faculty +of the Advanced Air University, elderly, respected and distinguished, +names known for a generation everywhere in the Planetary Union. + +To them, Edward Dirrul was merely a curiosity, a live specimen mounted +for analysis. He had criticised their system. They intended to wring +out the strands of his motivation, classify them, speculate and +theorize upon them--and perhaps, ultimately, do the whole thing up as +a monograph. + +Dirrul knew why Kramer had selected him for study rather than any of +the current crop of university students who held similar views. A +product of the educational philosophy of the Planetary Union, Dirrul +was thoroughly adjusted and decidedly aware of both his own abilities +and shortcomings. + +He was, first of all, gifted in the use of abstractions and +generalities. In rare combination with this flair he had superior +mechanical intelligence and a talent for expressive verbalization. He +dealt easily in the subtle skills of logic. If he set his mind to it, +he could erect absolute proofs of diametrically opposed truths and few +minds could detect the delicately concealed flaws in the reasoning. + +On the negative side of the scale was Dirrul's complete lack of +psycho-biological intelligence, or a sense of scientific semantics. +Neither to him seemed important. He missed them not at all and +resented the legal requirements that forced him to take Dr. Kramer's +course before he could qualify as a space-pilot. + +The papers he had written for the professor were beautifully +constructed patterns of logic, cast in well-turned phrases. They had +clarified the criticism which others put inarticulately. It was the +precision of his argument that disturbed Dr. Kramer and his faculty +friends. + +Dirrul was amused as the distinguished scientists skillfully +manipulated the conversation to create counter-arguments opposing his. +It was a game played in abstractions, a technique of which Dirrul was +an instinctive master. Apparently the scientists found some sort of +excitement in the game, since on succeeding evenings Dirrul was +swamped with invitations from other faculty members--so many, in fact, +that he had to neglect the serious work of the Movement. When he +complained to Paul Sorgel, the Vininese agent was delighted. + +"We can get along without you for awhile, Eddie," Sorgel said. "You're +doing something much more important. You have a real in with the +science crowd, and you've got them on the run because your arguments +make sense. Every doubt you sow in their minds now will make our work +just that much easier when the proper time comes." + +Occasionally Dirrul had an uneasy feeling that he was making no real +progress at all, that when he talked to the scientists he was a +dancing puppet dangling on invisible strings. It seemed impossible +that the scientists of the Ad-Air University could be so repeatedly +defeated by his logic. Slowly, however, he reasoned his way to an +explanation. + +The scientists, like the system itself, were in the last wild frenzy +of a decaying social order. They had lived so long in the atmosphere +of relative truths, they had so carefully schooled themselves to avoid +all absolutes, that they were unable to elude the simplest processes +of logic. Their very efforts to be objective made them too honest to +reject a conclusion once Dirrul had demonstrated the careful structure +that seemed to support it. + + * * * * * + +A month passed. Dirrul felt divorced from the Movement, existing in +suspended animation in a cloud of wordy unreality. Then abruptly the +slow-moving dream ended. Late one night Paul Sorgel slipped into +Dirrul's apartment and announced in an emotionless whisper, "The +Plan's ready. You'll have to carry the details to Vinin. We can't use +the teleray--the Union monitors might pick up the message and decode +it." + +"Naturally our Vininese Headquarters will want to know, Paul," said +Eddie, "but can't that wait? We'll need every man here when we--" + +Sorgel interrupted him. "I've made one or two changes in Glenna's +original plan. It was too impractical. A handful of men can't take +over half a galaxy." + +"Glenna and Hurd weren't after the entire Planetary Union, +Paul--that's out of the question. We meant to liberate Agron first. +The capital is here and for awhile the government would be disrupted. +When the people on the other planets saw how much better our social +organization had become, modeled on the Vininese system, they would +stage their own revolutions just like ourselves." + +Sorgel laughed scornfully. "And in the meantime, of course, none of +them would think of attacking you and throwing your people out?" + +"Not if we seized the Nuclear Beam Transmitters," said Dirrul, "no +space-fleet could come near us then." + +"Eddie, you've lived in Agron too long. You're not thinking straight +when you try to build the Plan around a single weapon." + +"Why not, Paul? It's a perfect defense. In less than thirty seconds +the Beam Transmitters can charge the entire stratospheric envelope of +Agron. Nothing can move through it without disintegrating, yet life on +the surface of the planet would go on quite normally because the +atmosphere serves as an insulation." + +"Technically it's a change in the form of energy, not a +disintegration," Sorgel reminded him. "The beamed electrons unite with +the atoms of visible material substances and alter them. I quite +understand the process, Eddie--Vinin has the Beam too, you know." + +"Because the Agronian scientists gave you the specifications!" + +"That always has rankled, hasn't it?" said Sorgel. + +"Yes," Dirrul admitted. "If the Vininese scientists had discovered the +Beam-reaction first they would have conquered the galaxy." + +"Conquer is a nasty word, Eddie," Sorgel said softly. "Vinin makes no +conquests. Let's put it differently and say we would have used the +Beam to bring peace to the galaxy instead of splitting it in two as it +is now." + +"Glenna's Plan can change all that, at least here on Agron." + +"Face the facts, Eddie! A few conscientious people with ideals can't +take over a planet. The Movement has its crews trained to capture the +Beam Transmitters. You'll isolate Agron and seize the government +offices simultaneously. What happens then?" + +"Our people will rise and join us," said Eddie. "We'll create a new +government modeled on Vinin's and we'll have young leaders instead of +murky thinkers like Dr. Kramer." + +"That's effective propaganda for speechmaking, but--" + +"Glenna pounded away at it too, Paul," said Eddie. "It was the most +telling line in winning our new crop of recruits." + +"Which is precisely why the police disposed of her. But it won't work. +The people won't rise. A mob is lethargic, too willing to keep things +as they are. Here on Agron you've been coddled too long with luxuries +and easy living. You have to prod the mob awake with a shock-force, a +force coming from the outside." + +"How, Paul? We haven't enough people in the Movement to put on any +real show of strength. We can't even get outside." + +"Now you understand the changes I've made in Glenna's Plan. You people +in the Movement will seize the Beam Transmitters as originally +planned. Then you'll simply hold them and keep them decommissioned +long enough for a Vininese space-fleet to land. We'll set up your new +government for you." + +"And the rest of the Planetary Union will go to war!" + +"It hardly matters," said Paul. "Once we're here the Beams will +protect us against counterattack and every planet in the Vininese +Confederacy has the same defense. One by one we can liberate the +planets of the Union in the same way. But the timing is vital, of +course--that's why you have to go to Vinin." + +"I had a vacation leave only three months ago. I can't get tourist +passage now without--" + +"I've considered that. You'll have to have your own space-ship." + +"Now wait a minute, Paul! It's one thing to borrow a surface jet but a +space-cruiser...!" + +"A cruiser, yes--not an old cargo ship. And you can handle that +without a crew." + +"It can't be done, Paul." Dirrul held his Glo-Wave nervously to the +end of a cigarette. "Besides, I want to think this through carefully +before I make up my mind." + +"A merchant ship made a crash landing at Barney's emergency field +yesterday," said Paul. "The damage was slight, but the pilot--unfortunately +the pilot is dead." Sorgel smiled enigmatically. "Barney's one of our best +men. He's been on the lookout for a chance like this for weeks. + +"You'll leave tonight. Avoid the regular space lanes. I'm guessing +you'll be on Vinin in a hundred days at the outside. On the fiftieth +day after that--exactly one hundred and fifty days from now--our +Vininese space-fleet must make a landing on Agron." + +"I'll be missed, Paul--they'll make inquiries." + +"And get no satisfactory answers." + +Pacing the floor, Dirrul asked tensely, "Does everyone in the Movement +know about this?" + +"The