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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/31652-h.zip b/31652-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cafc3da --- /dev/null +++ b/31652-h.zip diff --git a/31652-h/31652-h.htm b/31652-h/31652-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c223330 --- /dev/null +++ b/31652-h/31652-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1884 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Conquest Over Time, by Michael Shaara + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 100%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.u {text-decoration:underline; } + +.g {letter-spacing: 2px; } + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Conquest Over Time, by Michael Shaara + +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: Conquest Over Time + +Author: Michael Shaara + +Release Date: March 15, 2010 [EBook #31652] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONQUEST OVER TIME *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe November 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="sidenote"><i>"Now this here planet," he said cautiously, "is whacky in +a lot of ways. First of all they call it Mert. Just plain Mert. And +they live in houses strictly from Dickens, all carriages, no sewers, +narrow streets, stuff like that." But that wasn't all.... Travis, in +reaching Diomed III before any others, found himself waging a one-man +fight against more than this; he was bucking the strangest way of life +you have ever heard of!</i></div> +<p> </p> + +<h1>conquest over time</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>by ... Michael Shaara</h2> + +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>What <span class="u">was</span> the startling secret of Diomed III that almost +caused Travis to lose his life?<br /> +And who was Lappy?... </p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>When the radiogram came in it was 10:28 ship's time and old 29 was +exactly 3.4 light years away from Diomed III. Travis threw her wide +open and hoped for the best. By 4:10 that same afternoon, minus three +burned out generators and fronting a warped ion screen, old 29 touched +the atmosphere and began homing down. It was a very tense moment. +Somewhere down in that great blue disc below a Mapping Command ship +sat in an open field, sending up the beam which was guiding them down. +But it was not the Mapping Command that was important. The Mapping +Command was always first. What mattered now was to come in second, any +kind of second, close or wide, mile or eyelash, but second come hell +or high water.</p> + +<p>The clouds peeled away. Travis staring anxiously down could see +nothing but mist and heavy cloud. He could not help sniffing the air +and groaning inwardly. There is no smell quite as expensive as that of +burned generators. He could hear the Old Man repeating over and over +again—as if Allspace was not one of the richest companies in +existence—"burned generators, boy, is burned <i>money</i>, and don't you +forget it!" Fat chance me forgetting it, Travis thought gloomily, +twitching his nostrils. But a moment later he did.</p> + +<p>For Diomed III was below him.</p> + +<p>And Diomed III was an Open Planet.</p> + +<p>It happened less often, nowadays, that the Mapping Command ran across +intelligent life, and it was even less often that the intelligent life +was humanoid. But when it happened it was an event to remember. For +space travel had brought with it two great problems. The first was +Contact, the second was Trade. For many years Man had prohibited +contact with intelligent humanoids who did not yet have space travel, +on the grounds of the much-discussed Maturity Theory. As time went by, +however, and humanoid races were discovered which were biologically +identical with Man, and as great swarms of completely alien, often +hostile races were also discovered, the Maturity Theory went into +discard. A human being, ran the new slogan, is a Human Being, and so +came the first great Contact Law, which stated that any humanoid race, +regardless of its place on the evolutionary scale, was to be +contacted. To be accepted, "yea, welcomed," as the phrase went, into +the human community. And following this, of course, there came Trade. +For it was the businessmen who had started the whole thing in the +first place.</p> + +<p>Hence the day of the Open Planet. A humanoid race was discovered by +the Mapping Command, the M.C. made its investigation, and then sent +out the Word. And every company in the Galaxy, be it monstrous huge or +piddling small, made a mad rush to be first on the scene. The +Government was very strict about the whole business, the idea being +that planets should make their contracts with companies rather than +the government itself, so that if any shady business arose the company +at fault could be kicked out, and there would be no chance of a +general war. Also, went the reasoning, under this system there would +be no favorites. Whichever company, no matter its resources, had a +ship closest at the time of the call, was the one to get first +bargaining rights. Under this setup it was very difficult for any one +company to grow too large, or to freeze any of the others out, and +quite often a single contract on a single planet was enough to +transform a fly-by-night outfit into a major concern.</p> + +<p>So that was the basis of the Open Planet, but there the real story has +only begun. Winning the race did not always mean winning the contract. +It was what you found when you got down that made the job of a Contact +Man one of the most hazardous occupations in history. Each new planet +was wholly and completely new, there were no rules, and what you +learned on all the rest meant nothing. You went from a matriarchy +which refused absolutely to deal with men (the tenth ship to arrive +had a lady doctor and therefore got the contract) to a planet where +the earth was sacred and you couldn't dig a hole in it so mining was +out, to a planet which considered your visit the end of the world and +promptly committed mass suicide. The result of this was that a +successful Contact Man had to be a remarkable man to begin with: a +combined speed demon, sociologist, financier, diplomat and geologist, +all in one. It was a job in which successful men not only made +fortunes, they made legends. It was that way with Pat Travis.</p> + +<p>Sitting at the viewscreen, watching the clouds whip by and the first +dark clots of towns beginning to shape below, Travis thought about the +legend. He was a tall, frail, remarkably undernourished looking man +with large soft brown eyes. He did not look like a legend and he knew +it, and, being a man of great pride, it bothered him. More and more, +as the years went by, his competitors blamed his success on luck. It +was not Pat Travis that was the legend, it was the luck of Pat Travis. +Over the years he had learned not to argue about it, and it was only +during these past few months, when his luck had begun to slip, that he +mentioned it at all.</p> + +<p>Luck no more makes a legend, he knew, than raw courage makes a +fighter. But legends die quick in deep space, and his own had been +a-dying for a good long while now, while other lesser men, the luck +all theirs, plucked planet after planet from under his nose. Now at +the viewscreen he glanced dolefully across the room at his crew: the +curly-headed young Dahlinger and the profound Mr. Trippe. In contrast +to his own weary relaxation, both of the young men were tensed and +anxious, peering into the screen. They had come to learn under the +great Pat Travis, but in the last few months what they seemed to have +learned most was Luck: if you happened to be close you were lucky and +if you weren't you weren't. But if they were to get anywhere in this +business, Travis knew, they had to learn that luck, more often than +not, follows the man who burns his generators....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He stopped thinking abruptly as a long yellow field came into view. He +saw silver flashing in the sun, and his heart jumped into his throat. +Old 29 settled fast. One ship or two? In the distance he could see the +gray jumbled shapes of a low-lying city. The sun was shining warmly, +it was spring on Diomed III, and across the field a blue river +sparkled, but Travis paid no attention. There was only one silver +gleam. Still he waited, not thinking. But when they were close enough +he saw that he was right. The Mapping Command ship was alone. Old 29, +burned generators and all, had won the race.</p> + +<p>"My boys," he said gravely, turning to the crew, "Pat Travis rides +again!" But they were already around him, pounding him on the back. He +turned happily back to the screen, for the first time beginning to +admire the view. By jing, he thought, what a lovely day!</p> + +<p>That was his first mistake.</p> + +<p>It was not a lovely day.</p> + +<p>It was absolutely miserable.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Travis had his first pang of doubt when he stepped out of the ship.</p> + +<p>The field was empty, not a native in sight. But Dahlinger was out +before him, standing waist high in the grass and heaving deep lungfuls +of the flower-scented air. He yelled that he could already smell the +gold.</p> + +<p>"I say, Trav," Trippe said thoughtfully from behind him, "where's the +fatted calf?"</p> + +<p>"In this life," Travis said warily, "one is often disappointed." A +figure climbed out of a port over at the Mapping Command ship and came +walking slowly toward them. Travis recognized him and grinned.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Hort."</p> + +<p>"Hey Trav," Horton replied from a distance. But he did not say +anything else. He came forward with an odd look on his face. Travis +did not understand. Ed Horton was an old buddy and Ed Horton should be +happy to see him. Travis felt his second pang. This one went deep.</p> + +<p>"Anybody beat us here?"</p> + +<p>"No. You're the first, Trav."</p> + +<p>Dahlinger whooped. Travis relaxed slightly and even the glacial Trippe +could not control a silly grin.</p> + +<p>Horton caught a whiff of air from the open lock.</p> + +<p>"<span class="g">Burned</span> generators? You must've come like hell." His face showed his +respect. Between burning a generator and blowing one entirely there is +only a microscopic distance, and it takes a very steady pilot indeed +to get the absolute most out of his generators without also spreading +himself and his ship over several cubic miles of exploded space.</p> + +<p>"Like a striped-tailed ape," Dahlinger chortled. "Man, you should see +the boss handle a ship. I thought every second we were going to +explode in technicolor."</p> + +<p>"Well," Horton said feebly. "Burned generators. Shame."</p> + +<p>He lowered his eyes and began toeing the ground. Travis felt suddenly +ill.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Hort?"</p> + +<p>Horton shrugged. "I hate like heck to be the one to tell you, Trav, +but seein' as I know you, they sent me—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me what?" Now Dahlinger and Trippe both realized it and were +suddenly silent.</p> + +<p>"Well, if only you'd taken a little more time. But not you, not old +Pat Travis. By damn, Pat, you came in here like a downhill +locomotive, it ain't my fault—"</p> + +<p>"Hort, straighten it out. What's not your fault?"</p> + +<p>Horton sighed.</p> + +<p>"Listen, it's a long story. I've got a buggy over here to take you +into town. They're puttin' you up at a hotel so you can look the place +over. I'll tell you on the way in."</p> + +<p>"The heck with that," Dahlinger said indignantly, "we want to see the +<i>man</i>."</p> + +<p>"You're not goin' to see the man, sonny," Horton said patiently, "You +are, as a matter of fact, the last people on the planet the man wants +to see right now."</p> + +<p>Dahlinger started to say something but Travis shut him up. He told +Trippe to stay with the ship and took Dahlinger with him. At the end +of the field was a carriage straight out of Seventeenth Century +England. And the things that drew it—if you closed your eyes—looked +reasonably similar to horses. The three men climbed aboard. There was +no driver. Horton explained that the 'horses' would head straight for +the hotel.</p> + +<p>"Well all right," Travis said, "what's the story?"</p> + +<p>"Don't turn those baby browns on me," Horton said gloomily, "I would +have warned you if I could, but you know the law says we can't show +favoritism...."</p> + +<p>Travis decided the best thing to do was wait with as much patience as +possible. After a while Horton had apologized thoroughly and +completely, although what had happened was certainly not his fault, +and finally got on with the tale.</p> + +<p>"Now this here planet," he said cautiously, "is whacky in a lot of +ways. First off they call it Mert. Mert. Fine name for a planet. Just +plain Mert. And they live in houses strictly from Dickens, all +carriages, no sewers, narrow streets, stuff like that. With technology +roughly equivalent to seventeenth century. But now—see there, see +that building over there?"</p> + +<p>Travis followed his pointing finger through the trees. A large white +building of blinding marble was coming slowly into view. Travis' eyes +widened.</p> + +<p>"You see? Just like the blinkin' Parthenon, or Acropolis, whichever it +is. All columns and frescoes. In the middle of a town looks just like +London. Makes no sense, but there it is. And that's not all. Their +government is Grecian too, complete with Senate and Citizens. No +slaves though. Well not exactly. You couldn't call them slaves. Or +could you? Heck of a question, that—" He paused to brood. Travis +nudged him.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Well, all that is minor, next to the big thing. This is one of +two major countries on the planet. There's a few hill tribes but these +make up about 90 percent of the population, so you have to deal with +these. They never go to war, well maybe once in a while, but not very +often. So no trouble there. The big trouble is one you'd never guess, +not in a million years."</p> + +<p>He stared at Travis unhappily.</p> + +<p>"The whole planet's run on astrology."</p> + +<p>He waited for a reaction. Travis said nothing.</p> + +<p>"It ain't funny," Horton said. "When I say run on astrology I mean +really run. Wait'll you hear."</p> + +<p>"I'm not laughing," Travis said. "But is that all? In this business +you learn to respect the native customs, so if all we have to do—"</p> + +<p>"I ain't finished yet," Horton said ominously, "you don't get the +point. <i>Everything</i> these people do is based on astrology. And that +means business too, lad, business too. Every event that happens on +this cockeyed world, from a picnic to a wedding to a company merger or +a war, it's all based on astrology. They have it down so exact they +even tell you when to sneeze. You ought to see the daily paper. Half +of it's solid astrological guidance. All the Senators not only have +astrologers, they <i>are</i> astrologers. And get this: every man and woman +and child alive on this planet was catalogued the day he was born. His +horoscope was drawn up by the public astrologer—a highly honored +office—and his future laid out according to what the horoscope said. +If his horoscope indicates a man of stature and responsibility, he +<i>becomes</i>, by God, a man of stature and responsibility. You have to +see it to believe it. Kids with good horoscopes are sent to the best +schools, people fight to give them jobs. Well, take the courts, for +example. When they're trying a case, do they talk about evidence? They +do not. They call in a legal astrologer—there's all kinds of branches +in the profession—and this joker all by himself determines the guilt +or innocence of the accused. By checking the aspects. Take a wedding. +Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Does boy go see girl? No. He heads +straight for an astrologer. The girl's horoscope is on file in the +local city hall, just like everybody else. The astrologer compares the +charts and determines whether the marriage will be a good one. He is, +naturally, a marital astrologer. He gives the word. If he says no they +don't marry.</p> + +<p>"I could go on for hours. But you really have to see it. Take the case +of people who want to have children. They want them born, naturally, +at the time of the best possible aspects, so they consult an +astrologer and he gives them a list of the best times for a baby to be +conceived. These times are not always convenient, sometimes it's 4:18 +in the morning and sometimes it's 2:03 Monday afternoon. Yet this is a +legitimate excuse for getting out of work. A man goes in, tells his +boss it's breeding time, and off he goes without a penny docked. Build +a better race, they say. Of course the gestation period is variable, +and they never do hit it right on the nose, and also there are still +the natural accidents, so quite a few are born with terrible +horoscopes—"</p> + +<p>"Holy smoke!" Travis muttered. The possibilities of it blossomed in +his mind. He began to understand what was coming.