vote was made unanimously yesterday." + +"One of the others must have a vacation leave coming up. Send him. +We're not at war with Vinin. He could take one of the regular space +excursions." + +"I can't send a message in writing. It would be picked up by the +customs police. And you're the only one who can carry it verbally, +Eddie. You know the whole background because you worked with Glenna +and Hurd. You've been in the Movement longer than any of the others." + +"Why not go yourself, Paul?" + +"I can do more for the liberation if I stay here." + +"I wish I'd been at the meeting yesterday when the vote was taken. I'd +have liked to discuss it with the others before--" + +"Why so many questions, Eddie? Why so many doubts all of a sudden?" +Sorgel stood and faced Dirrul, holding his shoulders in a grip that +hurt. "Are you trying to back out? Maybe it wasn't a good thing to let +you play around with the science boys after all. Be honest with me, +Eddie. If you're not sure where you stand, say so. There's no room in +the Movement for traitors." + +When Dirrul said nothing Sorgel added in a voice that rang with +fervor, "You're the only man in the Movement who has had any training +as a space-pilot. It depends on you now--everything you've ever +dreamed of, everything Glenna and Hurd wanted. Can you forget what the +Agronian police did to Glenna? Is your courage any less than hers?" +Again Sorgel paused but still Dirrul said nothing. "The future of your +world depends on you, Eddie--don't let it down." + +"I'll go," Dirrul whispered. + +As Eddie made up his mind his internal tension relaxed and he was +filled with a sense of well-being. When he thought about it he +couldn't understand why he had hesitated--unless perhaps what Sorgel +suggested was true--that his contact with the Ad-Air faculty had +blunted and nearly perverted his established sense of values. + +An hour later Dirrul boarded the battered antiquated space cargo +carrier on the launching rack at Barney's emergency field. At the last +minute Sorgel pressed a curious disk into his hand. Made of a very +light metal and suspended from a short chain it was two inches in +diameter and covered with a complex grid design. + +"Put it around your neck before you land, Eddie. Don't remove under +any circumstances until you report. Give it to the Chief then. He'll +know I sent you because it's my own identification activator." Sorgel +clasped Dirrul's hand warmly. "When you land on Vinin take the North +Field below the capital. It's the HQ operational center. Use Wave-code +three-seven-three and they'll know you're friendly." + + +IV + +After the launching space-flight was normally a monotonous routine. +The course was charted by automatic navigators and the vast pattern of +interlocking machinery and safety devices was electronically +controlled by robot relays from the pilot master-panel. The chief +function of a trained space-pilot, aside from his services as a +diplomat, was to handle emergency situations for which automatic +responses could not be built into the machinery. + +Dirrul, however, could not depend a great deal upon the robot devices. +He had to avoid the well-traveled and well-charted commercial +space-lanes. He had to be constantly on the alert for the telltale +white of a police cruiser. A cargo carrier was the slowest ship in the +universe--Dirrul could outrun nothing, not even a playboy's sport +jalopy, and inspection by the customs police would have been +disastrous. + +He followed a roundabout route, keeping as far from inhabited planets +as he could, and he made good time. In ninety-five days he had reached +the mythical border in space, which divided the territory of the +Planetary Union and the Vininese Confederacy. + +He was almost at midpoint in the galaxy. On the glazed screen of his +space-map the mirrored pinpricks of sun systems glittered like +microscopic gems scattered over the curve of a gigantic black saucer. +Dirrul had never been so far from Agron. He felt a stifling sense of +insignificance. + +The meaning of time as he understood it was somehow overwhelmed by the +immensity of space. Now and yesterday, today and tomorrow, became a +single unity. Dirrul had a new sense of the past in terms of the +present. His mind groped for word symbols that he understood which +could crystalize the shadowy new concept filling his mind. + +New understanding seemed to arise from the space-map. Somewhere among +the glowing points of light was the Place of the Beginning, a single +planet called Earth. In the far-distant past Earthmen had made +themselves rational beings. But for centuries thereafter they had made +no further progress, apparently appalled by the audacity of such +presumptive evolution. They had fought through a long primitive period +of violence, erecting system on system and philosophy upon philosophy +to conceal, destroy and wipe out their own biological machinery. + +Then out of a final orgy of death and terror the Earthmen had grasped +the meaning and the responsibility of the Rational Potential. They had +understood the reality of being. + +Within a century after that they had conquered space. They had found +peoples like themselves occasionally--but more often races that had +followed different biological adaptations to different environments. +Wherever there seemed to be a spark of primitive rationality the +Earthmen had stayed and patiently taught the Rational Potential of +being, which they had learned for themselves only after such +bloodshed. + +The galaxy was theirs, in a sense, for it thought in the patterns of +Earthmen, although long ago their direct influence had waned. They +were a legend and an ideal, lost in the vastness of space, yet bound +fast into the cultures of all peoples. + +Yet somewhere the Earthmen must have failed, somewhere there must have +been a flaw in their teaching. Fifty years earlier, as the Agronians +measured time, the galaxy had been torn apart by war. The Agronians +had led one group of planets, the Vininese another. Planet after +planet was seared by deadly new weapons--world after world died in the +orange flame of gaudy atomic disintegration. Slowly the power of Vinin +crept across the sky until the Vininese ruled half the galaxy. + +Their first defeat had come unexpectedly. Their great space-armada +swung in on Agron, while the people crowded in terror in their flimsy +raid shelters. But the Vininese ships had vanished high in the air. +Not even debris had fallen on the planet. + +It was the first use of the Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had been a schoolboy +when the Agronian scientists announced their discovery. He remembered +the exciting thrill of pride, recalled how he and his schoolmates had +dreamed of destroying the Vininese with the new weapon. + +He remembered too the galling bitterness he had felt when the +scientists announced that they had made peace instead. + +They had had sound reasons, of course. They said the Beams had a +limited value. They could be used only defensively to girdle a single +planet in the stratospheric level of its atmosphere. Elsewhere they +were harmless. To compound the spectacular timidity, the scientists +had given away the secret to all comers, including the Vininese. They +had an argument for that particular idiocy too--if each planet could +protect itself so easily from all external attack its people could +freely decide for themselves their galactic allegiance or maintain +isolated independence. + +The Planetary Union had been formed and members of the Vininese +Confederacy invited to join it. Not a people anywhere in the +Confederacy made even tentative exploration of the offer while five +sun systems of the Union later joined the Vininese. That was the fact +that had ultimately prodded Dirrul into joining the Movement. + +Later, when he read the pamphlets brought from Vinin, he had clarified +his purposes. On the one hand lay the waste, the confusion, the +uncertainty of Agron. Scientists who talked forever of hypotheses and +were afraid to stand firm for any absolute truths--moralists who +qualified even the simplest standards of right and wrong--philosophers +who glorified a condition of eternal chaos which they called an open +mind. + +On the other hand lay the clean efficiency of Vinin. Scientific +certainty, and the progress that stemmed from it--the Space-dragon +instead of the Safe-sweet candy, a clear social organization in which +the individual was directed by established and inflexible principles. + +The whole of it was history as Dirrul had learned it, the chronology +of the past. As he looked on the star map of the galaxy, at midpoint +between the two great unions of planets, the meaning of the past began +to change. The chronology fell into a new perspective. + +Against the vast expanse of space time twisted into a new +relationship. Time and space began to equate with an exciting +synonymity. History was not the past, dead and numbered--history was +now. All things, all space, all time, were forever fixed at the +instant of now. + +In Dirrul's mind a tumult of facts trembled on the verge of a +startling new order--the atomic structure of all energy and the black +saucer of the galaxy. The violent spasms the Earthmen had suffered +before they found the Rational Potential and the devastation of the +Galactic War. + +But before he could assess such new values and verbalize the new +generalization the antiquated warning system of his ship twanged +tinnily. On the control panel screen he saw the trim outline of a +white Agronian police ship. A moment later the voice came over the +speaker, ordering him to state his permit registry and his +destination. + +Dragged so suddenly back to reality, Dirrul reacted in panic. It was a +routine inquiry. He might have bluffed his way clear. Instead he put +the cargo ship at top speed toward Vinin and watched helplessly while +the patrol cruiser closed relentlessly in. + +"Stand for search!" the voice commanded. + +When he did nothing the police shot a warning rocket over his bow. A +second shot struck the rear of the cargo ship and tore away a section +of landing gear. Swearing, Dirrul tried to maneuver out of range, and +to a certain extent he was successful. But piloting skill could not +make up for the cumbersome bulk of his unarmed ship. Two more blasts +hit him, collapsing the forward compartment and knocking out one power +tube. + +At the point of triumph, however, the police patrol turned away and +left Dirrul limping alone in space. For a moment he was puzzled. In +another ten minutes they could have boarded the cargo carrier and made +him prisoner. But he understood when he glanced again at the star +map--the Agronian police had pursued him far into Vininese territory. +If Vininese patrols had found them there it might have created an +unpleasant intergalactic incident. + +Dirrul made a quick survey of the damage. He had only one power tube +intact--beyond that, the cargo carrier was wrecked and he had on board +nothing with which to make repairs. He could move ahead only at +quarter-speed. + +Sorgel had put a time limit of one hundred days on the trip to Vinin. +Headquarters had to know by then of the Plan on Agron. Dirrul had five +days left and as the hours ran out he was still grinding slowly toward +the outer atmosphere of Vinin. Quite aware that proper security +demanded the message be delivered in person, Dirrul nonetheless faced +the alternative of losing everything if he waited. + +Logically weighing all factors, he concluded he would not be risking +too much, considering the stakes, if he used the teleray. Agron +monitors could pick it up, of course, and no doubt the outpost +stations were instructed to record all messages emanating from within +the territory of Vinin. But Dirrul knew the Air-Command. + +They wallowed in the same luxury and comfort enjoyed by the rest of +the Planetary Union. Outposts personnel, so far from the capital, +would be even less likely to take their duties seriously than Dirrul's +own unit. + +He tried to make the information enigmatic to the curious and at least +suggestive to the Vininese. He used the landing Wave-code 373. The +small red light on the control panel glowed and he knew he had +established contact. In carefully chosen Vininese he spoke into the +teleray mouthpiece. + +"Sorgel requires help for Glenna-Hurd Plan. Exactly fifty days, their +time." + +He repeated the message. As an afterthought he gave his own position +and asked for emergency repair assistance. The whole meaning hinged +upon the names of Glenna and Hurd. However, since they had been taken +to Vinin, they should already have outlined the Plan to the Vininese +command. If there were any doubts Headquarters could teleray for +clarification. When his speaker remained silent Dirrul assumed he had +been understood. + +He began to feel the pull of Vininese gravity, found himself in +trouble with his ship. He tried to keep the disabled cargo carrier +relatively stationary, so that the Vininese repair ships could locate +him. With only one power tube, however, maneuver was impossible. The +battered ship plunged out of control toward the planet. + +For an hour Dirrul fought with all the skill he knew. A thousand feet +above the surface he managed to force the ship to level off +temporarily. He had no time to seek a proper landing area and in any +case his gear had been shot away. + +There was a wide flat plain directly below him, in the distance the +towering mass of a large city silhouetted against a range of +mountains. Dirrul headed his ship for the open fields, setting the +safety devices for a crash landing. + +He hung around his neck the identification disk Sorgel had given him, +tucking it beneath his tunic. If he were hurt in the landing, a +Vininese might find him, and the disk would indicate that he was +important enough to be taken to the Headquarters Command. If his +teleray hadn't been understood there might still be a chance for him +to make his report in person. + +The ship crashed against the hard ground. Dirrul felt a wrenching pain +as the automatic safety arms pinioned him fast to cushion the fall, +before hurling him free of the blazing control room. After that he +lost consciousness. + + +V + +When Dirrul opened his eyes it was after dark but the triple moons of +Vinin were full and the landscape glowed with a yellowish light. He +had fallen into a ditch which ran beside a narrow, green-paved road. +In the distance, hidden in a dense copse of blue tree-like +vegetation, he saw the fragments of his wrecked ship. The purple grass +of Vinin spread richly all around him, damp and warm. At the bottom of +the ditch a reddish trickle of liquid washed over his feet. + +His throat ached with thirst. His tongue clung like sand to the roof +of his mouth. He knew that an Agronian could live in the Vininese +atmosphere but he was uncertain whether his body could assimilate the +native liquids. Yet to ease the torture he dipped his hand into the +red fluid and rubbed a few drops over his lips. The sting of salt +increased his torment. + +His body shuddered with pain as he pulled himself to his feet. He +crept a few feet along the green highway, and slowly his will mastered +his strength so that he could walk erect. He began to orient himself a +little. On the horizon he saw the skyline of the city he had observed +from the air and he knew he was following the road in the right +direction. + +But the distance was greater than he had estimated. He walked for an +hour and the city still seemed no closer. Nor had he seen any sign of +habitation where he might go for help, nothing except the towering +endless yellow stone wall which he had been following for more than +half an hour. There was neither gate nor break in the stone. Atop the +wall regularly spaced brackets held three naked wires in place. + +The wall probably guarded the estate of a Vininese official, he +decided. In that case the wires were either a warning device or a +charged trap against thieves. Dirrul was puzzled by the obvious +deduction. Such things were necessary on Agron to protect important +installations like the Beam Transmitters--but he had hardly expected +there would be a need for them on Vinin. Yet when he considered it +objectively, why not? Every system of society, no matter how ideal, +would produce inevitable malcontents--there were fools among the +Vininese, as there were among other peoples. + +Dirrul saw a towering gate in the wall and ran ahead eagerly, only to +fall in disappointment against the thick metal grille. The gate was +locked by a concealed device he could not locate. At a considerable +distance inside the wall was a second, higher than the first. Dirrul +saw a faint light at the inner gate and assumed there was a guard of +some sort stationed there. He tried with all his strength to cry out +for help but his throat was dust-dry. He could utter only a faint +whisper. + +When he tried to go on he was overcome with exhaustion. He staggered a +few feet beyond the gate and collapsed into the ditch. He lay face +down in the warm purple grass, his swollen tongue hanging limply from +his mouth. Imperceptibly the thirst began to diminish. After a +moment's speculation Dirrul understood why and crushed a handful of +the purple grass against his lips. It was warm and sweet--a comforting +liquid began to flow down his throat. He plunged his head luxuriously +into a thick mass of the weed, breathing deeply the sweet odor of the +crushed blades. + +A silent grey vehicle darted along the green road and jerked to a stop +in front of the gate. It came so quickly Dirrul had no time to call +out. The Vininese driver stood up and bawled orders at the inner gate. +A faint voice replied. The driver shouted again. The gate swung open +and the vehicle moved inside. + +Bewildered, Dirrul sat up, his head reeling. He understood a little +Vininese, not enough to