</p> + +<p>"Now you begin to see?" Horton went on gloomily. "Look what an +Earthman represents to these people. We are the unknown, the +completely capital U Unknown. Everybody else is a certain definite +quantity, his horoscope is on file and every man on Mert has access to +all his potentialities, be they good, bad or indifferent. But not us. +They don't know when we were born, or where, and even if they did it +it wouldn't do them any good, because they haven't got any system +covering Mars and Jupiter, the planets at home. Everybody else is +catalogued, but not us."</p> + +<p>"And just because they believe so thoroughly in their own astrology +they've gotten used to the idea that a man is what his horoscope says +he is."</p> + +<p>"But us? What are we? They haven't the vaguest idea, and it scares +hell out of them. The only thing they can do is check with one of the +branches, what they call Horary Astrology, and make a horoscope of the +day we landed. Even if that tells them nothing about us in particular +at least it tells them, or so they believe, all about our mission to +Mert. Because the moment our ship touched the ground was the birth +date of our business here."</p> + +<p>He paused and regarded Travis with woeful sympathy.</p> + +<p>"With us, luckily, it was all right. The Mapping Command just happened +to hit here on a good day. But you? Trav, old buddy, for once you came +just too damn fast—"</p> + +<p>"Oh my God," Travis breathed. "We landed on a bad day."</p> + +<p>"Bad?" Horton sighed. "Man, it's <i>terrible</i>."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"You see," Horton said as they drove into the town, "not a soul on the +streets. This is not only a bad day, this is one for the books. +To-morrow, you see, there is an eclipse. And to these people there is +nothing more frightening than an eclipse. During the entire week +preceding one they won't do a darn thing. No business, no weddings, no +anything. The height of it will be reached about tomorrow noon. Their +moon—which is a tiny little thing not much bigger than our first +space station—is called Felda. It is very important in their +astrology. And for all practical purposes the eclipse is already in +force. I knew you were riding in down the base so I checked it out. It +not only applies to you, other things cinch it."</p> + +<p>He pulled a coarse sheet of paper from his pocket and read from it in +a wishful voice: "With Huck, planet of necessity, transiting the 12th +house of endings and things hidden, squaring Bonken, planet of gain, +in the ninth house of travellers and distant places, it is +unquestionable that the visit of these—uh—persons bodes ill for +Mert. If further proof is needed, one need only examine the position +of Diomed, which is conjunct Huck, and closely square to Lyndal, in +the third house of commerce, etc, etc. You see what I mean? On top of +this yet an eclipse. Trav, you haven't got a prayer. If only you +hadn't been so close. Two days from now would have been great. Once +the eclipse ends—"</p> + +<p>"Well, listen," Travis said desperately, "couldn't we just see the +guy?"</p> + +<p>"Take my advice. Don't. He has expressed alarm at the thought that you +might come near him. Also his guards are armed with blunderbusses. +They may be a riot to look at, but those boys can shoot, believe me. +Give you a contract? Trav, he wouldn't give you a broom to sweep out +his cellar."</p> + +<p>At that moment they drew up before an enormous marble building vaguely +reminiscent of a Theban palace. It turned out to be the local hotel. +Horton stopped on the threshold and handed them two of the tiny +Langkits, the little black memory banks in which the language of Mert +had been transcribed for their use by the Mapping Command. Travis +slipped his automatically into position behind his ear, but he felt no +need to know the language. This one was going to be tough. He glanced +at Dahlinger. The kid was wearing a stunned expression, too dulled +even to notice the pantalooned customer—first Merts they'd +seen—eyeing them fearfully from behind pillars as they passed.</p> + +<p>Smell that gold, Travis remembered wistfully. Then, smell those +generators. Oh, he thought sinkingly, smell those generators. They +went silently on up to the room.</p> + +<p>Travis stopped at the door as a thought struck him.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he said cautiously, taking Horton by the arm, "haven't you +thought of this? Why don't we just take off and start all over, orbit +around for a couple of days, pick a good hour, and then come back +down. That way we'll be starting all—"</p> + +<p>But Horton was gazing at him reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"They have a word for that, Trav," he said ominously, "they call it +<i>vetching</i>. Worst crime a man can commit. Attempt to evade his stars. +Equivalent almost to falsifying a horoscope. No siree, boy, for that +they burn you very slowly. The first horoscope stands. All your +subsequent actions, according to them, date from the original. You'll +just be bearing out the first diagnosis. You'll be a vetcher."</p> + +<p>"Um," Travis said. "If they feel that way, why the heck do they even +let us stay?"</p> + +<p>"Shows you the way the system works. This is a bad day for everything. +Coming as well as going. They'd never think of asking you to start a +trip on a day like this. No matter who you are."</p> + +<p>Travis collapsed into an old, vaguely Chippendale chair. His position +was not that of a man sitting, it was that of a man dropped from a +great height.</p> + +<p>"Well," Horton said. "So it goes. And listen, Trav, there was nothing +I could do."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Hort."</p> + +<p>"I just want you to know I'm sorry. I know they've been kickin' you +around lately, and don't think I don't feel I owe you something. After +all, if you hadn't—"</p> + +<p>"Easy," Travis said, glancing at Dahlinger. But the kid's ears perked.</p> + +<p>"Well," <span class="g">Horton</span> murmured, "just so's you know. Anyways I still got +faith in you. And Unico will be in the same boat. If they get here +tonight. So think about it. Let me see the old Pat Travis. Your luck +has to change sometime."</p> + +<p>He clenched a fist, then left.</p> + +<p>Travis sat for a long while in the chair. Dahlinger muttered something +very bitter about luck. Travis thought of telling him that it was not +luck that had put them so close to Mert, but a very grim and expensive +liaison with a ferociously ugly Mapping Command secretary at +Aldebaran. She had told him that there was a ship in this area. But +this news was not for Dahlinger's ears. And neither did he think it +wise to explain to Dahlinger the thing he had done for Horton some +years ago. Young Dolly was not yet ripe. Travis sighed and looked +around for a bed. To his amusement he noted a four poster in the +adjoining room. He went in and lay down.</p> + +<p>Gradually the dullness began to wear off. There was a resiliency in +Travis unequalled, some said, by spring steel. He began to ponder ways +and means.</p> + +<p>There was always a way. There had to be a way. Somewhere in the +customs of this planet there was a key—but he did not have the time. +Unico would be in tonight, others would be down before the week was +out. And the one to land in two days, on the <i>good</i> day, would get the +contract.</p> + +<p>He twisted on the bed. Luck, luck, the hell with luck. If you were +born with sense you were lucky and if a meteor fell on you, you were +unlucky, but most of the rest of it was even from there on out. So if +the legend was to continue....</p> + +<p>He became gradually aware of the clock in the ceiling.</p> + +<p>In the ceiling?</p> + +<p>He stared at it. The symbols and the time meant nothing, but the clock +was embedded flat in the ceiling above the bed, facing directly down.</p> + +<p>He pondered that for a moment. Then he exploded with laughter. By +jing, of course. They would have to know what time the baby was +conceived. So all over Mert, in thousands of homes, there were clocks +in the bedrooms, clocks in the ceilings, and wives peering anxiously +upward murmured sweetly in their husbands' ears: 4:17, darling, 4:17 +and a half....</p> + +<p>The roar of his mirth brought Dolly floundering in from the other +room. Travis sprang from the bed.</p> + +<p>"Listen, son," he bellowed, "luck be damned! You get back to the ship. +Get Mapping Command to let you look at its files, find out everything +you can about Mert. There's a key somewhere, boy, there's an out in +there someplace, if we look hard enough. Luck! Hah! Work, boy, work, +there's a key!"</p> + +<p>He shooed Dahlinger out of the room. The young man left dazedly, but +he had caught some of Travis' enthusiasm. Travis turned back to the +bed feeling unreasonably optimistic. No way out, eh? Well by jingo, +old Pat Travis would ride again, he could feel it in his bones.</p> + +<p>A few moments later he had another feeling in his bones. This one was +much less delightful. He was pacing past a heavy drapery when +something very hard and moving very fast struck him on the head.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The first thing Travis saw when he awoke was, unmistakably, the behind +of a young woman.</p> + +<p>His head was lying flat on the floor and the girl was sitting next to +him, her back toward him very close to his face. He stared at it for a +long while without thinking. The pain in his head was enormous, and he +was not used to pain, not any kind of pain. The whiskey men drank +nowadays left no hangovers, and for a normal headache there were +instantaneously acting pills, so Travis on the floor was unused to +pain. And though he was by nature a courageous man it took him a while +to be able to think at all, much less clearly.</p> + +<p>Eventually he realized that he was lying on a very hard floor. His +arms and legs were tightly bound. He investigated the floor. It was +brick. It was wet. The dark ceiling dripped water in the flickering +light from some source beyond the girl. The brick, the dripping water, +the girl, all combined to make it completely unbelievable. If it +wasn't for the pain he would have rolled over and gone to sleep. But +the pain. Yes the pain. He closed his eyes and lay still, hurting.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes again he was better. By jing, this was +ridiculous. Not a full day yet on Mert and in addition to his other +troubles, now this. He did not feel alarmed, only downright angry. +This business of the flickering light and being tied hand and foot was +too impossible to be dangerous. He grunted feebly at the back of the +girl.</p> + +<p>"Ho," he said. "Now what in the sweet name of Billy H. Culpepper is +this?"</p> + +<p>The girl turned and looked down at him. She swiveled around on her +hips and a rag-bound foot kicked him unconcernedly in the side. For +the first time he saw the other two men behind her. There were two of +them. The look of them was ridiculous.</p> + +<p>The girl said something. It was a moment before he realized she was +speaking in Mert, which he had to translate out of the Langkit behind +his ear.</p> + +<p>"The scourge awakes," one of the men said.</p> + +<p>"A joy. It was my thought that in the conjunction was done perhaps +murder."</p> + +<p>"Poot. One overworries. And if death comes to this one, observe, will +the money be paid? Of a surety. But this is bizarre."</p> + +<p>"Truly bizarre," the girl nodded. Then to make her point, "also +curious, unique, unusual. My thought: from what land he comes?"</p> + +<p>"The cloth is rare," one of the men said, "observe with tight eyes the +object on his wrist. A many-symboled engine—"</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> engine," the girl said positively. She reached down for his +watch.</p> + +<p>Travis jerked back. "Lay off there," he bawled in English, "you +hipless—" The girl recoiled. He could not see her face but her tone +was puzzled.</p> + +<p>"What language is this? He speaks with liquid."</p> + +<p>The larger of the two men arose and came over to him.</p> + +<p>"Speak again scourge. But first empty the mouth."</p> + +<p>Travis glared at the man's feet, which were wrapped in dirty cloth and +smelt like the breezes blowing softly over fresh manure.</p> + +<p>"Speak again? Speak again? Untie my hands, you maggoty slob, and I'll +speak your bloody—" he went on at great length, but the man ignored +him.</p> + +<p>"Truly, he speaks as with a full mouth. But this is not Bilken talk."</p> + +<p>"Nor is he, of clarity and also profundity, a hill man," the girl +observed.</p> + +<p>"Poot. Pootpoot," the young man stuttered, "the light! He is of +<i>Them</i>!"</p> + +<p>It took the other two a moment to understand what he meant, but Travis +caught on immediately. May the Saints preserve us, he thought, they +figured I was from Mert. He chuckled happily to himself. A natural +mistake. Only one Earthman on this whole blinking planet, puts up at a +good hotel, best in town, these boys put the snatch on me thinking I'm +a visiting VIP, loaded, have no idea I'm just poor common trash like +the rest of us Earthmen. Haw! His face split in a wide grin. He +gathered his words from the Langkit and began to speak in Mert.</p> + +<p>"Exactly, friends. With clarity one sees that you have been misled. I +am not of Mert. I am from a far world, come here to deal with your +Senate in peace. Untie me, then, and let us erase this sad but +eraseable mistake with a good handshake all around, and a speedy +farewell."</p> + +<p>It did not have the effect he desired. The girl stepped back from +him, a dark frown on her face, and the large man above him spoke +mournfully.</p> + +<p>"Where now is the ransom?"</p> + +<p>"And the risk," the girl said. "Was not there great risk?"</p> + +<p>"Unhappily," the tall man observed. "One risks. One should be repaid. +It is in the nature of things that one is repaid."</p> + +<p>"Well now, boys," Travis put in from the floor, "you see it +yourselves. I'm flat as a—" he paused. Apparently the Merts had no +word for pancake. "My pockets are—windy. No money is held therein."</p> + +<p>"Still," the tall man mused absently, "this must have friends. On the +great ships lie things of value. Doubt?"</p> + +<p>"Not," the girl said firmly. "But I see over the hills coming a +problem."</p> + +<p>"How does it appear?"</p> + +<p>"In the shape of disposal. See thee. Such as will come from the great +ships, of value though it be, can it not be clarifiably identified by +such pootian authorities as presently seek our intestines?"</p> + +<p>"Ha!" the tall man snorted in anger. "So. Truth shapes itself."</p> + +<p>"Will we not, then," continued the girl, "risk sunlight on our +intestines in pursuing this affair?"</p> + +<p>"We will," the young man spoke up emphatically. "We will of +inevitability. Navel. Our risk is unpaid. So passes the cloud."</p> + +<p>"But in freedom for this," the girl warily indicated Travis, "lies +risk in great measure. Which way lie his ribs? Can we with profit +slice his binds? He is of Them. What coils in his head? What strikes?"</p> + +<p>They were all silent. Travis, having caught but not deciphered most of +the conversation, glanced quickly from face to face. The girl had +backed out into the light and he could see her now clearly, and his +mouth fell open. She was thickly coated with dirt but she was +absolutely beautiful. The features were perfect, lovely, the mouth was +promising and full. Under the ragged skirt and the torn sooty blouse +roamed surfaces of imaginable perfection. He had difficulty getting +back to the question at hand. All the while he was thinking other +voices inside him were whispering. "By jing, by jing, she's +absolutely...."</p> + +<p>The two men were completely unlike. One was huge, from this angle he +was enormous. He had what looked like a dirty scarf on his head, +madonna-like, which would have been ridiculous except for the +mountainous shoulders below it and the glittering knife stuck in his +wide leather belt. The shaft of the knife flickered wickedly in the +light. It was the only clean thing about him.</p> + +<p>The other man was young, probably still in his teens. Curly-haired and +blond and much cleaner than the other two, with a softness in his face +the others lacked. But in his belt he carried what appeared to +be—what was, a well-oiled and yawning barreled blunderbuss.</p> + +<p>So they sat for a long moment of silence. He had time to observe that +what they were sitting in was in all likelihood a sewer. It ran off +into darkness but there was a dim light in the distance and other +voices far away, and he gathered that this was not all of +the—gang—that had abducted him. But it was beginning to penetrate, +now, as he began to understand their words, that they were unhappy +about letting him go. He was about to argue the point when the big man +stepped suddenly forward and knelt beside him. He shut out the light, +Travis could not see. The last thing he heard was the big man grunting +as he threw the blow, like a rooting pig.