translate exactly what had been said but +enough to make out a tantalizing half-meaning. The driver was +searching all the work camps, he had said, for the Agronian girl, +Glenna. He wanted to check something or other to see if she were here. + +Work camp? Dirrul decided he must have got the word wrong. Glenna and +Hurd might still be in hospitals but if they had recovered they would +be honored citizens of Vinin. Still--what sort of hospital would have +both double walls and alarm wires? + +Only an asylum for hopeless mental cases! The realization made Dirrul +cold with a terrible fear. Glenna--hopelessly insane! + +To save the Movement it was vital for Dirrul to make his report +immediately. What help could the Vininese get from a madwoman? He +sprang up and ran dizzily to the gate. Before he could shout for the +guard shadowy figures rose up around him, silently closing great hairy +hands over his mouth and dragging him back across the road. + +Tied and gagged Dirrul watched while the black-robed creatures worked +stealthily at the central bars of the gate with tiny blue-flaming +torches. Beneath their flowing capes they were beings like himself, +which indicated that they were either Agronian or Vininese, for by the +perverse chance of biological adaptation the people of the two planets +were so structurally similar that even intermarriage was possible. One +by one they cut out the bars until the span in the gate was wide +enough for them to work their way through. + +For a moment the band stood in the road, apparently talking. At least +their lips moved and their hands fluttered expressively but Dirrul +heard no sound. Reaching a decision they went through the gate in +single file, carrying long vicious weapons with them. Two of the +black-caped men came and stood guard on either side of Dirrul. + +Whatever these vandals were doing they were working in stealth and +fear and Dirrul realized their aim must be illegal. He fought to break +free of his bonds so that he might warn the loyal Vininese garrison. +The two guards shoved him back roughly. One of them grabbed Dirrul's +tunic in a claw grip and the cloth tore open, revealing Sorgel's +identification disk. + +Both guards bent over him, fingering the disk, talking soundlessly +with their facile fingers. Suddenly they jerked the disk off, snapping +the chain. At the same moment a rolling explosion from within the +wall shook the earth. + +Dirrul heard a great noise and a terrifying fear filled his mind. It +was a steady undiminishing fear that gripped every muscle of his body. +His throat was ice-cold. His heart pounded and gasped for breath. +Every nerve-end in his body quivered and his imagination was swamped +with a flood of shattering ephemeral horrors. + +Nothing could shake off the terror. Dirrul's skill with reason and +logic failed him. It was impossible to organize his thinking to combat +the sensory shock waves disrupting his thoughts. Logical patterns made +no sense. The very process of trying to build meaning into them--the +process of thinking itself--left him weak and trembling. + +The guards watched his terror for a moment, watched while he clung +close to the ground, trying to dig his fingers into it. Then one of +them laughed--a piercing discordant shriek, shrilling louder than the +din behind the wall. The second man, snarling viciously, kicked Dirrul +in the ribs. + +For Dirrul the blaze of pain was almost a relief. As his body +responded to it on a level of instinct, the chattering terror in his +mind diminished. A second blow on the head sent him reeling close to +the brink of unconsciousness. His perceptive reactions went slightly +out of focus. + +In a wavering mist he saw the black figures emerge from the gate, +dragging a dozen or more captives with them. A second explosion rocked +the earth and flames leaped high behind the yellow wall. In the glare +Dirrul recognized Glenna, struggling frantically in the arms of her +masked captor. + +Dirrul's memory after that was a vague patchwork of unrelated +episodes. He saw huge saddled reptilian bipeds dragged out of the +concealing brush. The captives were bound in the saddles and the +black-robed figures mounted behind them. Later two of the men pulled +Dirrul up and tied him across a saddle too. + +At a sickening gallop the caravan moved away from the green highway, +striking out over the purple plain. For a while Dirrul lost rational +control of sensation. He felt but without understanding. His brain +pulsed in a continuous terror that seemed to resolve itself into +sound--a continuous high-pitched scream coming from within his own +mind. His body throbbed with pain and nausea wrenched emptily at the +muscles of his stomach. But he could not sort out the feelings, +classify them or adjust to them. + +At the edge of the plain the caravan turned up a steep rocky trail +which led into the ragged range of mountains banked behind the +Vininese city. They came to a stop in a stony ravine, concealed +beneath a tangle of gigantic purple-leafed vines. + +Dirrul's captors dismounted and removed their black cloaks, hiding +them among the rocks. Underneath they wore the warm gray skintight +workers' clothing of Vinin. The majority left their animals tethered +to the roots of the vine and began the steep descent on foot to the +city. Only three remained behind to guard the prisoners. + +They built a small fire and prepared food, serving the hot sweet +chunks of white meat in large wicker baskets. As soon as Dirrul +discovered that he could stomach the food he wolfed his share +hungrily. The guards brought him more. He felt better. Except for the +sing-song ringing in his head he might have been able to think clearly +enough to evaluate his own position. + +But that could be done later. He was overcome by an immense +drowsiness. He relaxed and slept. + + +VI + +A shrill scream woke him with a start of horror. His captors had taken +him from his saddle and propped him against a mound of rocks, along +with the other prisoners. His muscles were numb and dead, so limp it +was almost impossible for him to turn his head. Faintly the whirring +terror whispered in his mind. + +Dirrul's eyes focused slowly on the clearing. One of the prisoners had +been carried there, close to the fire. It was Glenna. Two of her +captors held her while the third bent over her head, probing her ear +with a sharp instrument. His arm moved. Glenna screamed and fainted. +For a moment Dirrul saw the side of her face smeared with a spreading +stain of blood. Then nausea swept over him. When he opened his eyes +again the three men were working over another prisoner at the fire. + +Vaguely Dirrul knew he had to escape. He forgot the Movement--he +thought of nothing any loftier than his own personal survival. The +idea was elemental, built upon the simplest sort of observation and +hypothesis. + +Yet it came slowly and painfully, as if he had just tried to +understand after one reading the Cranmor-Frasher Theory of Diminishing +Corelatives. As he verbalized the conclusion two things happened--the +drug-like languor in his muscles began to disperse and the shrilling +note of terror burst up loud in his mind once more. + +Two of the men brought their last victim back from the fire and laid +his body on the stones close to Dirrul. Dirrul feigned sleep when they +stood over him. One of them prodded him with the tip of a dusty +boot--then they both laughed. + +They went back to the fire and talked soundlessly to their companions, +holding up the identification disk which had been ripped from Dirrul's +neck hours before. That amused them briefly, until one of the three +snatched the disk and hurled it toward the mouth of the ravine in +violent anger. + +The three men pulled thick white skins together near the fire and +crept into them. Dirrul waited until he was sure they slept. It was +the only chance he would have to escape, but when he tried to creep +away his hands collapsed from sheer terror. The crying fear in his +mind was so loud his head seemed to vibrate physically with the +sound. + +Thought was impossible. Judgment and decision were impossible. If he +tried to consider even a problem as simple as the safest means of +passing the dying fire--reason failed him. He could weigh nothing +critically--he could not consider probable courses of rational action. + +Nonetheless he inched forward. It took all the courage and stamina he +possessed. Gradually a strange and foggy understanding formed in his +brain. The terror seemed to die if he planned nothing, merely +responding without thought to the instinctive urge to escape. Let +instinct do the trick then. + +Detached from the control panel of his cerebral cortex his body +mechanism functioned perfectly. It was like a space-ship smoothly +piloted by its automatic navigators. Dirrul gave himself over to his +own built-in stimulus-response relays and the screeching fear +shriveled and died. + +Calm and unhurried he walked past