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When he awoke this time the pain had moved over to the side of his +neck. There was no light at all and he lay wearily for a long while in +the blackness. He had no idea how much time had passed. He could tell +from the brick wet below him that he was still in the sewer, or at +least some other part of it, and, considering the last turn of the +conversation, he thought he could call himself lucky to be alive.</p> + +<p>But as his strength returned so did his anger. He began to struggle +with his bonds. There was still the problem of the contract. He +regarded that bitterly. He could just possibly die down here, but his +main worry was still the contract. Allspace would be proud of him—but +Allspace might never know.</p> + +<p>He did nothing with the bonds, which he discovered unhappily were raw +leather thongs. Eventually he saw a light coming down the corridor. He +saw with a thrill of real pleasure that it was the girl. The young man +was tagging along behind her but the big man was absent. The girl +knelt down by him and regarded him quizically.</p> + +<p>"Do you possess pain?"</p> + +<p>"Maiden, I possess and possess unto the limits of capacity."</p> + +<p>"My thought is sorrow. But this passes. Consider: your blood remains +wet."</p> + +<p>Travis caught her meaning. He swore feebly.</p> + +<p>"It was very nearly let dry," the girl said. "But solutions conjoined. +It was noted at the last, even as the blade descended, that such +friends as yours could no doubt barter for Mertian coin, untraceable, +thus restoring your value."</p> + +<p>"Clever, clever. Oh, clever," Travis said drily.</p> + +<p>To his surprise, the girl blushed.</p> + +<p>"Overgracious. Overkind. Speed thanks awry of this windy head, aim at +yon Lappy"—she indicated the boy who stood smiling shyly behind +her—"it was he who thought you alive, he my brother."</p> + +<p>"Ah," Travis said. "Well, bless you, boy." He nodded at the boy, who +very nearly collapsed with embarrassment. Travis wondered about this +'brother' bit. Brother in crime? The Langkit did not clarify. But the +girl turned back on him a smile as glowing as a tiny nova. He gazed +cheerfully back.</p> + +<p>"Tude and the others sit now composing your note. A matter of weight, +confounded in darkness." She lowered her eyes becomingly. "Few of us," +she apologized, "have facility in letters."</p> + +<p>"A ransom note," Travis growled. "Great Gods and Little—Tude? Who is +Tude?"</p> + +<p>"The large man who, admittedly hastening before the horse, did plant +pain in your head."</p> + +<p>"Ah," Travis said, smiling grimly. "We shall presently plow his +field—"</p> + +<p>"Ho!" the girl cried, agitated. "Speak not in darkness. Tude extends +both north and south, a man of dimension as well as choler. He boasts +Fors in the tenth in good aspect to Bonken, giving prowess at combat, +and Lyndal in the fourth bespeaks a fair ending. Avoid, odd man, +foreordained disaster."</p> + +<p>In his urge to say a great many things Travis stammered. The girl laid +a cool grimy hand lightly on his arm and tried to soothe him.</p> + +<p>"With passivity and endurance. The night shall see you free. Tude +comes in close moment with the note. Quarrel not at the price, sign, +and there will be a conclusion to the matter. We are not retrograde +here. As we set our tongues, so lie our deeds."</p> + +<p>"Yes, well, all right," Travis grumbled. "But there will come—all +right all right. My name shall be inscribed, let your note contain +what it will. But I would have speed. There are matters of gravity +lying heavily ahead."</p> + +<p>The girl cocked her head oddly to one side.</p> + +<p>"You sit on points. A rare thing. Lies your horoscope in such +confusion that you know not the drift of the coming hours?"</p> + +<p>Travis blinked.</p> + +<p>"Horoscope?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Surely," the girl said, "the astrologers of your planet did preach +warning to you of the danger of this day, and whether, in the motions +of your system, lay success or failure. Or is it a question of varying +interpretations? Did one say you good while the other—"</p> + +<p>Travis grinned broadly. Then he sobered. It would quite logically +follow that these people, primitive as they were, might not be able to +conceive of a land where astrology was not Lord over all. A human +trait. But he saw dangerous ground ahead. He began very cautiously and +diplomatically to explain himself, saying that while astrology was +practiced among his own people, it had not yet become as exact an art +as it was on Mert, and only a few had as yet learned to trust it.</p> + +<p>The effect on the girl was startling. She seemed for a moment actually +terrified when it was finally made clear to her. She abruptly +retreated into a corner with her brother and mumbled low frantic +sounds. Travis grinned to himself but kept his face stoically calm. +But now the girl was out in the light and he could examine her clearly +for the first time, and he forgot about astrology entirely.</p> + +<p>She was probably in her early twenties. She was dirtier than a +well-digger's shoes. She ran with a pack of cutthroats and thieves in +what was undoubtedly the lowest possible level of Mertian society. But +there was something about her, something Travis responded to very +strongly, which he could not define. Possibly something about the set +of her hair, which was dark and very long, or perhaps in the +mouth—yes the mouth, now observe the mouth—and also maybe in the +figure.... But he could not puzzle it out. A girl from the gutter. +But—perhaps that was it, there seemed to be no gutter about her. +There was real grace in her movements, a definite style in the way she +held her head, something gentle and very fine.</p> + +<p>Now watch that, Travis boy, he told himself sharply, watch that. A +psychological thing, certainly. She probably reminds you of a long +forgotten view of your mother.</p> + +<p>The girl arose and came back, followed this time by the young man. She +had become suddenly and intensely interested in his world—she had +apparently taken it for granted that it was exactly like hers, only +with space ships—and Travis obliged her by giving a brief sketch of +selected subjects: speeds, wonders, what women wore, and so on. +Gradually he worked the conversation back around to her, and she began +to tell him about herself.</p> + +<p>Her name was, euphonically, Navel. This was not particularly startling +to Travis. Navel is a pretty word and the people of Mert had chosen +another, uglier sound for use when they meant 'belly button,' which +was their right. Travis accepted it, and then listened to her story.</p> + +<p>She had not always been a criminal, run with the sewer packs. She had +come, as a matter of proud record, from an extremely well-to-do family +which featured two Senators, one Horary Astrologer, and a mercantile +tycoon—which accounted, Travis thought, for her air of breeding. The +great tragedy of her life, however, the thing that had brought her to +her present pass, was her abysmally foul horoscope. She had not been a +planned baby. Her parents felt great guilt about it, but the deed was +done and there was no help for it. She had been born with Huck +retrograde in the tenth house, opposing Fors retrograde in the fourth, +and so on, and so on, so that even the most amateur astrologer could +see right at her birth that she was born for no good, destined for +some shameful end.</p> + +<p>She told about it with an air of resigned cheerfulness, saying that +after all her parents had really done more than could be expected of +them. Both with her and her similarly accidental brother Lappy—now +<i>there</i>, Travis thought, was a careless couple—whose horoscope, she +said dolefully, was even worse than her own. The parents had sent her +off to school up through the first few years, and had given her a +handsome dowry when they disowned her, and they did the same with +Lappy a few years later.</p> + +<p>But Navel held no bitterness. She was a girl born inevitably for +trouble—her horoscope forecast that she would be a shame to her +parents, would spend much of her life in obscure, dangerous places, +and would reflect no credit on anyone who befriended her. So, for a +child like this, what reasonable citizen would waste time and money +and love, when it was certain beforehand that the child grown up would +be as likely as not to end up a murderess? No, the schools were +reserved for the children of promise, as were the jobs and the parties +and the respect later on. The only logical course, the habitual +custom, was for the parents to disown their evilly aspected children, +hoping only that such tragedies as lay in the future would not be too +severe, and at least would not be connected with the family name.</p> + +<p>And Navel was not bitter. But there was only one place for her, +following her exile from her parents' home. A career in business was +of course impossible. Prospective employers took one look at your +horoscope and—zoom, the door. The only work she could find was menial +in the extreme—dish-washing, street cleaning, and so on. So she +turned, and Lappy turned, as thousands of their ill-starred kind had +turned before them for generations, to the wild gangs of the sewers.</p> + +<p>And it was not nearly so bad as it might have seemed. The sewer gangs +were composed of thousands of people just like herself, homeless, cast +out, and they came from all levels of society to found a society of +their own. They offered each other what none of them could have found +anywhere else on Mert: appreciation, companionship, and even if life +in the sewers was filthy, it was also tolerable, and many even married +and had children—the luckiest of whom quickly disowned their parents +and were adopted by wealthy families.</p> + +<p>But the thing which impressed Travis most of all was that none of +these people were bitter at their fate. Navel could not recall ever +hearing of any organized attempt at rebellion. Indeed, most of the +sewer people believed more strongly in the astrology of Mert than did +the business men on the outside. For each day every one of them could +look at the dirt of himself, at the disease of his surroundings, and +could see that the message of his horoscope was true: he was born to +no good end. And since it had been drummed into these people from +their earliest childhood that only the worst could be expected of +them, they gave in, quite humanly, to the predictions, and went +philosophically forth to live up to them. They watched the daily +horoscopes intently for the Bad Days, realizing that what was bad for +the normal people must be a field day for themselves, and they issued +out of the sewers periodically on binges of robbery, kidnapping, and +worse. In this way they lived up to the promise of their stars, +fulfilled themselves, and also managed to eat. And few if any ever +questioned the justice of their position.</p> + +<p>Travis sat listening, stunned. For a long while the contract and how +to get out of here and all the rest of it was forgotten. He sat +watching the girl and her shy brother as they spoke self-consciously +to him, and began to understand what they must be feeling. Travis was +from outside the sewers, he had stayed at the grand hotel—his +horoscope, whether he believed it or not, must be very fine. And so +they did him unconscious homage, much in the manner of low caste +Hindus speaking to a Bramin. It was unnerving.</p> + +<p>Gradually the boy Lappy began to speak also, and Travis realized with +surprise that the boy was in many ways remarkable. As Navel's +brother—Navel, Travis gathered with a twinge of deep regret, was the +big Tude's 'friend', and Tude was the leader of this particular +gang—young Lappy had a restful position. He was kept out of most of +the rough work end allowed to pursue what he shamelessly called his +'studies', and he guessed proudly that he must have stolen nearly +every book in the Consul's library. His particular hobbies, it turned +out, were math and physics. He had a startling command of both, and +some of the questions he asked Travis were embarrassing. But the boy +was leaning forward, breathlessly drinking in the answers, when Tude +came back.</p> + +<p>The big man loomed over them suddenly on his quiet rag-bound feet, +frightening the boy and causing the girl to flinch. He made a number +of singularly impolite remarks, but Travis said nothing and bided his +time. He regarded the big man with patient joy, considering with +delight such bloodthirsty effects as judo could produce on this +one—Fors and Bonken be damned—if they ever untied his hands.</p> + +<p>Eventually, unable to get a rise out of him, the big man shoved a +paper down before his nose and told him to sign it. He pulled out that +wickedly clean knife and freed Travis' hand just enough for him to +move his wrist. Hoping for the best, Travis signed. Tude chuckled, +said something nastily to the girl, the girl said something chilling +in return, and the big man cuffed her playfully on the shoulder. Then +he lumbered away.</p> + +<p>Travis sat glaring after him. The contract, the need to escape flooded +back into his mind. The eclipse might be ending even now. Unico would +already be here, probably one or two others as well. And this ransom +business might take a week. He swore to himself. Pat Travis, the +terror of the skies, held captive by a bunch of third rate musical +comedy pirates while millions lay in wait in the city above. And oh my +Lord, he thought, stricken, what will people say when they hear—he +had to get out.</p> + +<p>He glanced cautiously at the girl and the boy, who were gazing at him +ingenuously. He saw instantly that the way, if there was a way, lay +through them. But the plan had not yet formed when the boy leaned +forward and spoke.</p> + +<p>"I have an odd thing in my head," Lappy said bashfully, "that +nevertheless radiates joy to my mind. In my reading I have seen things +leap together from many books, forming a whole, and the whole is rare. +Can you, in your wisdom, confirm or deny what I have seen? It is +this—"</p> + +<p>He spoke a short series of sentences. Navel tried to shush him, +embarrassed, but he doggedly went on. And Travis, stricken, found +himself suddenly paying close attention.</p> + +<p>For the words Lappy said, with minor variations, were Isaac Newton's +Laws of Motion.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"There are the seven planets," Navel was saying gravely, "and the two +lights—that is, the sun and the moon. The first planet, that nearest +the sun, is called Rym. Rym is the planet of intellect, of the +ordinary mind. Second, is Lyndal, the planet of love, beauty, parties, +marriage, and things of a gentle nature. Third is Fors, planet of +action, strife. Fourth is Bonken, planet of beneficence, of gain, +money, health. Next comes Huck, orb of necessity, the Greater +Infortune, which brings men most trouble of all. Then Weepen, planet +of illusion, of dreamers and poets and, poorly aspected, liars and +cheats. And finally there is Sharb, planet of genius, of sudden +cataclysms."</p> + +<p>"I see," Travis murmured.</p> + +<p>"But it is not only these planets and their aspects which is +important, it is also to be considered such houses and signs as +through which these planets transit...."</p> + +<p>She went on, but Travis was having difficulty following her. He could +not help but return to Newton's Laws. It was incredible. Here on this +backward planet, mired in an era roughly equivalent to the time of the +Renaissance, an event was taking place almost exactly at the same time +as it had happened, long ago, on Earth. It had been Isaac Newton, +then. It was, incredibly, this frail young man named Lappy now. For +unless Travis was greatly mistaken, Navel's kid brother was an +authentic genius. And such a genius as comes once in a hundred years.</p> + +<p>So, naturally, Lappy would have to come home with Travis. The boy was +hardly college age as yet. Sent to school by Allspace, given a place +in the great Allspace laboratories at Aldebaran, young Lappy might +eventually make the loss of the contract at Mert seem puny in +comparison to the things that head of his could produce. For Lappy was +a natural resource, just as certainly as any mine on Mert, and since +the advent of Earth science meant Mert would no longer be needing him, +Lappy could go along with Travis and still leave him a clear +conscience.</p> + +<p>But the question still remained: how? He could not even get himself +out, yet, let alone Lappy. And the girl. What about the girl?</p> + +<p>He brooded, groping for an out. But in the meanwhile he listened while +the girl outlined Mert's system of astrology. He had realized finally +that the key to the business lay there. Astrology was these people's +most powerful motivating force. If he could somehow turn it to his +advantage—He listened to the girl. And eventually found his plan.