the fire and the sleeping men. As +calmly he searched the mouth of the ravine for Sorgel's disk. When he +found it he stuffed it into the pocket of his tunic and strode +confidently along the trail that led down from the hills. + +It was dawn. In the pink morning light he could see the Vininese city +at his feet, neat, clean, well-blocked streets and towering buildings +of black stone. On the outskirts were the circular space-fields and +the long low flat-roofed interplanetary freight depots. Farther away, +dotting the countryside at regular intervals, were curious +block-shaped windowless structures surrounded by double walls. + +Dirrul had never seen anything like them before but, through a process +of judicial elimination, he decided they must be the Vininese Beam +Transmitters. The defense of Vinin was remarkably thorough, far +surpassing anything of a similar nature on Agron. + +It came to him with something of a shock that he was thinking +rationally once more. His mind was completely clear. He felt ashamed +of the foolish, groundless terror that had unnerved him in the ravine. +He tried to understand what had happened to him but it was beyond +analysis. In retrospect he realized that the danger had been less than +what he faced on any normal day in the Air-Command emergency +maintenance service. + +The only logical explanation was the food they had given him. It must +have been heavily drugged with a new poison known to the Vininese. +Dirrul was tempted to go back and rescue Glenna, if she were still +alive after the torture to which she had been subjected. But he knew +it was more important for him to contact Vininese Headquarters first. +He had a message to deliver. Glenna herself would have wanted that. + +In two hours Dirrul was on the plain again. All the suffering of the +past few hours was gone. The plentiful purple grass had quenched his +thirst and surprisingly eased his hunger as well. He felt keenly alert +and alive. The sun was warm, the air was balmy. He was on Vinin. + +Spiritually he had come home, to the thing he believed in. Not many +men had such opportunity to realize their dreams of perfection. To cap +the triumph Dirrul knew it might still be possible to make his report +and save the Movement on Agron. + +From the top of a purple-swathed knoll he looked down across a +twisting red stream toward the suburbs of the city. Magnificent +black-stone villas, surrounded by stylized gardens, were on both sides +of the green highway. + +Further on, close to the city, were the crowded workers' quarters, +behind them, hidden in a faint mist, the rectangular masses of public +buildings reaching up toward the stars. This was as Paul Sorgel had so +often described it. Such grandeur could only belong to the capital +city of the Vininese Confederacy. + +Under the brow of the knoll Dirrul saw one of the stone block +buildings within its protective double walls. A huge trumpet-like +transmitter was exposed at the top of the structure. In some ways it +resembled the Beam Transmitters on Agron but the differences were so +striking Dirrul knew it was a totally new device--possibly a more +efficient variation invented by the Vininese. The faint hum of +machinery and the regular movement of the sending tube indicated that +the machine was running--but for what purpose Dirrul could only guess. + +The yard between the two walls was patrolled by a smartly disciplined +score of Vininese. Dirrul considered going to them to ask for +transportation to the city but changed his mind. It was very possible +that the installation was secret. The guards might have had +instructions to dispose immediately of any intruder. On the whole it +seemed wiser to go a little farther to one of the walled villas. + +Dirrul walked half a thousand feet along the green highway and turned +up the drive leading toward one of the sprawling mansions. As he +passed the portals of the open gate an alarm bell clanged--seconds +later five Vininese infantry surrounded him, prodding him into the +house with their gleaming weapons. In precise Vininese, carefully +enunciated, Dirrul tried to explain what he wanted--but the guards +made no reply, merely staring at him with cold glazed eyes, +comprehending nothing. + +They threw him roughly into a dark room, where a slim Vininese waited +in a lounge chair. As Dirrul's eyes grew accustomed to the faint light +he saw that the Vininese held a snub-nosed rocket-pistol. + +"Your permit?" the Vininese asked languidly. + +"Yesterday I came here from--" + +"Then you have no permit. I must shoot you, of course." + +"Sir, I have a message from Agron! You must take me to Headquarters!" + +"Oh, you're a tourist. But this is a prohibited area. From the dust +on your tunic, I take it you have done a great deal of walking. A +pity, my friend--naturally you've seen the transmitters." + +"We have them on Agron but it is of no importance." + +The Vininese threw back his head and laughed, "Oh, no--of no +importance--you have seen nothing!" + +"I do not understand you," Dirrul said desperately. "My Vininese is +very poor. But you must help me. I bring news of the Movement on Agron +and time is short." Anxiously Dirrul plunged into his story, tripping +repeatedly over the involved syntax of Vinin to his host's obvious +amusement. + +Eventually, however, he made his point, for the tall Vininese said, +"Then you must be the agent who sent the teleray report. We've been +looking for you, sir. We feared, after you crashed, that you might +have been taken by the vagabonds." Still holding Dirrul centered in +the gunsight the Vininese picked up a portable teleray and asked for +Headquarters. + +While he waited he added, "You must forgive this reception, my friend +from Agron. We have been having so much trouble with the vagabonds +lately we must all go armed. Here in the transmission area we must be +particularly alert." + +His tone was warm but the gun never wavered. When he made his +connection he spoke rapidly into the mouthpiece, too rapidly for +Dirrul to work out an accurate translation. It seemed, however, that +the conversation was centered around the transmitters rather than the +report Dirrul had to make. The Vininese finished the dialogue and +smiled engagingly at Dirrul. + +"I am to take you to the capital, my friend," he said. "They are +preparing a reception for you. You are a hero of Vinin, to have braved +so much for the cause." + +The Vininese came forward suddenly and pulled aside the torn cloth at +the throat of Dirrul's tunic. + +"But you--you must have a disk!" The Vininese was suddenly frightened. +"There is no tourist stamp on your arm. I don't understand." + +"Paul Sorgel loaned me his when I left Agron." Dirrul felt in his +tunic pocket. "He said I was to give it to the Chief when I made my +report but if you must see it now--" + +"No, no--by all means, keep it." The tall man's voice was pleasant +again. "I was simply afraid that someone might have come who--but it +is nothing. I am weary from all this vigilance against the vagabonds. +It is hard to think realistically." + +"I was surprised to see so much lawlessness on Vinin." + +"Then you're very naive, my friend. There's an element like that among +all people, although I must admit ours here have suddenly become +excessively active. Their attacks are so systematic and so +well-organized! Hardly a night passes without trouble at a work camp +or a transmitter station. + +"Your transmitters are different from ours. Have you developed an +improvement in technique?" + +"They are, curious, aren't they? You must ask the Chief to tell you +all about them." The Vininese chuckled with delight. "I wouldn't want +to spoil his surprise by letting you in on the secret first." + + +VII + +The Vininese drove Dirrul to the city in a heavily armed surface car. +Two of the infantrymen sat behind them, their rocket guns ready on +their knees. It was testimony to the efficiency and organization of +Vinin that such a finished reception could be prepared on such short +notice. Dirrul's first intimation of the scope of the ceremony came +when they stopped at a school to be cheered by the pupils. + +Rank upon rank of boys and girls lined up smartly behind the high wire +fence. They ranged in ages from tots, barely able to stand, to young +people in late adolescence. Except for the round metal disks, which +all of them wore, they were completely naked. + +"Clothing breeds such false modesty and so many foolish frustrations," +Dirrul's host explained. "On Vinin every child is reared in completely +objective equality. As soon as we take them from their parents--about +the time when they're first learning to walk--we give them +identification disks. Before that, when they're in the instinct +period, the disks aren't necessary. + +"After their basic education we classify them. The leader-class is +issued permanent disks and the others give theirs up. The adjustment +is something very severe but on the whole the casualties