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" he said abruptly. Startled, the girl stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Lightning in the brain," Travis grinned, "solutions effervesce. +Attend. Of surety, are not <i>places</i> on Mert also ruled by the stars? +Is it not true that towns and villages do also have horoscopes?"</p> + +<p>Navel blinked.</p> + +<p>"Why, see thee, it is in the nature of things, odd man, that all +matter is governed by the planets. How else come explanations, for +example, of natural catastrophes, fires, plagues, which affect whole +cities and not others? And consider war, does not one country win, and +the other lose? Of a surety different aspects obtain...."</p> + +<p>"Joy then," Travis said. "But do further observe. Is it not so, in +your astrology, that a man's horoscope may often conflict with that of +the place wherein he dwells? Is it not so that, often, a man is +promised greater success in other regions, where the ruling stars more +closely and friendlily conjoin his own?"</p> + +<p>"Your mind leaps obstacles and homes to the truth," Navel said +approvingly. "Many times has it been made clear that a man's fortune +lies best in places ruled by his Ascendant, as witness, for example, +those who are advised to take to the sea, or to southern lands...."</p> + +<p>"Intoxication!" Travis cried out happily, "then is our goal made +known. Consider: from your poor natal horoscope, in this city, this +land, no fortune arises. You doom yourself, with Lappy, by remaining +here. But what business is this? Seek you not better times? Could you +not go forth to another place, and so become people of gravity, of +substance, of moment?"</p> + +<p>The girl regarded for a moment, puzzled, then caught his point and +shook her head sadly.</p> + +<p>"Odd man, without profit. You misconstrue. Such as we, my brother and +I, are not condemned by place, but by twistings of the character. My +natal Huck, retrograde in the tenth, gives an untrustworthy, +criminous person. It would be so here, there, anywhere. My pattern is +set. Such travels as you describe are for those who conflict only with +place. I, and my brother, it is our sad fortune to conflict with +<i>all</i>."</p> + +<p>"But this is the core," Travis insisted. "The conflict is with <i>Mert</i>! +Consider, such travail as is yours stems from the radiations of Huck, +of Weepen, of Scharb. But should you remove yourself beyond their +reach, across great vastnesses of space to where other planets +subtend—and in their alien radiation extinguish and nullify those of +Huck—what fortune comes then? What rises, what leaps in joy?"</p> + +<p>The girl sat speechless, staring at Travis with great soft eyes. The +boy Lappy, who until that moment had been grinning happily over the +news that his laws were true, suddenly understood what Travis was +saying and let his mouth fall open.</p> + +<p>But the girl sat without expression. Then, to Travis' dismay, a slow +dark look of disgust came over her face.</p> + +<p>"This," she said ominously, "this smacks of <i>vetching</i>."</p> + +<p>The word fell like a sudden fog. Lappy, who had begun to smile, cut it +sharply off. Travis, remembering what vetching meant to these people, +gathered his forces.</p> + +<p>"Woman," he said bitingly, "you speak in offense, but with patience +and kindness I heal your insult. I control my choler, but my blood +flows hot, therefore fasten your tongue. Tell me not that I have +overvalued you, for your brain is clear, your courage thick. Wherefore +speak of vetch? What vetch is there in travel? He vetches who leaves a +certainty for another certainty, who attempts to avoid his starry +fate. But you go from a certain end to an end not certain at all, to +places of dark mystery, of grim foreboding. It may be that you perish, +or pain in the extreme, as well as gain fortune. The end is not clear. +This then is not vetching. Now retreat your words, and reply to me as +one does to a friend, a companion, one who seeks your good."</p> + +<p>He sat tautly while the girl thought it out. Eventually she dropped +her eyes in submission and he sighed inwardly with relief. It was +accomplished. He would have to shore it up perhaps with a little +elaboration, but it was accomplished.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later he was standing free and unbound in the passageway. +It was just barely in time. Down the round dark tunnel two men came.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Navel stopped gingerly over the bodies and gazed at Travis with +awestruck admiration.</p> + +<p>"A rare skill," she murmured, "they did flip and gyrate as dry leaves +in the wind."</p> + +<p>"Observe then," Travis said ominously, inspecting meanwhile the long +slash down his arm with which Tude had nearly gotten him "and learn. +And in the future receive my words with planetary respect."</p> + +<p>"I will."</p> + +<p>"And I," added Lappy, shaken.</p> + +<p>"Fair. Bright. Now attend. How lies the path?"</p> + +<p>"Through more such as these, I fear. This place in which we trouble +lies at a dead end. We must proceed through great halls where many sit +waiting, ere we arrive at the light."</p> + +<p>"No other way? Think now."</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>Travis sighed.</p> + +<p>"And they talk about luck. Well boy," he turned to Lappy, "give me +your blunderbuss. Obtain that one's knife"—he indicated the sleeping +Tude—"and let us carve our way out into the sunshine."</p> + +<p>But as it turned out, the getting free was much easier than he had +anticipated. There was only one band, the girl's own, between them and +the opening, and these had fortunately just finished their evening +meal when Travis stalked, black, gaunt and murderous, out of the +tunnel into their large round room. Part of it was the surprise, part +of it was the sudden knowledge that big Tude and the other man had +already tried to stop him, but most of it was simply the look of him. +He was infinitely ready. They were not, had no reason to be, and they +took it automatically for granted that a man this confident must have +the stars behind him. They regarded him thoughtfully as he went on by. +No one moved. They were a philosophical people. When he had gone, +taking the boy and girl with him, they discussed it thoroughly.</p> + +<p>Out under the sky at last it was pitch black and the stars were +shining. Travis realized that he had been in the sewer almost a full +24 hours. That meant that the eclipse was done, tomorrow would be a +good day. There was not much time.</p> + +<p>He commandeered the first carriage to come by, routing three elegantly +dressed but unwarlike young men who fled in terror. He saw with relief +that they thought him only another sewer rat, for if word of an +Earthman robbing the local citizens ever got out there would be hell +to pay, and in addition to his other troubles he could not abide that. +He told Navel to head for the field where old 29 rested. Thoroughly +bushed and beginning now to feel a woeful hunger, he sat back to +brood.</p> + +<p>At the ship young Trippe greeted him with haggard astonishment. He +jumped forward joyfully.</p> + +<p>"Trav! By jig, Trav, I thought we'd lost you. Old Dolly's over at the +local police sta—" He stopped abruptly and stood slack-jawed as Navel +and Lappy clambered fearfully through the lock. Travis glanced back. +No spectators. Good.</p> + +<p>"Now what in the sweet silly name—" Trippe began, but Travis stopped +him.</p> + +<p>"Russ, be a good kid. See if you can get me something to eat. Haven't +had a bite in 24 hours."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Trav, sure, only—what's with the Lower Depths here?"</p> + +<p>"You might show them the showers," Travis grinned. "Or at least turn +on the air conditioning. But listen, anything new on the contract?"</p> + +<p>Trippe's face fell. "Not a thing. Even worse. Let me tell you. But ho, +the food." He dashed off. Travis collapsed into a chair. A few moments +later Trippe came back bearing food, but his eyes by now had begun to +penetrate the dirt of the girl, and he stood watching her, bemused. +Then suddenly he began to look happier than he had in several days. +Travis told him briefly what had happened in the sewer, also about the +brains of Lappy. Trippe was impressed. But he continued to regard the +girl.</p> + +<p>"Well," Travis said, munching, "fill me in on what's been going on. +The eclipse come off?"</p> + +<p>Trippe jerked. He focussed on Travis unhappily.</p> + +<p>"Oh boy, did it come off. Wait'll you hear. Listen, you know the way +it is now, I think they're going to kick <i>all</i> Earthmen off this +planet. The M.C. says we may have to leave and come back a hundred +years from now. Not anybody going to get a contract now."</p> + +<p>"What happened?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you wouldn't believe it. You have to understand these people's +astrology. You know the little moon these people have—Felda, they +call it—it's only a tiny thing, really only a few hundred yards wide. +Well, when the Mapping Command first came by here they set down on +that Moon and set up a listening post before landing, you know, the +way they always do, to size up the situation through telescopes, +radio, all that. Mostly they just orbit but this time they landed. God +knows why. And took off again, naturally, throwing in the star drive. +So today the eclipse comes off all right, but it comes off late."</p> + +<p>He could not help smiling.</p> + +<p>"You see what happened. A star drive is a hell of a force. It altered +the orbit of the moon. Not enough to make any real difference, just a +few hours a year, only minutes a day, but boy, you want to hear these +people howl. And I guess you can see their point. Every movement that +damn moon makes is important to them, they know where it should be to +the inch. And now not only is it slightly off course, but so is every +ephemeris printed on Mert. And they have them printed up, I +understand, for the next thousand years. Which runs into money. We +offered to pay, of course, but paying isn't going to help. It seems +we've also messed up interpretations, predictions, the whole doggone +philosophy. Oh it's a real ding dong. But contract? Not in a million +years."</p> + +<p>Travis sighed. That seemed to put the cap on it, all right. After +all, when you start pushing people's moons around, where will it end? +He brooded, his appetite gone. But he made a last effort.</p> + +<p>"Did you discover anything at all we could use?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. Not a thing. I finally figured the only thing to do was work on +the astrology end of it, you know, maybe we could argue about +interpretations. These people love to argue about interpretations. But +no soap. It's too complicated. To learn enough even to argue would +take a couple of years. And besides Unico is here, and also Randall, +and they all have the same idea. Anyway, I don't think it would work. +The eclipse is too definite. You can't argue the eclipse."</p> + +<p>"Well," Travis said with approval, "you were on the right track. You +did what you could. At least we got <i>something</i> out of the deal." He +indicated Lappy, who was at that moment fervidly examining the +interior of the viewscreen.</p> + +<p>Trippe nodded, but his eyes were on Navel.</p> + +<p>"By jing," he said suddenly, "your luck holds good, no matter what. I +never saw the beat of it—"</p> + +<p>"Luck?" Travis fumed, "what luck?"</p> + +<p>"Look, Trav, what else could you call it? You fall in a sewer, you +come up with Isaac Newton and a gorgeous doll. It's uncanny, that's +what it is, uncanny."</p> + +<p>Travis lapsed into wordless musing on Navel, planets, people.</p> + +<p>Come to think of it, he thought, it <i>is</i> uncanny.</p> + +<p>At that moment there was a pounding on the lock. Travis quickly shooed +Navel and Lappy into hiding, then cautiously went to the door. He +relaxed. It was Ed Horton.</p> + +<p>"I saw you come back, Trav. Mighty glad. But I knew you'd make it. Old +Pat Travis always comes through. Aint that right, Pat?"</p> + +<p>He tottered in the doorway. Travis caught the sweet scent of strong +brew. He stepped forward to help him but Horton stood up grandly, +waving him away. His mouth creased in an amiable grin.</p> + +<p>"Diomed," he announced proudly, "is a nine planet system."</p> + +<p>After which he fell backwards out of the door.</p> + +<p>Trav ran to the door, stared down into the dark. Horton sat upright at +the foot of the ladder.</p> + +<p>"Sall right ole buddy. Dint mean to stay. Only thought you'd like to +know natural sci-yen-tiffy fack. Diomed is nine plan' system."</p> + +<p>He rose on wobbly but cheerful legs.</p> + +<p>"No favoritism there, hey? Science. I just tell you a fack, you take +it from there. No favoritism tall."</p> + +<p>He lurched away mumbling cheerily, his obligation fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Travis stared after him, wheels turning in his brain. Fack? A nine +planet system. It jelled slowly, then broke.</p> + +<p>Nine planets.</p> + +<p>The key.</p> + +<p>He turned slowly on Trippe, his eyes swivelling like twin dark cannon.</p> + +<p>"What's he say?" Trippe said, half-smiling. "Boy, he was sure—"</p> + +<p>"Did you know this was a nine planet system?"</p> + +<p>"Why ... sure, Trav. But what—"</p> + +<p>"And did you take the trouble to examine their astrology?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. What the heck—"</p> + +<p>"And you call it luck." Travis sighed, then broke into a radiant grin. +"Why there's your bloomin' answer, you sad silly dreamin'—there's +your bloomin' answer!" He sailed over to a drawer, grabbed a batch of +fresh contracts, then flashed toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Hold the fort," he bawled over his shoulder, "break out a big bottle +and small glasses! We got a contract, lad, we got a contract!"</p> + +<p>He vanished triumphantly into the night.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Old 29 was homing. Travis felt the great soft peace of deep space +close over him. All was right with the world. A clean and sparkling +Navel, well-bathed now and almost frighteningly beautiful, sat +worshipfully at his feet dressed in a pair of Dahlinger's pajamas. +Both Trippe and Dahlinger were regarding him with wonder and delight, +and as he sat gazing down at them fondly he recalled with pleasure the +outraged faces of the men from Unico, that robber outfit.</p> + +<p>"Pat Travis," he chuckled, patting the fat contract in his pocket, +"the luckless Pat Travis rides again." He turned an eye on the staring +Trippe.</p> + +<p>"My boy," he said paternally, "speaks me no speaks about luck, from +this day forth. All the material was in your hands, there was no luck +involved. All you had to do was use it."</p> + +<p>"But Trav, I still don't get it. I've been thinkin' all night, all the +while you were gone...."</p> + +<p>"The planet Pluto," Travis said evenly, "was discovered by Earthmen, +finally, in the year 1930. At that time we were approximately 300 +years ahead, technologically, of the people of Mert. A similar case +exists for Neptune, which was not discovered, although adequate +telescopes had long been in use, until 1846." He paused and gazed +happily around. "Does the light dawn?"</p> + +<p>"Holy cow!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Diomed is a nine planet system. For which 'fack' thank old +Ed Horton, who returned a favor done many years ago. Luck? Only if +doing favors for people is lucky. Which I suppose you could make a +case for. But in the astrology of Diomed III—an astrology I took +great pains to understand—how many planets are considered? Let us +examine. Rym, Fors, Lyndal, Bonken, Huck, Weepen, and Sharb. And then +there are also the two 'lights,' that is, the sun and the moon. But +how many <i>planets</i> are there? Counting Mert as one, add them up. It +comes out eight. Not nine. Eight. But Diomed is a nine planet system. +Bless Ed Horton. What happened to the missing planet?"</p> + +<p>Dahlinger <span class="g">whooped</span>. "They didn't know they had one!"</p> + +<p>Travis grinned. "With surety. They didn't know it existed. If they had +their astrology would certainly have shown it. So it had obviously, +like our own Pluto at a similar time, never been discovered."</p> + +<p>He paused once again while Dahlinger and Trippe regarded him with +delight.</p> + +<p>"And you," Trippe said, "you showed them where it was."</p> + +<p>Travis clucked. "I did not. For one thing, I didn't know where it was. +I simply told him, very regretfully, that there <i>was</i> one, but the +situation being what it was, I couldn't allow him to use our +telescopes to plot its orbit. Unless, you see, there existed a +concrete agreement between us.</p> + +<p>"I added that I had heard that Earthmen would shortly be leaving his +planet. Very unhappily I told him he could not expect to produce a +telescope of the necessary power within at least the next hundred +years. And even then, it would be many more years before they actually +found it. I was very sorry about the whole business, so I just thought +I'd drop by to offer my regrets."