are light." +Suddenly the Vininese seized Dirrul's hand and looked into his eyes. +"I trust you follow me, my friend?" + +"Yes," Dirrul answered. Reason led him to a conclusion as he looked at +the massed children, a conclusion he could not bring himself to face. +He felt a new kind of fear, as cold as the depths of space and as +devoid of emotion. Instead of trusting to his own logic Dirrul +struggled to find a flaw in it--for a man cannot easily watch his +dream turn to dust in his hands. + +They drove on into the city. Rows of men and women in working clothes +lined the streets, cheering wildly in unison. Crossed Vininese flags +were draped between the buildings and brave-colored streamers danced +in the wind. + +"A reception is good for them," the Vininese said. "We need heroes +occasionally. It's fortunate you came when you did. The vagabonds have +had a disturbing effect on morale and it's impossible to suppress the +news entirely." + +The vehicle stopped before the towering government building. Dirrul +was led up a flight of stone steps to a wide porch overlooking the +mass of cheering upturned faces in the public square. He stood +motionless while speeches were made and gay ribbon was draped around +his neck. The air shook with bright explosions--a huge flag was +unfurled over the porch--band music began to blare and a tidal wave of +precision-trained Vininese infantry wheeled into the square. + +An official touched Dirrul's arm. "You must take the salute of our +work-leaders now." + +Dirrul was pushed back against the stone railing as an orderly mob +filed past, blank-faced and chattering with meaningless pleasure. Many +of them pressed forward to touch his hand before the guards tactfully +hurried them on. When the organized confusion was at its height a tiny +square of paper was slipped into his hand. + +Dirrul had no idea which of the mob had given it to him and he dared +not glance at it. But he managed to hide the paper in the band of his +tunic. + +Hour by hour the throng filed past, endless and meaningless. It was an +agony for Dirrul. For the first time he looked into the face of his +dream and saw the reality of Vinin--order, discipline, efficiency--and +utter blankness. Unhappily he recalled one of Dr. Kramer's lectures. + +"... Defiance of convention, confusion, frustration, stubbornness--yes +and a touch of the neurotic too--these goad the individual into +solving problems. And problem solving is progress. An orderly society +that asks no questions of itself, a society that has no doubts, is a +dying society...." + +Dirrul understood the professor at last. He looked squarely at the +fact of what he was, a traitor to his own people, on the verge of +betraying them. He had been wonderfully deluded by his own +self-deception. + +But the job wasn't quite finished. The Vininese would not have gone to +take Glenna from the hospital if they had understood his teleray. Let +them splurge on their reception! He was unimpressed. When the time +came for questions to be answered he would conveniently forget why he +had been sent to Vinin. Nothing they could do would drag it out of +him. + +The crowd thinned and Dirrul was taken inside the building, where his +Vininese host awaited him. Sighing deeply the Vininese stood up. +"These public displays do take so much of our time," he said, "but +it's over now." This last seemed to amuse him and he repeated it +softly before adding, "The Chief's ready to see you." + +Remembering the note and the flimsy possibility that it might suggest +a way out, Dirrul answered quickly, "But, sir, I really ought to clean +up first." + +"You Agronians have such weird notions of propriety!" + +"I would feel more presentable to your Chief if--if I could have a +bath. Perhaps I might even borrow a change of clothing." + +The Vininese fingered his chin thoughtfully. "It might be more +amusing. Yes, the Chief can wait a few minutes longer for you to +satisfy your vanity." + +He summoned a blank-faced liveried servant and asked for a clean +worker's suit for Dirrul. Then he took Dirrul to the wall tube and +they shot noiselessly to an upper floor. As he left Dirrul at the +door of a luxurious suite, the Vininese said, "When you change your +clothes, my friend, don't forget to take the disk out of your tunic. +The Chief will want it when you see him." + +When he was sure he was alone Dirrul spread open the note. It was a +crude drawing of a hearing aid and beneath it a cryptic sentence +written in Agronian, + + _I lost mine and so has Glenna now._ + +The signature was unmistakably Hurd's but the note made no sense. +Hurd's hearing was as sound as Dirrul's. He had never used a +mechanical device--how could he have lost it then? _So has +Glenna_--that must be the key. Hurd somehow knew about the vagabond +raiding party that had rescued Glenna from the mental hospital. He +must have escaped from the Vininese earlier himself. He was probably +hiding somewhere in the capital. + +Working on this hypothesis Dirrul made a guess that the thing Hurd had +lost was his illusion about the Vininese system. The hearing aid +symbolized what Hurd had been told about it, as opposed to the reality +which he saw with his own eyes. + +But such an interpretation didn't ring entirely true. It was too +involved for an idea which could have been better expressed in four +words--_I know the truth_. Tossing the note aside Dirrul turned on the +water in the shower room and thoughtfully disrobed. + +As he threw his tunic aside a violent paralyzing terror seized his +mind, making his head sing with a screeching vibration. Blindly he +snatched up the tunic in order to stuff the cloth into his mouth so he +would not cry out. But as soon as he pressed it against his skin his +terror vanished, like a siren suddenly stilled. + +The pattern of the real truth fell into place then. Now he understood +the power of Vinin. Experimentally he took Sorgel's disk out of his +tunic and laid it on a table. As soon as he did so the blinding +nameless horror flamed up. When he held the disk again the exhausting +emotion vanished. + +Looking back Dirrul saw an abundance of evidence that might have given +him a clue, had he not spent so much mental effort bolstering his +illusion of Vinin. There was the circumstance of his own unrelenting +terror when he was without the disk in the ravine--the painful sight +of his captors puncturing the prisoners' eardrums--the soundless talk +of the vagabonds, like the lip-reading of the deaf--the bleak +orderliness of the cheering mobs--and, most obvious of all, the +strange transmitters atop the well-guarded stone block-buildings. + +It was all there, even to the final cruelty to the children. What was +it the Vininese had said? "The adjustment is sometimes very severe but +on the whole the casualties are light." And the very young, before +they were taken from their parents, didn't need disks because they +were in what the Vininese had called "the instinct period." + +Dirrul knew what Hurd's drawing meant. Somehow Hurd had lost his +hearing, perhaps as a result of the beating the police had given him +on Agron. In any case only the deaf could think rationally on Vinin. +Hurd was telling Dirrul to shatter his own sense of hearing if he +still had the will to think and act for himself. The nightmare Dirrul +had witnessed in the ravine was not torture but the bravery of +desperate men attempting to rescue rational minds. + +The Rational Potential--the gift of the legendary Earthmen! Like the +processes of thought itself it could never be wiped out by argument or +reason once it was understood. The Earthmen had wasted centuries +trying to undo their own evolved rationality before they realized it +could not be done. Now, on a higher level in another plane, the +Vininese were struggling to submerge the Earthmen's second achievement +of the Rational Potential. + +It was done by their transmitters. A wave of some sort--probably +subsonic or supersonic--continuously filled the Vininese atmosphere. +The Vininese who wore the disks were protected against it. The others +succumbed if they retained their hearing. As Dirrul himself had +discovered in the ravine, when he did not consciously think the terror +diminished. + +All Vininese children were given a basic education. It built up their +automatic responses, established correct stimulus-response behavior +patterns. Then, for the masses, the protective disks were eliminated +and the screeching fear pounded at them until the processes of +creative thinking were destroyed, leaving a backlog of malleable and +obedient habit patterns. The problem solving was done for them by +their masters. + +The Vininese Confederacy--half the galaxy--was peopled by billions +upon billions of robot races, ruled by a handful of men with absolute +power. To that Dirrul would have betrayed his planet! To slavery and +to the destruction of the Rational Potential, all for the slippery +dream of orderliness and