</p> + +<p>"And he leaped at the chance."</p> + +<p>"No. You rush to conclusions. He did not leap at the chance. He sat +very quietly thinking about it. It was a gruesome sight. I could +sympathize with him. On the one hand he had us, the unknown, +moon-moving Us, with which he wanted no traffic whatever. But on the +other side there was the knowledge of that planet moving all unwatched +out in the black, casting down its radiations, be they harmful or +good, and no way to know in what sign the thing was, or what house, or +what effect it would have on him, <i>was having</i> on him, even as he sat +there. Oh he struggled, but I knew I had him. He signed the contract. +I think I may say, that it is among the most liberal contracts we have +ever signed."</p> + +<p>There was a long moment of silence in the ship. The young men sat +grinning foolishly.</p> + +<p>"So let me hear no more about luck," said Travis firmly. "In the +future, sons, put your shoulders to the wheel...."</p> + +<p>But the attention of the two was already wandering. They were both +beginning to gaze once more upon the lovely Navel, who was quite shyly +but very womanly gazing back. He saw Trippe look at Dahlinger, +Dahlinger glare at Trippe, their hackles rising. He looked down at +Navel in alarm.</p> + +<p>Born to cause trouble?</p> + +<p>Oh no, he thought abruptly, seeing a whole new world beginning to open +up, oh no, oh no....</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Conquest Over Time, by Michael Shaara + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONQUEST OVER TIME *** + +***** This file should be named 31652-h.htm or 31652-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/6/5/31652/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Conquest Over Time + +Author: Michael Shaara + +Release Date: March 15, 2010 [EBook #31652] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONQUEST OVER TIME *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe November 1956. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + +[_"Now this here planet," he said cautiously, "is whacky in + a lot of ways. First of all they call it Mert. Just plain Mert. And + they live in houses strictly from Dickens, all carriages, no sewers, + narrow streets, stuff like that." But that wasn't all.... Travis, in + reaching Diomed III before any others, found himself waging a one-man + fight against more than this; he was bucking the strangest way of life + you have ever heard of!_] + + + conquest over time + + + by ... Michael Shaara + + + What was the startling secret of Diomed III that almost + caused Travis to lose his life? And who was Lappy?... + + * * * * * + + + + +When the radiogram came in it was 10:28 ship's time and old 29 was +exactly 3.4 light years away from Diomed III. Travis threw her wide +open and hoped for the best. By 4:10 that same afternoon, minus three +burned out generators and fronting a warped ion screen, old 29 touched +the atmosphere and began homing down. It was a very tense moment. +Somewhere down in that great blue disc below a Mapping Command ship +sat in an open field, sending up the beam which was guiding them down. +But it was not the Mapping Command that was important. The Mapping +Command was always first. What mattered now was to come in second, any +kind of second, close or wide, mile or eyelash, but second come hell +or high water. + +The clouds peeled away. Travis staring anxiously down could see +nothing but mist and heavy cloud. He could not help sniffing the air +and groaning inwardly. There is no smell quite as expensive as that of +burned generators. He could hear the Old Man repeating over and over +again--as if Allspace was not one of the richest companies in +existence--"burned generators, boy, is burned _money_, and don't you +forget it!" Fat chance me forgetting it, Travis thought gloomily, +twitching his nostrils. But a moment later he did. + +For Diomed III was below him. + +And Diomed III was an Open Planet. + +It happened less often, nowadays, that the Mapping Command ran across +intelligent life, and it was even less often that the intelligent life +was humanoid. But when it happened it was an event to remember. For +space travel had brought with it two great problems. The first was +Contact, the second was Trade. For many years Man had prohibited +contact with intelligent humanoids who did not yet have space travel, +on the grounds of the much-discussed Maturity Theory. As time went by, +however, and humanoid races were discovered which were biologically +identical with Man, and as great swarms of completely alien, often +hostile races were also discovered, the Maturity Theory went into +discard. A human being, ran the new slogan, is a Human Being, and so +came the first great Contact Law, which stated that any humanoid race, +regardless of its place on the evolutionary scale, was to be +contacted. To be accepted, "yea, welcomed," as the phrase went, into +the human community. And following this, of course, there came Trade. +For it was the businessmen who had started the whole thing in the +first place. + +Hence the day of the Open Planet. A humanoid race was discovered by +the Mapping Command, the M.C. made its investigation, and then sent +out the Word. And every company in the Galaxy, be it monstrous huge or +piddling small, made a mad rush to be first on the scene. The +Government was very strict about the whole business, the idea being +that planets should make their contracts with companies rather than +the government itself, so that if any shady business arose the company +at fault could be kicked out, and there would be no chance of a +general war. Also, went the reasoning, under this system there would +be no favorites. Whichever company, no matter its resources, had a +ship closest at the time of the call, was the one to get first +bargaining rights. Under this setup it was very difficult for any one +company to grow too large, or to freeze any of the others out, and +quite often a single contract on a single planet was enough to +transform a fly-by-night outfit into a major concern. + +So that was the basis of the Open Planet, but there the real story has +only begun. Winning the race did not always mean winning the contract. +It was what you found when you got down that made the job of a Contact +Man one of the most hazardous occupations in history. Each new planet +was wholly and completely new, there were no rules, and what you +learned on all the rest meant nothing. You went from a matriarchy +which refused absolutely to deal with men (the tenth ship to arrive +had a lady doctor and therefore got the contract) to a planet where +the earth was sacred and you couldn't dig a hole in it so mining was +out, to a planet which considered your visit the end of the world and +promptly committed mass suicide. The result of this was that a +successful Contact Man had to be a remarkable man to begin with: a +combined speed demon, sociologist, financier, diplomat and geologist, +all in one. It was a job in which successful men not only made +fortunes, they made legends. It was that way with Pat Travis. + +Sitting at the viewscreen, watching the clouds whip by and the first +dark clots of towns beginning to shape below, Travis thought about the +legend. He was a tall, frail, remarkably undernourished looking man +with large soft brown eyes. He did not look like a legend and he knew +it, and, being a man of great pride, it bothered him. More and more, +as the years went by, his competitors blamed his success on luck. It +was not Pat Travis that was the legend, it was the luck of Pat Travis. +Over the years he had learned not to argue about it, and it was only +during these past few months, when his luck had begun to slip, that he +mentioned it at all. + +Luck no more makes a legend, he knew, than raw courage makes a +fighter. But legends die quick in deep space, and his own had been +a-dying for a good long while now, while other lesser men, the luck +all theirs, plucked planet after planet from under his nose. Now at +the viewscreen he glanced dolefully across the room at his crew: the +curly-headed young Dahlinger and the profound Mr. Trippe. In contrast +to his own weary relaxation, both of the young men were tensed and +anxious, peering into the screen. They had come to learn under the +great Pat Travis, but in the last few months what they seemed to have +learned most was Luck: if you happened to be close you were lucky and +if you weren't you weren't. But if they were to get anywhere in this +business, Travis knew, they had to learn that luck, more often than +not, follows the man who burns his generators.... + + * * * * * + +He stopped thinking abruptly as a long yellow field came into view. He +saw silver flashing in the sun, and his heart jumped into his throat. +Old 29 settled fast. One ship or two? In the distance he could see the +gray jumbled shapes of a low-lying city. The sun was shining warmly, +it was spring on Diomed III, and across the field a blue river +sparkled, but Travis paid no attention. There was only one silver +gleam. Still he waited, not thinking. But when they were close enough +he saw that he was right. The Mapping Command ship was alone. Old 29, +burned generators and all, had won the race. + +"My boys," he said gravely, turning to the crew, "Pat Travis rides +again!" But they were already around him, pounding him on the back. He +turned happily back to the screen, for the first time beginning to +admire the view. By jing, he thought, what a lovely day! + +That was his first mistake. + +It was not a lovely day. + +It was absolutely miserable. + + * * * * * + +Travis had his first pang of doubt when he stepped out of the ship. + +The field was empty, not a native in sight. But Dahlinger was out +before him, standing waist high in the grass and heaving deep lungfuls +of the flower-scented air. He yelled that he could already smell the +gold. + +"I say, Trav," Trippe said thoughtfully from behind him, "where's the +fatted calf?" + +"In this life," Travis said warily, "one is often disappointed." A +figure climbed out of a port over at the Mapping Command ship and came +walking slowly toward them. Travis recognized him and grinned. + +"Hey, Hort." + +"Hey Trav," Horton replied from a distance. But he did not say +anything else. He came forward with an odd look on his face. Travis +did not understand. Ed Horton was an old buddy and Ed Horton should be +happy to see him. Travis felt his second pang. This one went deep. + +"Anybody beat us here?" + +"No. You're the first, Trav." + +Dahlinger whooped. Travis relaxed slightly and even the glacial Trippe +could not control a silly grin. + +Horton caught a whiff of air from the open lock. + +"B u r n e d generators? You must've come like hell." His face showed his +respect. Between burning a generator and blowing one entirely there is +only a microscopic distance, and it takes a very steady pilot indeed +to get the absolute most out of his generators without also spreading +himself and his ship over several cubic miles of exploded space. + +"Like a striped-tailed ape," Dahlinger chortled. "Man, you should see +the boss handle a ship. I thought every second we were going to +explode in technicolor." + +"Well," Horton said feebly. "Burned generators. Shame." + +He lowered his eyes and began toeing the ground. Travis felt suddenly +ill. + +"What's the matter, Hort?" + +Horton shrugged. "I hate like heck to be the one to tell you, Trav, +but seein' as I know you, they sent me--" + +"Tell me what?" Now Dahlinger and Trippe both realized it and were +suddenly silent. + +"Well, if only you'd taken a little more time. But not you, not old +Pat Travis. By damn, Pat, you came in here like a downhill +locomotive, it ain't my fault--" + +"Hort, straighten it out. What's not your fault?" + +Horton sighed. + +"Listen, it's a long story. I've got a buggy over here to take you +into town. They're puttin' you up at a hotel so you can look the place +over. I'll tell you on the way in." + +"The heck with that," Dahlinger said indignantly, "we want to see the +_man_." + +"You're not goin' to see the man, sonny," Horton said patiently, "You +are, as a matter of fact, the last people on the planet the man wants +to see right now." + +Dahlinger started to say something but Travis shut him up. He told +Trippe to stay with the ship and took Dahlinger with him. At the end +of the field was a carriage straight out of Seventeenth Century +England. And the things that drew it--if you closed your eyes--looked +reasonably similar to horses. The three men climbed aboard. There was +no driver. Horton explained that the 'horses' would head straight for +the hotel. + +"Well all right," Travis said, "what's the story?" + +"Don't turn those baby browns on me," Horton said gloomily, "I would +have warned you if I could, but you know the law says we can't show +favoritism...." + +Travis decided the best thing to do was wait with as much patience as +possible. After a while Horton had apologized thoroughly and +completely, although what had happened was certainly not his fault, +and finally got on with the tale. + +"Now this here planet," he said cautiously, "is whacky in a lot of +ways. First off they call it Mert. Mert. Fine name for a planet. Just +plain Mert. And they live in houses strictly from Dickens, all +carriages, no sewers, narrow streets, stuff like that. With technology +roughly equivalent to seventeenth century. But now--see there, see +that building over there?" + +Travis followed his pointing finger through the trees. A large white +building of blinding marble was coming slowly into view. Travis' eyes +widened. + +"You see? Just like the blinkin' Parthenon, or Acropolis, whichever it +is. All columns and frescoes. In the middle of a town looks just like +London. Makes no sense, but there it is. And that's not all. Their +government is Grecian too, complete with Senate and Citizens. No +slaves though. Well not exactly. You couldn't call them slaves. Or +could you? Heck of a question, that--" He paused to brood. Travis +nudged him. + +"Yes. Well, all that is minor, next to the big thing. This is one of +two major countries on the planet. There's a few hill tribes but these +make up about 90 percent of the population, so you have to deal with +these. They never go to war, well maybe once in a while, but not very +often. So no trouble there. The big trouble is one you'd never guess, +not in a million years." + +He stared at Travis unhappily. + +"The whole planet's run on astrology." + +He waited for a reaction. Travis said nothing. + +"It ain't funny," Horton said. "When I say run on astrology I mean +really run. Wait'll you hear." + +"I'm not laughing," Travis said. "But is that all? In this business +you learn to respect the native customs, so if all we have to do--" + +"I ain't finished yet," Horton said ominously, "you don't get the +point. _Everything_ these people do is based on astrology. And that +means business too, lad, business too. Every event that happens on +this cockeyed world, from a picnic to a wedding to a company merger or +a war, it's all based on astrology. They have it down so exact they +even tell you when to sneeze. You ought to see the daily paper. Half +of it's solid astrological guidance. All the Senators not only have +astrologers, they _are_ astrologers. And get this: every man and woman +and child alive on this planet was catalogued the day he was born. His +horoscope was drawn up by the public astrologer--a highly honored +office--and his future laid out according to what the horoscope said. +If his horoscope indicates a man of stature and responsibility, he +_becomes_, by God, a man of stature and responsibility. You have to +see it to believe it. Kids with good horoscopes are sent to the best +schools, people fight to give them jobs. Well, take the courts, for +example. When they're trying a case, do they talk about evidence? They +do not. They call in a legal astrologer--there's all kinds of branches +in the profession--and this joker all by himself determines the guilt +or innocence of the accused. By checking the aspects. Take a wedding. +Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Does boy go see girl? No. He heads +straight for an astrologer. The girl's horoscope is on file in the +local city hall, just like everybody else. The astrologer compares the +charts and determines whether the marriage will be a good one. He is, +naturally, a marital astrologer. He gives the word. If he says no they +don't marry. + +"I could go on for hours. But you really have to see it. Take the case +of people who want to have children. They want them born, naturally, +at the time of the best possible aspects, so they consult an +astrologer and he gives them a list of the best times for a baby to be +conceived. These times are not always convenient, sometimes it's 4:18 +in the morning and sometimes it's 2:03 Monday afternoon. Yet