efficiency which masqueraded as progress. + +He could save Agron today--but for how long? Sorgel would bewitch +countless other discontented Agronian fools. The Movement would try +again and one day the Vininese space fleet would penetrate the +Agronian Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had to escape. He had to go home and +tell the truth about Vinin. + +And it was impossible. He was completely trapped with no visible way +out for himself. + + +VIII + +Dirrul stood in front of the metal-surfaced reflector, fingering the +cap of his ear. To survive as a thinking being he must deafen himself. +Yet he hesitated. Self-inflicted violence was the negation of the +Rational Potential. + +Then, slowly, he developed a new idea. He could use the power of +Vinin, to save Agron if not himself! + +There came a knock on his door. Dirrul drew on his tunic as a stranger +entered the room. + +"The Chief is impatient--you must come at once." + +Durril was led through a metal-roofed tunnel into a wide sunny +transparent-walled room at the top of the building. The door closed +behind him. He was alone with a tall smooth-faced man, exotically +costumed in a tight black suit crusted with white jewels and framed by +a white cloak thrown loosely around his shoulders. He sat back of a +tremendous desk--behind his chair was a tilted panel of dials, levers +and tiny glowing lights, running the length of the room under the +ceiling-high window. + +"It is always a pleasure to welcome a hero of the Vininese +Confederacy," the Chief said without getting up. His tone was slow, +tired, emotionless. His eyes were without expression. "May I ask your +name?" + +"Dirrul--Edward Dirrul." + +"And you come from Agron with a message from our agent," he said, +speaking Agronian. "So much we got from your teleray. In fifty +days--actually forty-nine from now, by your time--your local Movement +will have use for a Vininese space-fleet. I have already dispatched +Sub-units B and C. Now, if you will give me the details of your Plan I +can code-wave them to my commander." + +"There's been a mistake, sir. What I really meant when I sent the +message was--" + +"So you've discovered the truth." The Chief's hand darted toward a +cubicle of his desk and he held a metal-barreled weapon aimed steadily +at Dirrul. "These things are always so tedious. Give me your disk." + +"Of course," Dirrul agreed readily but as he felt in his pocket the +Chief gestured negatively with his weapon. + +"No, keep it." After a pause he added, "You're certain that you know, +Dirrul?" + +"I've seen the transmitters." + +"Then why aren't you afraid? Why do you consent so readily? The others +are always terrified--they'll confess to anything if I promise to let +them keep the disks. Have you ever heard the sound, Dirrul? Do you +really know what it's like?" + +"You want information from me. You have no chance of getting it if you +deprive me of the ability to think." + +"Granted. And otherwise?" + +"You won't get it either." + +The Chief sighed wearily. "You are simply trading one romantic +illusion for another. You have somehow convinced yourself that one +man--one lone Agronian--can hold out against us. Let me tell you a +little about our system, Dirrul, so you'll understand how futile it is +to waste your time and mine like this." Not a trace of feeling came +into his voice. He sounded slightly bored, reciting a matter-of-fact +chronology of statistics. + +"As you have guessed we create our leader-class on each of our planets +by protecting them from the sound waves with the disks. If scattered +groups among the general public should ever gain immunity--as far as +we know only idiots and the deaf can do that--they could never carry +out a successful revolt. The only way would be for the transmitter +stations to be silenced. + +"However, every unit operates independently on its own power. We have +thousands of them on every planet. All but one could be destroyed, and +that one transmitter would still be enough to control the planet. You +begin to see, I think, that any kind of resistance is foolish. In time +you can be made to do as I ask. Unfortunately, we have no time to +spare. + +"Perhaps you're thinking that outsiders--tourists, let's say--could +come here and overthrow us. All rational beings in the galaxy are +subject to the same physical laws. They still must hear and if they do +they're powerless. + +"Besides, our secret is remarkably well-kept. The tourists and +merchants come to our planet in droves. They notice nothing--because +of the amusing idiosyncrasy of Vininese customs men, who are required +to stamp the hand of each visitor with an identification mark. The +coloring material is atomically constituted to act as a temporary disk +while the tourist is among us. He notices nothing amiss. He sees what +we want him to see--he goes home favorably impressed--and by that time +the mark has worn away. You get the general picture, Dirrul? Nothing +can ever defeat us." + +"Nothing but yourselves." + +"Romantic nonsense! Let me show you what I can do, Dirrul, even when +you wear a disk. I think you'll bargain then." The Chief turned a +little to face the panel behind his desk, feeling over the dials while +he kept Dirrul framed in his gunsight. + +"The young man you went to this morning for help is a sadist. The +reception was his idea--so was your bath. He likes to have our +traitors--and you are a traitor, of course, to your own people--he +likes to have them discover the truth before we take their disks away. +It's an exquisite torture but in your case annoying, since it puts you +in a position to bargain. Now it occurs to me that your host should be +disciplined for his bungling." + +The Chief pointed to the surface of his desk. "Watch the screen, +Dirrul." An opaque rectangle glowed with light, slowly came into +focus, and revealed a large mirrored lounge, where a number of +official Vininese stood talking and drinking. The Chief twisted a +dial, pulled a lever and one of the Vininese collapsed, writhing on +the glassy floor in violent agony. + +The screen went blank. + +"I have not only decontrolled your friend's disk," the Chief explained +blandly, "but I have doubled his receptability to sound. I can +continue the treatment until he goes mad--or I can snap it off and let +it serve as a warning. + +"From this panel here I control every disk-wearer on Vinin--including +yourself, Dirrul. You understand, I think, that there can never be +any disloyalty among our leaders--they're consciously aware of the +consequences. And revolt in the ranks is physically impossible. We're +safe, you see, even from ourselves." + +Once again there was a slight trace of emotion in the weary voice. "No +doubt you also gather, Dirrul, who is the real ruler of Vinin. There +are a hundred thousand of us, more or less, scattered throughout the +Confederacy. All right--tell me what I need to know. If your Plan +succeeds I'll deputize you for Agron when we annex it." + +Suddenly Dirrul saw the answer. His heart leaped with joy and it was +difficult to keep the feeling out of his voice when he said, "You have +been talking to me in my own tongue." Carefully he inched toward the +desk. "And understanding me." + +"Entirely beside the point." + +"Not entirely. You hear what I say--which means that you must wear a +disk too." + +Dirrul sprang across the desk. At the same time the Chief raised his +weapon and fired. Flame seared Dirrul's cheek. A red mist welled +before him and he reeled back against the control panel as the Chief +fired again. The second explosion was so close it seemed to be within +his own mind. + +The Chief's hand clawed at Dirrul's tunic, ripping the disk away from +him. Recoiling in anticipation of the dread shock wave, Dirrul hurled +himself at the Chief. + +But instead of the screaming terror he felt nothing. An inexplicable +force seemed to close in on him. His head spun dizzily but his mind +still functioned. He smashed his fist into the face of the Chief and +the body sagged to the floor. + +Dirrul stood bewildered, looking at his hand. A mass of flesh-like +material, torn from the Chief's face, clung to his knuckles. Dirrul +bent over the man and touched his skin. It crumbled under pressure and +the lifelike purple coloring ran. Dirrul peeled the putty away until +he could make out the shape of the pale wrinkled very aged face +beneath. + +Sickened he moved away--for he had seen the ruler of Vinin. + + +IX + +Dirrul backed into the desk, knocking a fragile statuette to the +floor. When it lay shattered at his feet he understood why he could +still plan and reason, even though the disk was gone. The Chief's +shot, fired so close to his head, had deafened him either temporarily +or permanently. + +Dirrul ran to the control panel and twisted dials frantically, pulling +every lever he could find. He had no idea what he was doing and it +didn't matter so long as something happened. If he could decontrol +even