this is a +legitimate excuse for getting out of work. A man goes in, tells his +boss it's breeding time, and off he goes without a penny docked. Build +a better race, they say. Of course the gestation period is variable, +and they never do hit it right on the nose, and also there are still +the natural accidents, so quite a few are born with terrible +horoscopes--" + +"Holy smoke!" Travis muttered. The possibilities of it blossomed in +his mind. He began to understand what was coming. + +"Now you begin to see?" Horton went on gloomily. "Look what an +Earthman represents to these people. We are the unknown, the +completely capital U Unknown. Everybody else is a certain definite +quantity, his horoscope is on file and every man on Mert has access to +all his potentialities, be they good, bad or indifferent. But not us. +They don't know when we were born, or where, and even if they did it +it wouldn't do them any good, because they haven't got any system +covering Mars and Jupiter, the planets at home. Everybody else is +catalogued, but not us." + +"And just because they believe so thoroughly in their own astrology +they've gotten used to the idea that a man is what his horoscope says +he is." + +"But us? What are we? They haven't the vaguest idea, and it scares +hell out of them. The only thing they can do is check with one of the +branches, what they call Horary Astrology, and make a horoscope of the +day we landed. Even if that tells them nothing about us in particular +at least it tells them, or so they believe, all about our mission to +Mert. Because the moment our ship touched the ground was the birth +date of our business here." + +He paused and regarded Travis with woeful sympathy. + +"With us, luckily, it was all right. The Mapping Command just happened +to hit here on a good day. But you? Trav, old buddy, for once you came +just too damn fast--" + +"Oh my God," Travis breathed. "We landed on a bad day." + +"Bad?" Horton sighed. "Man, it's _terrible_." + + * * * * * + +"You see," Horton said as they drove into the town, "not a soul on the +streets. This is not only a bad day, this is one for the books. +To-morrow, you see, there is an eclipse. And to these people there is +nothing more frightening than an eclipse. During the entire week +preceding one they won't do a darn thing. No business, no weddings, no +anything. The height of it will be reached about tomorrow noon. Their +moon--which is a tiny little thing not much bigger than our first +space station--is called Felda. It is very important in their +astrology. And for all practical purposes the eclipse is already in +force. I knew you were riding in down the base so I checked it out. It +not only applies to you, other things cinch it." + +He pulled a coarse sheet of paper from his pocket and read from it in +a wishful voice: "With Huck, planet of necessity, transiting the 12th +house of endings and things hidden, squaring Bonken, planet of gain, +in the ninth house of travellers and distant places, it is +unquestionable that the visit of these--uh--persons bodes ill for +Mert. If further proof is needed, one need only examine the position +of Diomed, which is conjunct Huck, and closely square to Lyndal, in +the third house of commerce, etc, etc. You see what I mean? On top of +this yet an eclipse. Trav, you haven't got a prayer. If only you +hadn't been so close. Two days from now would have been great. Once +the eclipse ends--" + +"Well, listen," Travis said desperately, "couldn't we just see the +guy?" + +"Take my advice. Don't. He has expressed alarm at the thought that you +might come near him. Also his guards are armed with blunderbusses. +They may be a riot to look at, but those boys can shoot, believe me. +Give you a contract? Trav, he wouldn't give you a broom to sweep out +his cellar." + +At that moment they drew up before an enormous marble building vaguely +reminiscent of a Theban palace. It turned out to be the local hotel. +Horton stopped on the threshold and handed them two of the tiny +Langkits, the little black memory banks in which the language of Mert +had been transcribed for their use by the Mapping Command. Travis +slipped his automatically into position behind his ear, but he felt no +need to know the language. This one was going to be tough. He glanced +at Dahlinger. The kid was wearing a stunned expression, too dulled +even to notice the pantalooned customer--first Merts they'd +seen--eyeing them fearfully from behind pillars as they passed. + +Smell that gold, Travis remembered wistfully. Then, smell those +generators. Oh, he thought sinkingly, smell those generators. They +went silently on up to the room. + +Travis stopped at the door as a thought struck him. + +"Listen," he said cautiously, taking Horton by the arm, "haven't you +thought of this? Why don't we just take off and start all over, orbit +around for a couple of days, pick a good hour, and then come back +down. That way we'll be starting all--" + +But Horton was gazing at him reproachfully. + +"They have a word for that, Trav," he said ominously, "they call it +_vetching_. Worst crime a man can commit. Attempt to evade his stars. +Equivalent almost to falsifying a horoscope. No siree, boy, for that +they burn you very slowly. The first horoscope stands. All your +subsequent actions, according to them, date from the original. You'll +just be bearing out the first diagnosis. You'll be a vetcher." + +"Um," Travis said. "If they feel that way, why the heck do they even +let us stay?" + +"Shows you the way the system works. This is a bad day for everything. +Coming as well as going. They'd never think of asking you to start a +trip on a day like this. No matter who you are." + +Travis collapsed into an old, vaguely Chippendale chair. His position +was not that of a man sitting, it was that of a man dropped from a +great height. + +"Well," Horton said. "So it goes. And listen, Trav, there was nothing +I could do." + +"Sure, Hort." + +"I just want you to know I'm sorry. I know they've been kickin' you +around lately, and don't think I don't feel I owe you something. After +all, if you hadn't--" + +"Easy," Travis said, glancing at Dahlinger. But the kid's ears perked. + +"Well," H o r t o n murmured, "just so's you know. Anyways I still got +faith in you. And Unico will be in the same boat. If they get here +tonight. So think about it. Let me see the old Pat Travis. Your luck +has to change sometime." + +He clenched a fist, then left. + +Travis sat for a long while in the chair. Dahlinger muttered something +very bitter about luck. Travis thought of telling him that it was not +luck that had put them so close to Mert, but a very grim and expensive +liaison with a ferociously ugly Mapping Command secretary at +Aldebaran. She had told him that there was a ship in this area. But +this news was not for Dahlinger's ears. And neither did he think it +wise to explain to Dahlinger the thing he had done for Horton some +years ago. Young Dolly was not yet ripe. Travis sighed and looked +around for a bed. To his amusement he noted a four poster in the +adjoining room. He went in and lay down. + +Gradually the dullness began to wear off. There was a resiliency in +Travis unequalled, some said, by spring steel. He began to ponder ways +and means. + +There was always a way. There had to be a way. Somewhere in the +customs of this planet there was a key--but he did not have the time. +Unico would be in tonight, others would be down before the week was +out. And the one to land in two days, on the _good_ day, would get the +contract. + +He twisted on the bed. Luck, luck, the hell with luck. If you were +born with sense you were lucky and if a meteor fell on you, you were +unlucky, but most of the rest of it was even from there on out. So if +the legend was to continue.... + +He became gradually aware of the clock in the ceiling. + +In the ceiling? + +He stared at it. The symbols and the time meant nothing, but the clock +was embedded flat in the ceiling above the bed, facing directly down. + +He pondered that for a moment. Then he exploded with laughter. By +jing, of course. They would have to know what time the baby was +conceived. So all over Mert, in thousands of homes, there were clocks +in the bedrooms, clocks in the ceilings, and wives peering anxiously +upward murmured sweetly in their husbands' ears: 4:17, darling, 4:17 +and a half.... + +The roar of his mirth brought Dolly floundering in from the other +room. Travis sprang from the bed. + +"Listen, son," he bellowed, "luck be damned! You get back to the ship. +Get Mapping Command to let you look at its files, find out everything +you can about Mert. There's a key somewhere, boy, there's an out in +there someplace, if we look hard enough. Luck! Hah! Work, boy, work, +there's a key!" + +He shooed Dahlinger out of the room. The young man left dazedly, but +he had caught some of Travis' enthusiasm. Travis turned back to the +bed feeling unreasonably optimistic. No way out, eh? Well by jingo, +old Pat Travis would ride again, he could feel it in his bones. + +A few moments later he had another feeling in his bones. This one was +much less delightful. He was pacing past a heavy drapery when +something very hard and moving very fast struck him on the head. + + * * * * * + +The first thing Travis saw when he awoke was, unmistakably, the behind +of a young woman. + +His head was lying flat on the floor and the girl was sitting next to +him, her back toward him very close to his face. He stared at it for a +long while without thinking. The pain in his head was enormous, and he +was not used to pain, not any kind of pain. The whiskey men drank +nowadays left no hangovers, and for a normal headache there were +instantaneously acting pills, so Travis on the floor was unused to +pain. And though he was by nature a courageous man it took him a while +to be able to think at all, much less clearly. + +Eventually he realized that he was lying on a very hard floor. His +arms and legs were tightly bound. He investigated the floor. It was +brick. It was wet. The dark ceiling dripped water in the flickering +light from some source beyond the girl. The brick, the dripping water, +the girl, all combined to make it completely unbelievable. If it +wasn't for the pain he would have rolled over and gone to sleep. But +the pain. Yes the pain. He closed his eyes and lay still, hurting. + +When he opened his eyes again he was better. By jing, this was +ridiculous. Not a full day yet on Mert and in addition to his other +troubles, now this. He did not feel alarmed, only downright angry. +This business of the flickering light and being tied hand and foot was +too impossible to be dangerous. He grunted feebly at the back of the +girl. + +"Ho," he said. "Now what in the sweet name of Billy H. Culpepper is +this?" + +The girl turned and looked down at him. She swiveled around on her +hips and a rag-bound foot kicked him unconcernedly in the side. For +the first time he saw the other two men behind her. There were two of +them. The look of them was ridiculous. + +The girl said something. It was a moment before he realized she was +speaking in Mert, which he had to translate out of the Langkit behind +his ear. + +"The scourge awakes," one of the men said. + +"A joy. It was my thought that in the conjunction was done perhaps +murder." + +"Poot. One overworries. And if death comes to this one, observe, will +the money be paid? Of a surety. But this is bizarre." + +"Truly bizarre," the girl nodded. Then to make her point, "also +curious, unique, unusual. My thought: from what land he comes?" + +"The cloth is rare," one of the men said, "observe with tight eyes the +object on his wrist. A many-symboled engine--" + +"_My_ engine," the girl said positively. She reached down for his +watch. + +Travis jerked back. "Lay off there," he bawled in English, "you +hipless--" The girl recoiled. He could not see her face but her tone +was puzzled. + +"What language is this? He speaks with liquid." + +The larger of the two men arose and came over to him. + +"Speak again scourge. But first empty the mouth." + +Travis glared at the man's feet, which were wrapped in dirty cloth and +smelt like the breezes blowing softly over fresh manure. + +"Speak again? Speak again? Untie my hands, you maggoty slob, and I'll +speak your bloody--" he went on at great length, but the man ignored +him. + +"Truly, he speaks as with a full mouth. But this is not Bilken talk." + +"Nor is he, of clarity and also profundity, a hill man," the girl +observed. + +"Poot. Pootpoot," the young man stuttered, "the light! He is of +_Them_!" + +It took the other two a moment to understand what he meant, but Travis +caught on immediately. May the Saints preserve us, he thought, they +figured I was from Mert. He chuckled happily to himself. A natural +mistake. Only one Earthman on this whole blinking planet, puts up at a +good hotel, best in town, these boys put the snatch on me thinking I'm +a visiting VIP, loaded, have no idea I'm just poor common trash like +the rest of us Earthmen. Haw! His face split in a wide grin. He +gathered his words from the Langkit and began to speak in Mert. + +"Exactly, friends. With clarity one sees that you have been misled. I +am not of Mert. I am from a far world, come here to deal with your +Senate in peace. Untie me, then, and let us erase this sad but +eraseable mistake with a good handshake all around, and a speedy +farewell." + +It did not have the effect he desired. The girl stepped back from +him, a dark frown on her face, and the large man above him spoke +mournfully. + +"Where now is the ransom?" + +"And the risk," the girl said. "Was not there great risk?" + +"Unhappily," the tall man observed. "One risks. One should be repaid. +It is in the nature of things that one is repaid." + +"Well now, boys," Travis put in from the floor, "you see it +yourselves. I'm flat as a--" he paused. Apparently the Merts had no +word for pancake. "My pockets are--windy. No money is held therein." + +"Still," the tall man mused absently, "this must have friends. On the +great ships lie things of value. Doubt?" + +"Not," the girl said firmly. "But I see over the hills coming a +problem." + +"How does it appear?" + +"In the shape of disposal. See thee. Such as will come from the great +ships, of value though it be, can it not be clarifiably identified by +such pootian authorities as presently seek our intestines?" + +"Ha!" the tall man snorted in anger. "So. Truth shapes itself." + +"Will we not, then," continued the girl, "risk sunlight on our +intestines in pursuing this affair?" + +"We will," the young man spoke up emphatically. "We will of +inevitability. Navel. Our risk is unpaid. So passes the cloud." + +"But in freedom for this," the girl warily indicated Travis, "lies +risk in great measure. Which way lie his ribs? Can we with profit +slice his binds? He is of Them. What coils in his head? What strikes?" + +They were all silent. Travis, having caught but not deciphered most of +the conversation, glanced quickly from face to face. The girl had +backed out into the light and he could see her now clearly, and his +mouth fell open. She was thickly coated with dirt but she was +absolutely beautiful. The features were perfect, lovely, the mouth was +promising and full. Under the ragged skirt and the torn sooty blouse +roamed surfaces of imaginable perfection. He had difficulty getting +back to the question at hand. All the while he was thinking other +voices inside him were whispering. "By jing, by jing, she's +absolutely...." + +The two men were completely unlike. One was huge, from this angle he +was enormous. He had what looked like a dirty scarf on his head, +madonna-like, which would have been ridiculous except for the +mountainous shoulders below it and the glittering knife stuck in his +wide leather belt. The shaft of the knife flickered wickedly in the +light. It was the only clean thing about him. + +The other man was young, probably still in his teens. Curly-haired and +blond and much cleaner than the other two, with a softness in his face +the others lacked. But in his belt he carried what appeared to +be--what was, a well-oiled and yawning barreled blunderbuss. + +So they sat for a long moment of silence. He had time to observe that +what they were sitting in was in all likelihood a sewer. It ran off +into darkness but there was a dim light in the distance and other +voices far away, and he gathered that this was not all of +the--gang--that had abducted him. But it was beginning to penetrate, +now, as he began to understand their words, that they were unhappy +about letting him go. He was about to argue the point when the big man +stepped suddenly forward and knelt beside him. He shut out the light, +Travis could not see. The last thing he heard was the big man grunting +as he threw the blow, like a rooting pig. + + * * * * * + +When he awoke this time the pain had moved over to the side of his +neck. There was no light at all and he lay wearily for a long while in +the blackness. He had no idea how much time had passed. He could tell +from the brick wet below him that he was still in the sewer, or at +least some other part of it, and, considering the last turn of the +conversation, he thought he could call himself lucky to be alive. + +But as his strength returned so did his anger. He began to struggle +with his bonds. There was still the problem of the contract. He +regarded that bitterly. He could just possibly die down here, but his +main worry was still the contract. Allspace would be proud of him--but +Allspace might never know. + +He did nothing with the bonds, which he discovered unhappily were raw +leather thongs. Eventually he saw a light coming down the corridor. He +saw with a thrill of real pleasure that it was the girl. The young man +was tagging along behind her but the big man was absent. The girl +knelt down by him and regarded him quizically. + +"Do you possess pain?" + +"Maiden, I possess and possess unto the limits of capacity." + +"My thought is sorrow. But this passes. Consider: your blood remains +wet." + +Travis caught her meaning. He swore feebly. + +"It was very nearly let dry," the girl said. "But solutions conjoined. +It was noted at the last, even as the blade descended, that such +friends as yours could no doubt barter for Mertian coin, untraceable, +thus restoring your value." + +"Clever, clever. Oh, clever," Travis said drily. + +To his surprise, the girl blushed. + +"Overgracious. Overkind. Speed thanks awry of this windy head, aim at +yon Lappy"--she indicated the boy who stood smiling shyly behind +her--"it was he who thought you alive, he my brother." + +"Ah," Travis said. "Well, bless you, boy." He nodded at the boy, who +very nearly collapsed with embarrassment. Travis wondered about this +'brother' bit. Brother in crime? The Langkit did not clarify. But the +girl turned back on him a smile as glowing as a tiny nova. He gazed +cheerfully back. + +"Tude and the others sit now composing your note. A matter of weight, +confounded in darkness." She lowered her eyes becomingly. "Few of us," +she apologized, "have facility in letters." + +"A ransom note," Travis growled. "Great Gods and Little--Tude? Who is +Tude?" + +"The large man who, admittedly hastening before the horse, did plant +pain in your head." + +"Ah," Travis said, smiling grimly. "We shall presently plow his +field--" + +"Ho!" the girl cried, agitated. "Speak not in darkness. Tude extends +both north and south, a man of dimension as well as choler. He boasts +Fors in the tenth in good aspect to Bonken, giving prowess at combat, +and Lyndal in the fourth bespeaks a fair ending. Avoid, odd man, +foreordained disaster." + +In his urge to say a great many things Travis stammered. The girl laid +a cool grimy hand lightly on his arm and tried to soothe him. + +"With passivity and endurance. The night shall see you free. Tude +comes in close moment with the note. Quarrel not at the price, sign, +and there will be a conclusion to the matter. We are not retrograde +here. As we set our tongues, so lie our deeds." + +"Yes, well, all right," Travis grumbled. "But there will come--all +right all right. My name shall be inscribed, let your note contain +what it will. But I would have speed. There are matters of gravity +lying heavily ahead." + +The girl cocked her head oddly to one side. + +"You sit on points. A rare thing. Lies your horoscope in such +confusion that you know not the drift of the coming hours?" + +Travis blinked. + +"Horoscope?" he said. + +"Surely," the girl said, "the astrologers of your planet did preach +warning to you of the danger of this day, and whether, in the motions +of your system, lay success or failure. Or is it a question of varying +interpretations? Did one say you good while the other--" + +Travis grinned broadly. Then he sobered. It would quite logically +follow that these people, primitive as they were, might not be able to +conceive of a land where astrology was not Lord over all. A human +trait. But he saw dangerous ground ahead. He began very cautiously and +diplomatically to explain himself, saying that while astrology was +practiced among his own people, it had not yet become as exact an art +as it was on Mert, and only a few had as yet learned to trust it. + +The effect on the girl was startling. She seemed for a moment actually +terrified when it was finally made clear to her. She abruptly +retreated into a corner with her brother and mumbled low frantic +sounds. Travis grinned to himself but kept his face stoically calm. +But now the girl was out in the light and he could examine her clearly +for the first time, and he forgot about astrology entirely. + +She was probably in her early twenties. She was dirtier than a +well-digger's shoes. She ran with a pack of cutthroats and thieves in +what was undoubtedly the lowest possible level of Mertian society. But +there was something about her, something Travis responded to very +strongly, which he could not define. Possibly something about the set +of her hair, which was dark and very long, or perhaps in the +mouth--yes the mouth, now observe the mouth--and also maybe in the +figure.... But he could not puzzle it out. A girl from the gutter. +But--perhaps that was it, there seemed to be no gutter about her. +There was real grace in her movements, a definite style in the way she +held her head, something gentle and very fine. + +Now watch that, Travis boy, he told himself sharply, watch that. A +psychological thing, certainly. She probably reminds you of a long +forgotten view of your mother. + +The girl arose and came back, followed this time by the young man. She +had become suddenly and intensely interested in his world--she had +apparently taken it for granted that it was exactly like hers, only +with space ships--and Travis obliged her by giving a brief sketch of +selected subjects: speeds, wonders, what women wore, and so on. +Gradually he worked the conversation back around to her, and she began +to tell him about herself. + +Her name was, euphonically, Navel. This was not particularly startling +to Travis. Navel is a pretty word and the people of Mert had chosen +another, uglier sound for use when they meant 'belly button,' which +was their right. Travis accepted it, and then listened to her story. + +She had not always been a criminal, run with the sewer packs. She had +come, as a matter of proud record, from an extremely well-to-do family +which featured two Senators, one Horary Astrologer, and a mercantile +tycoon--which accounted, Travis thought, for her air of breeding. The +great tragedy of her life, however, the thing that had brought her to +her present pass, was her abysmally foul horoscope. She had not been a +planned baby. Her parents felt great guilt about it, but the deed was +done and there was no help for it. She had been born with Huck +retrograde in the tenth house, opposing Fors retrograde in the fourth, +and so on, and so on, so that even the most amateur astrologer could +see right at her birth that she was born for no good, destined for +some shameful end. + +She told about it with an air of resigned cheerfulness, saying that +after all her parents had really done more than could be expected of +them. Both with her and her similarly accidental brother Lappy--now +_there_, Travis thought, was a careless couple--whose horoscope, she +said dolefully, was even worse than her own. The parents had sent her +off to school up through the first few years, and had given her a +handsome dowry when they disowned her, and they did the same with +Lappy a few years later. + +But Navel held no bitterness. She was a girl born inevitably for +trouble--her horoscope forecast that she would be a shame to her +parents, would spend much of her life in obscure, dangerous places, +and would reflect no credit on anyone who befriended her. So, for a +child like this, what reasonable citizen would waste time and money +and love, when it was certain beforehand that the child grown up would +be as likely as not to end up a murderess? No, the schools were +reserved for the children of promise, as were the jobs and the parties +and the respect later on. The only logical course, the habitual +custom, was for the parents to disown their evilly aspected children, +hoping only that such tragedies as lay in the future would not be too +severe, and at least would not be connected with the family name. + +And Navel was not bitter. But there was only one place for her, +following her exile from her parents' home. A career in business was +of course impossible. Prospective employers took one look at your +horoscope and--zoom, the door. The only work she could find was menial +in the extreme--dish-washing, street cleaning, and so on. So she +turned, and Lappy turned, as thousands of their ill-starred kind had +turned before them for generations, to the wild gangs of the sewers. + +And it was not nearly so bad as it might have seemed. The sewer gangs +were composed of thousands of people just like herself, homeless, cast +out, and they came from all levels of society to found a society of +their own. They offered each other what none of them could have found +anywhere else on Mert: appreciation, companionship, and even if life +in the sewers was filthy, it was also tolerable, and many even married +and had children--the luckiest of whom quickly disowned their parents +and were adopted by wealthy families. + +But the thing which impressed Travis most of all was that none of +these people were bitter at their fate. Navel could not recall ever +hearing of any organized attempt at rebellion. Indeed, most of the +sewer people believed more strongly in the astrology of Mert than did +the business men on the outside. For each day every one of them could +look at the dirt of himself, at the disease of his surroundings, and +could see that the message of his horoscope was true: he was born to +no good end. And since it had been drummed into these people from +their earliest childhood that only the worst could be expected of +them, they gave in, quite humanly, to the predictions, and went +philosophically forth to live up to them. They watched the daily +horoscopes intently for the Bad Days, realizing that what was bad for +the normal people must be a field day for themselves, and they issued +out of the sewers periodically on binges of robbery, kidnapping, and +worse. In this way they lived up to the promise of their stars, +fulfilled themselves, and also managed to eat. And few if any ever +questioned the justice of their position. + +Travis sat listening, stunned. For a long while the contract and how +to get out of here and all the rest of it was forgotten. He sat +watching the girl and her shy brother as they spoke self-consciously +to him, and began to understand what they must be feeling. Travis was +from outside the sewers, he had stayed at the grand hotel--his +horoscope, whether he believed it or not, must be very fine. And so +they did him unconscious homage, much in the manner of low caste +Hindus speaking to a Bramin. It was unnerving. + +Gradually the boy Lappy began to speak also, and Travis realized with +surprise that the boy was in many ways remarkable. As Navel's +brother--Navel, Travis gathered with a twinge of deep regret, was the +big Tude's 'friend', and Tude was the leader of this particular +gang--young Lappy had a restful position. He was kept out of most of +the rough work end allowed to pursue what he shamelessly called his +'studies', and he guessed proudly that he must have stolen nearly +every book in the Consul's library. His particular hobbies, it turned +out, were math and physics. He had a startling command of both, and +some of the questions he asked Travis were embarrassing. But the boy +was leaning forward, breathlessly drinking in the answers, when Tude +came back. + +The big man loomed over them suddenly on his quiet rag-bound feet, +frightening the boy and causing the girl to flinch. He made a number +of singularly impolite remarks, but Travis said nothing and bided his +time. He regarded the big man with patient joy, considering with +delight such bloodthirsty effects as judo could produce on this +one--Fors and Bonken be damned--if they ever untied his hands. + +Eventually, unable to get a rise out of him, the big man shoved a +paper down before his nose and told him to sign it. He pulled out that +wickedly clean knife and freed Travis' hand just enough for him to +move his wrist. Hoping for the best, Travis signed. Tude chuckled, +said something nastily to the girl, the girl said something chilling +in return, and the big man cuffed her playfully on the shoulder. Then +he lumbered away. + +Travis sat glaring after him. The contract, the need to escape flooded +back into his mind. The eclipse might be ending even now. Unico would +already be here, probably one or two others as well. And this ransom +business might take a week. He swore to himself. Pat Travis, the +terror of the skies, held captive by a bunch of third rate musical +comedy pirates while millions lay in wait in the city above. And oh my +Lord, he thought, stricken, what will people say when they hear--he +had to get out. + +He glanced cautiously at the girl and the boy, who were gazing at him +ingenuously. He saw instantly that the way, if there was a way, lay +through them. But the plan had not yet formed when the boy leaned +forward and spoke. + +"I have an odd thing in my head," Lappy said bashfully, "that +nevertheless radiates joy to my mind. In my reading I have seen things +leap together from many books, forming a whole, and the whole is rare. +Can you, in your wisdom, confirm or deny what I have seen? It is +this--" + +He spoke a short series of sentences. Navel tried to shush him, +embarrassed, but he doggedly went on. And Travis, stricken, found +himself suddenly paying close attention. + +For the words Lappy said, with minor variations, were Isaac Newton's +Laws of Motion. + + * * * * * + +"There are the seven planets," Navel was saying gravely, "and the two +lights--that is, the sun and the moon. The first planet, that nearest +the sun, is called Rym. Rym is the planet of intellect, of the +ordinary mind. Second, is Lyndal, the planet of love, beauty, parties, +marriage, and things of a gentle nature. Third is Fors, planet of +action, strife. Fourth is Bonken, planet of beneficence, of gain, +money, health. Next comes Huck, orb of necessity, the Greater +Infortune, which brings men most trouble of all. Then Weepen, planet +of illusion, of dreamers and poets and, poorly aspected, liars and +cheats. And finally there is Sharb, planet of genius, of sudden +cataclysms." + +"I see," Travis murmured. + +"But it is not only these planets and their aspects which is +important, it is also to be considered such houses and signs as +through which these planets transit...." + +She went on, but Travis was having difficulty following her. He could +not help but return to Newton's Laws. It was incredible. Here on this +backward planet, mired in an era roughly equivalent to the time of the +Renaissance, an event was taking place almost exactly at the same time +as it had happened, long ago, on Earth. It had been Isaac Newton, +then. It was, incredibly, this frail young man named Lappy now. For +unless Travis was greatly mistaken, Navel's kid brother was an +authentic genius. And such a genius as comes once in a hundred years. + +So, naturally, Lappy would have to come home with Travis. The boy was +hardly college age as yet. Sent to school by Allspace, given a place +in the great Allspace laboratories at Aldebaran, young Lappy might +eventually make the loss of the contract at Mert seem puny in +comparison to the things that head of his could produce. For Lappy was +a natural resource, just as certainly as any mine on Mert, and since +the advent of Earth science meant Mert would no longer be needing him, +Lappy could go along with Travis and still leave him a clear +conscience. + +But the question still remained: how? He could not even get himself +out, yet, let alone Lappy. And the girl. What about the girl? + +He brooded, groping for an out. But in the meanwhile he listened while +the girl outlined Mert's system of astrology. He had realized finally +that the key to the business lay there. Astrology was these people's +most powerful motivating force. If he could somehow turn it to his +advantage--He listened to the girl. And eventually found his plan. + +"Ho!" he said abruptly. Startled, the girl stared at him. + +"Lightning in the brain," Travis grinned, "solutions effervesce. +Attend. Of surety, are not _places_ on Mert also ruled by the stars? +Is it not true that towns and villages do also have horoscopes?" + +Navel blinked. + +"Why, see thee, it is in the nature of things, odd man, that all +matter is governed by the planets. How else come explanations, for +example, of natural catastrophes, fires, plagues, which affect whole +cities and not others? And consider war, does not one country win, and +the other lose? Of a surety different aspects obtain...." + +"Joy then," Travis said. "But do further observe. Is it not so, in +your astrology, that a man's horoscope may often conflict with that of +the place wherein he dwells? Is it not so that, often, a