half the disks on Vinin it would create enough confusion to cover +his own escape. + + * * * * * + +Twenty-five days later the Space-dragon shot up from the space-field +which was hidden among the stony Vininese mountain ravines. As it cut +through the stratosphere Dirrul's bonds were released. He felt +exhausted and empty. His last memory was of talking to Hurd on the +mountain trail. Beyond that was a blank. He looked up at Glenna, as +beautiful as ever but somehow more mature. + +"You're all right now, Eddie?" she asked in a loud voice that betrayed +her deafness. + +"I think so. Where are you taking me?" + +She touched her ears, still crudely bandaged. "You must say everything +very slowly, Eddie. I haven't yet learned to read lips as well as Hurd +does." + +"Where are we going?" + +"Back to Agron." + +"We have no right, Glenna--we're traitors!" + +"We have a duty to tell them the truth. What they do with us doesn't +matter." + +He shook his head weakly, still lost in his stupor. "Tell me what +happened, Glenna--I can't remember anything." + +"You got out of the government building and stole a Space-dragon. Then +you came looking for us. Just after you met Hurd your hearing began to +come back and of course you lost control of yourself. Hurd wanted to +break your eardrums but I wouldn't let him. + +"Since we had a space-ship at last we could get away from Vinin and I +knew you'd be all right when we did. But it took us a month to steal +enough fuel. Something you did in the government building paralyzed a +lot of the leaders for a while but by the time we got around to +looking for fuel the others had restored order again." + +The door of the control room slid open and Hurd dropped down on the +bunk beside Dirrul. "Feeling better?" he asked anxiously. + +"I guess so. The whole picture's beginning to come back." + +Hurd sighed with relief and his face relaxed. + +Dirrul asked slowly, "How did you get away from them, Hurd?" + +"I lost my hearing in the beating Sorgel gave me on Agron." + +"_Sorgel!_" Dirrul repeated unbelievingly. It was the last illusion to +go and for that reason the most painful. "Then it wasn't the Agronian +police--" + +"Of course it was Sorgel," Glenna said quietly. "He had to get rid of +us because we wouldn't go along with him on the idea of a Vininese +invasion. I tried so hard to tell you, Eddie, but I couldn't because +of the drugs they gave us." + +"The Vininese never knew I was deaf," Hurd went on. "It's easy enough +to escape from a work camp when you can think for yourself. The +Vininese resistance found me in the hills and I've been working with +them ever since. A pitiful band of the deaf, fighting insurmountable +odds to win back the human dignity of half the galaxy! But they won't +turn tail and run and their numbers grow every time they raid a work +camp." + +"Were you with the men who kidnapped Glenna?" + +"We were all out that night, trying to keep watch on the camps near +the capital. We didn't know which one Glenna was in but I was sure the +Vininese would try to reach her after they got your teleray message. +We counted on the Vininese leading us to her and we knew we had to +kidnap her first if we were to keep them from learning about the Plan +on Agron. + +"Unfortunately I wasn't with the group that picked you up, Eddie. They +thought they had taken a Vininese leader and it seemed such a suitable +punishment to take your disk away and let you hear the sound for a +while. Later--after you'd escaped--when the others described your +Air-Command uniform I took a chance and sent my note." + +He helped Dirrul to his feet. "You'll have to take over from here on +in, Eddie. You said you knew how to pilot this thing. I figured out a +take-off but that's as far as I can go." + +"Sorgel's pilot showed me once," he said. "What I don't remember I'll +improvise. He said a Space-dragon could make the run in thirty days. +This baby's got to do it in less than twenty-five if we're going to +beat the Vininese fleet to Agron." + +"You didn't tell them the Plan, did you, Eddie?" + +"No." + +"The Vininese won't land without instructions." + +"Sorgel may get up enough courage to send a teleray code. We can't +take any chances either." + +Dirrul drove himself without rest. He cut every corner he knew, used +every trick of navigational skill he had ever learned. Nonetheless it +was twenty-eight days before the little ship hung in the air over the +Agronian capital. + +His heart sank. On the space-field, in neat ranks, the Vininese +space-fleet was drawn up in proud review. The planet had fallen! +Dirrul made his decision instinctively. + +The Space-dragon wheeled and swept low over the field, its vicious +guns blazing. The yellow clouds of destruction swept up toward the +sky--the little ship was caught in the blazing flame. The +interplanetary freight sheds loomed ahead. And the world exploded, +falling apart into a soothing painless silence. + + * * * * * + +Dirrul opened his eyes and looked at the neutral blue of a hospital +ceiling. Gradually he became conscious of Dr. Kramer, seated by the +bed. + +"Dr. Kramer!" Dirrul whispered. "Then everything's all right." + +"If by everything you mean your companions, yes. There's even a chance +we can restore the girl's hearing." + +"And the Vininese?" + +"Defeated." + +"Dr. Kramer, we've got to destroy the Confederacy! I saw their +transmitters--I know how their system works." + +"Hush, Edward--I promised not to excite you. We know about it." + +"Then how could you have been foolish enough to let them land?" + +"It seemed a pity not to give a few of their people another chance. +It's working out quite nicely too." + +"I don't follow you, Dr. Kramer." + +"Long ago we became interested when tourists told us about the curious +block-buildings on Vinin. Our physics boys worked out an ingenious +device for analyzing their atmosphere. It was a little machine +concealed in the lining of an ordinary air-freight crate, as I recall. + + * * * * * + +"A machine is quite objective, Edward--and Customs men don't stamp +freight crates with the negative adaptors. When we learned that a +Vininese fleet was going to land here we simply issued insulating +helmets to all our people and let them come. As soon as we destroyed +their portable transmitters the Vininese army proved quite adaptable +to a new environment." + +"Then--I did nothing to help when I destroyed their fleet?" + +"Unfortunately you wounded two of our mechanics." + +"I'm a traitor, Dr. Kramer. Even when I try I can't redeem myself!" + +"Only on Vinin can you betray an external absolute, Edward. To an +Agronian all objective concepts are relative to the subjective +interpretations made by each individual. You can only be a traitor to +yourself." + +"The words are pleasant to say to a sick man but the fact remains--I +would have betrayed Agron." + +"But you didn't. Why not?" + +"When I saw what their efficiency really meant--" + +"You changed your mind before you knew about the transmitters?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you're libeling yourself. Don't trap yourself in another +self-delusion, Edward. All that's happened is that you've grown up." + +Dirrul said slowly, feeling for words that would express the idea as +he felt it, "When I was in the center of the galaxy, looking out on +space, I almost grasped a new concept but I lost it when the Agronian +patrol attacked me. It's coming back. + +"Time and space seem to be one and the same. Neither exists as an +objective reality. There is no past and no future--all of it occurs +eternally in the instant of my own being. I am everything and +nothing--infinity and a speck lost in space." + +"Thus you discover the Rational Potential," Dr. Kramer smiled. "I +think you're ready for the space-pilot promotional, Edward." After a +pause Dr. Kramer inquired, "Did you see the Chief of Vinin, Edward?" + +"Then you know about that too?" + +"I've guessed--it seems likely." + +"I scraped off the putty and the face color. Beneath it he was an +Earthman. A hundred thousand of them rule the Confederacy." + +"All time and space, forever occurring for each of us in the instant +of now! Yes, he would be an Earthman, Edward--quite logically. Both +good and evil begin with the same source. Both have the same Rational +Potential. The act of being has always been the same struggle of +constant forces, between the absolute and the relative. The time never +changes nor the event but merely the passing illusion of place." + +Shaking his head the chubby professor departed. Dirrul closed his +eyes, at peace with himself. + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Instant of Now, by Irving E. Cox, Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INSTANT OF NOW *** + +***** This file should be named 31651.txt or 31651.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/6/5/31651/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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