man is +promised greater success in other regions, where the ruling stars more +closely and friendlily conjoin his own?" + +"Your mind leaps obstacles and homes to the truth," Navel said +approvingly. "Many times has it been made clear that a man's fortune +lies best in places ruled by his Ascendant, as witness, for example, +those who are advised to take to the sea, or to southern lands...." + +"Intoxication!" Travis cried out happily, "then is our goal made +known. Consider: from your poor natal horoscope, in this city, this +land, no fortune arises. You doom yourself, with Lappy, by remaining +here. But what business is this? Seek you not better times? Could you +not go forth to another place, and so become people of gravity, of +substance, of moment?" + +The girl regarded for a moment, puzzled, then caught his point and +shook her head sadly. + +"Odd man, without profit. You misconstrue. Such as we, my brother and +I, are not condemned by place, but by twistings of the character. My +natal Huck, retrograde in the tenth, gives an untrustworthy, +criminous person. It would be so here, there, anywhere. My pattern is +set. Such travels as you describe are for those who conflict only with +place. I, and my brother, it is our sad fortune to conflict with +_all_." + +"But this is the core," Travis insisted. "The conflict is with _Mert_! +Consider, such travail as is yours stems from the radiations of Huck, +of Weepen, of Scharb. But should you remove yourself beyond their +reach, across great vastnesses of space to where other planets +subtend--and in their alien radiation extinguish and nullify those of +Huck--what fortune comes then? What rises, what leaps in joy?" + +The girl sat speechless, staring at Travis with great soft eyes. The +boy Lappy, who until that moment had been grinning happily over the +news that his laws were true, suddenly understood what Travis was +saying and let his mouth fall open. + +But the girl sat without expression. Then, to Travis' dismay, a slow +dark look of disgust came over her face. + +"This," she said ominously, "this smacks of _vetching_." + +The word fell like a sudden fog. Lappy, who had begun to smile, cut it +sharply off. Travis, remembering what vetching meant to these people, +gathered his forces. + +"Woman," he said bitingly, "you speak in offense, but with patience +and kindness I heal your insult. I control my choler, but my blood +flows hot, therefore fasten your tongue. Tell me not that I have +overvalued you, for your brain is clear, your courage thick. Wherefore +speak of vetch? What vetch is there in travel? He vetches who leaves a +certainty for another certainty, who attempts to avoid his starry +fate. But you go from a certain end to an end not certain at all, to +places of dark mystery, of grim foreboding. It may be that you perish, +or pain in the extreme, as well as gain fortune. The end is not clear. +This then is not vetching. Now retreat your words, and reply to me as +one does to a friend, a companion, one who seeks your good." + +He sat tautly while the girl thought it out. Eventually she dropped +her eyes in submission and he sighed inwardly with relief. It was +accomplished. He would have to shore it up perhaps with a little +elaboration, but it was accomplished. + +Ten minutes later he was standing free and unbound in the passageway. +It was just barely in time. Down the round dark tunnel two men came. + + * * * * * + +Navel stopped gingerly over the bodies and gazed at Travis with +awestruck admiration. + +"A rare skill," she murmured, "they did flip and gyrate as dry leaves +in the wind." + +"Observe then," Travis said ominously, inspecting meanwhile the long +slash down his arm with which Tude had nearly gotten him "and learn. +And in the future receive my words with planetary respect." + +"I will." + +"And I," added Lappy, shaken. + +"Fair. Bright. Now attend. How lies the path?" + +"Through more such as these, I fear. This place in which we trouble +lies at a dead end. We must proceed through great halls where many sit +waiting, ere we arrive at the light." + +"No other way? Think now." + +"None." + +Travis sighed. + +"And they talk about luck. Well boy," he turned to Lappy, "give me +your blunderbuss. Obtain that one's knife"--he indicated the sleeping +Tude--"and let us carve our way out into the sunshine." + +But as it turned out, the getting free was much easier than he had +anticipated. There was only one band, the girl's own, between them and +the opening, and these had fortunately just finished their evening +meal when Travis stalked, black, gaunt and murderous, out of the +tunnel into their large round room. Part of it was the surprise, part +of it was the sudden knowledge that big Tude and the other man had +already tried to stop him, but most of it was simply the look of him. +He was infinitely ready. They were not, had no reason to be, and they +took it automatically for granted that a man this confident must have +the stars behind him. They regarded him thoughtfully as he went on by. +No one moved. They were a philosophical people. When he had gone, +taking the boy and girl with him, they discussed it thoroughly. + +Out under the sky at last it was pitch black and the stars were +shining. Travis realized that he had been in the sewer almost a full +24 hours. That meant that the eclipse was done, tomorrow would be a +good day. There was not much time. + +He commandeered the first carriage to come by, routing three elegantly +dressed but unwarlike young men who fled in terror. He saw with relief +that they thought him only another sewer rat, for if word of an +Earthman robbing the local citizens ever got out there would be hell +to pay, and in addition to his other troubles he could not abide that. +He told Navel to head for the field where old 29 rested. Thoroughly +bushed and beginning now to feel a woeful hunger, he sat back to +brood. + +At the ship young Trippe greeted him with haggard astonishment. He +jumped forward joyfully. + +"Trav! By jig, Trav, I thought we'd lost you. Old Dolly's over at the +local police sta--" He stopped abruptly and stood slack-jawed as Navel +and Lappy clambered fearfully through the lock. Travis glanced back. +No spectators. Good. + +"Now what in the sweet silly name--" Trippe began, but Travis stopped +him. + +"Russ, be a good kid. See if you can get me something to eat. Haven't +had a bite in 24 hours." + +"Sure, Trav, sure, only--what's with the Lower Depths here?" + +"You might show them the showers," Travis grinned. "Or at least turn +on the air conditioning. But listen, anything new on the contract?" + +Trippe's face fell. "Not a thing. Even worse. Let me tell you. But ho, +the food." He dashed off. Travis collapsed into a chair. A few moments +later Trippe came back bearing food, but his eyes by now had begun to +penetrate the dirt of the girl, and he stood watching her, bemused. +Then suddenly he began to look happier than he had in several days. +Travis told him briefly what had happened in the sewer, also about the +brains of Lappy. Trippe was impressed. But he continued to regard the +girl. + +"Well," Travis said, munching, "fill me in on what's been going on. +The eclipse come off?" + +Trippe jerked. He focussed on Travis unhappily. + +"Oh boy, did it come off. Wait'll you hear. Listen, you know the way +it is now, I think they're going to kick _all_ Earthmen off this +planet. The M.C. says we may have to leave and come back a hundred +years from now. Not anybody going to get a contract now." + +"What happened?" + +"Well, you wouldn't believe it. You have to understand these people's +astrology. You know the little moon these people have--Felda, they +call it--it's only a tiny thing, really only a few hundred yards wide. +Well, when the Mapping Command first came by here they set down on +that Moon and set up a listening post before landing, you know, the +way they always do, to size up the situation through telescopes, +radio, all that. Mostly they just orbit but this time they landed. God +knows why. And took off again, naturally, throwing in the star drive. +So today the eclipse comes off all right, but it comes off late." + +He could not help smiling. + +"You see what happened. A star drive is a hell of a force. It altered +the orbit of the moon. Not enough to make any real difference, just a +few hours a year, only minutes a day, but boy, you want to hear these +people howl. And I guess you can see their point. Every movement that +damn moon makes is important to them, they know where it should be to +the inch. And now not only is it slightly off course, but so is every +ephemeris printed on Mert. And they have them printed up, I +understand, for the next thousand years. Which runs into money. We +offered to pay, of course, but paying isn't going to help. It seems +we've also messed up interpretations, predictions, the whole doggone +philosophy. Oh it's a real ding dong. But contract? Not in a million +years." + +Travis sighed. That seemed to put the cap on it, all right. After +all, when you start pushing people's moons around, where will it end? +He brooded, his appetite gone. But he made a last effort. + +"Did you discover anything at all we could use?" + +"Nope. Not a thing. I finally figured the only thing to do was work on +the astrology end of it, you know, maybe we could argue about +interpretations. These people love to argue about interpretations. But +no soap. It's too complicated. To learn enough even to argue would +take a couple of years. And besides Unico is here, and also Randall, +and they all have the same idea. Anyway, I don't think it would work. +The eclipse is too definite. You can't argue the eclipse." + +"Well," Travis said with approval, "you were on the right track. You +did what you could. At least we got _something_ out of the deal." He +indicated Lappy, who was at that moment fervidly examining the +interior of the viewscreen. + +Trippe nodded, but his eyes were on Navel. + +"By jing," he said suddenly, "your luck holds good, no matter what. I +never saw the beat of it--" + +"Luck?" Travis fumed, "what luck?" + +"Look, Trav, what else could you call it? You fall in a sewer, you +come up with Isaac Newton and a gorgeous doll. It's uncanny, that's +what it is, uncanny." + +Travis lapsed into wordless musing on Navel, planets, people. + +Come to think of it, he thought, it _is_ uncanny. + +At that moment there was a pounding on the lock. Travis quickly shooed +Navel and Lappy into hiding, then cautiously went to the door. He +relaxed. It was Ed Horton. + +"I saw you come back, Trav. Mighty glad. But I knew you'd make it. Old +Pat Travis always comes through. Aint that right, Pat?" + +He tottered in the doorway. Travis caught the sweet scent of strong +brew. He stepped forward to help him but Horton stood up grandly, +waving him away. His mouth creased in an amiable grin. + +"Diomed," he announced proudly, "is a nine planet system." + +After which he fell backwards out of the door. + +Trav ran to the door, stared down into the dark. Horton sat upright at +the foot of the ladder. + +"Sall right ole buddy. Dint mean to stay. Only thought you'd like to +know natural sci-yen-tiffy fack. Diomed is nine plan' system." + +He rose on wobbly but cheerful legs. + +"No favoritism there, hey? Science. I just tell you a fack, you take +it from there. No favoritism tall." + +He lurched away mumbling cheerily, his obligation fulfilled. + +Travis stared after him, wheels turning in his brain. Fack? A nine +planet system. It jelled slowly, then broke. + +Nine planets. + +The key. + +He turned slowly on Trippe, his eyes swivelling like twin dark cannon. + +"What's he say?" Trippe said, half-smiling. "Boy, he was sure--" + +"Did you know this was a nine planet system?" + +"Why ... sure, Trav. But what--" + +"And did you take the trouble to examine their astrology?" + +"Certainly. What the heck--" + +"And you call it luck." Travis sighed, then broke into a radiant grin. +"Why there's your bloomin' answer, you sad silly dreamin'--there's +your bloomin' answer!" He sailed over to a drawer, grabbed a batch of +fresh contracts, then flashed toward the door. + +"Hold the fort," he bawled over his shoulder, "break out a big bottle +and small glasses! We got a contract, lad, we got a contract!" + +He vanished triumphantly into the night. + + * * * * * + +Old 29 was homing. Travis felt the great soft peace of deep space +close over him. All was right with the world. A clean and sparkling +Navel, well-bathed now and almost frighteningly beautiful, sat +worshipfully at his feet dressed in a pair of Dahlinger's pajamas. +Both Trippe and Dahlinger were regarding him with wonder and delight, +and as he sat gazing down at them fondly he recalled with pleasure the +outraged faces of the men from Unico, that robber outfit. + +"Pat Travis," he chuckled, patting the fat contract in his pocket, +"the luckless Pat Travis rides again." He turned an eye on the staring +Trippe. + +"My boy," he said paternally, "speaks me no speaks about luck, from +this day forth. All the material was in your hands, there was no luck +involved. All you had to do was use it." + +"But Trav, I still don't get it. I've been thinkin' all night, all the +while you were gone...." + +"The planet Pluto," Travis said evenly, "was discovered by Earthmen, +finally, in the year 1930. At that time we were approximately 300 +years ahead, technologically, of the people of Mert. A similar case +exists for Neptune, which was not discovered, although adequate +telescopes had long been in use, until 1846." He paused and gazed +happily around. "Does the light dawn?" + +"Holy cow!" + +"Exactly. Diomed is a nine planet system. For which 'fack' thank old +Ed Horton, who returned a favor done many years ago. Luck? Only if +doing favors for people is lucky. Which I suppose you could make a +case for. But in the astrology of Diomed III--an astrology I took +great pains to understand--how many planets are considered? Let us +examine. Rym, Fors, Lyndal, Bonken, Huck, Weepen, and Sharb. And then +there are also the two 'lights,' that is, the sun and the moon. But +how many _planets_ are there? Counting Mert as one, add them up. It +comes out eight. Not nine. Eight. But Diomed is a nine planet system. +Bless Ed Horton. What happened to the missing planet?" + +Dahlinger w h o o p e d. "They didn't know they had one!" + +Travis grinned. "With surety. They didn't know it existed. If they had +their astrology would certainly have shown it. So it had obviously, +like our own Pluto at a similar time, never been discovered." + +He paused once again while Dahlinger and Trippe regarded him with +delight. + +"And you," Trippe said, "you showed them where it was." + +Travis clucked. "I did not. For one thing, I didn't know where it was. +I simply told him, very regretfully, that there _was_ one, but the +situation being what it was, I couldn't allow him to use our +telescopes to plot its orbit. Unless, you see, there existed a +concrete agreement between us. + +"I added that I had heard that Earthmen would shortly be leaving his +planet. Very unhappily I told him he could not expect to produce a +telescope of the necessary power within at least the next hundred +years. And even then, it would be many more years before they actually +found it. I was very sorry about the whole business, so I just thought +I'd drop by to offer my regrets." + +"And he leaped at the chance." + +"No. You rush to conclusions. He did not leap at the chance. He sat +very quietly thinking about it. It was a gruesome sight. I could +sympathize with him. On the one hand he had us, the unknown, +moon-moving Us, with which he wanted no traffic whatever. But on the +other side there was the knowledge of that planet moving all unwatched +out in the black, casting down its radiations, be they harmful or +good, and no way to know in what sign the thing was, or what house, or +what effect it would have on him, _was having_ on him, even as he sat +there. Oh he struggled, but I knew I had him. He signed the contract. +I think I may say, that it is among the most liberal contracts we have +ever signed." + +There was a long moment of silence in the ship. The young men sat +grinning foolishly. + +"So let me hear no more about luck," said Travis firmly. "In the +future, sons, put your shoulders to the wheel...." + +But the attention of the two was already wandering. They were both +beginning to gaze once more upon the lovely Navel, who was quite shyly +but very womanly gazing back. He saw Trippe look at Dahlinger, +Dahlinger glare at Trippe, their hackles rising. He looked down at +Navel in alarm. + +Born to cause trouble? + +Oh no, he thought abruptly, seeing a whole new world beginning to open +up, oh no, oh no.... + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Conquest Over Time, by Michael Shaara + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONQUEST OVER TIME *** + +***** This file should be named 31652.txt or 31652.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/6/5/31652/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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