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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be838a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50449 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50449) diff --git a/old/50449-h.zip b/old/50449-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ab6a1e6..0000000 --- a/old/50449-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50449-h/50449-h.htm b/old/50449-h/50449-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d7e0d02..0000000 --- a/old/50449-h/50449-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5282 +0,0 @@ -<!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=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of recruit For Andromeda, by Milton Lesser. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Recruit for Andromeda, by Milton Lesser - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Recruit for Andromeda - -Author: Milton Lesser - -Release Date: November 13, 2015 [EBook #50449] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RECRUIT FOR ANDROMEDA *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="365" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - - -<h1><i>Recruit for Andromeda</i></h1> - -<p>by MILTON LESSER</p> - -<p>ACE BOOKS, INC.<br /> -23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y.</p> - -<p>RECRUIT FOR ANDROMEDA</p> - -<p>Copyright 1959, by Ace Books, Inc.</p> - -<p>All Rights Reserved</p> - -<p>Printed in U.S.A.</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence<br /> -that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">TOURNAMENT UNDER NIGHTMARE SKIES</p> - - -<p>When Kit Temple was drafted for the Nowhere Journey, he figured that -he'd left his home, his girl, and the Earth for good. For though those -called were always promised "rotation," not a man had ever returned -from that mysterious flight into the unknown.</p> - -<p>Kit's fellow-draftee Arkalion, the young man with the strange, old-man -eyes, seemed to know more than he should. So when Kit twisted the tail -of fate and followed Arkalion to the ends of space and time, he found -the secret behind "Nowhere" and a personal challenge upon which the -entire future of Earth depended.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">Contents</p> - - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></h2> - - -<p>When the first strong sunlight of May covered the tree-arched avenues -of Center City with green, the riots started.</p> - -<p>The people gathered in angry knots outside the city hall, met in the -park and littered its walks with newspapers and magazines as they -gobbled up editorial comment at a furious rate, slipped with dark of -night through back alleys and planned things with furious futility. -Center City's finest knew when to make themselves scarce: their -uniforms stood for everything objectionable at this time and they might -be subjected to clubs, stones, taunts, threats, leers—and knives.</p> - -<p>But Center City, like most communities in United North America, -had survived the Riots before and would survive them again. On -past performances, the damage could be estimated, too. Two-hundred -fifty-seven plate glass windows would be broken, three-hundred twelve -limbs fractured. Several thousand people would be treated for minor -bruises and abrasions, Center City would receive half that many damage -suits. The list had been drawn clearly and accurately; it hardly ever -deviated.</p> - -<p>And Center City would meet its quota. With a demonstration of -reluctance, of course. The healthy approved way to get over social -trauma once every seven-hundred eighty days.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Shut it off, Kit. Kit, please."</p> - -<p>The telio blared in a cheaply feminine voice, "Oh, it's a long way -to nowhere, forever. And your honey's not coming back, never, never, -never...." A wailing trumpet represented flight.</p> - -<p>"They'll exploit anything, Kit."</p> - -<p>"It's just a song."</p> - -<p>"Turn it off, please."</p> - -<p>Christopher Temple turned off the telio, smiling. "They'll announce the -names in ten minutes," he said, and felt the corners of his mouth draw -taut.</p> - -<p>"Tell me again, Kit," Stephanie pleaded. "How old are you?"</p> - -<p>"You know I'm twenty-six."</p> - -<p>"Twenty-six. Yes, twenty-six, so if they don't call you this time, -you'll be safe. Safe, I can hardly believe it."</p> - -<p>"Nine minutes," said Temple in the darkness. Stephanie had drawn the -blinds earlier, had dialed for sound-proofing. The screaming in the -streets came to them as not the faintest whisper. But the song which -became briefly, masochistically popular every two years and two months -had spoiled their feeling of seclusion.</p> - -<p>"Tell me again, Kit."</p> - -<p>"What."</p> - -<p>"You know what."</p> - -<p>He let her come to him, let her hug him fiercely and whimper against -his chest. He remained passive although it hurt, occasionally stroking -her hair. He could not assert himself for another—he looked at his -strap chrono—for another eight minutes. He might regret it, if he did, -for a lifetime.</p> - -<p>"Tell me, Kit."</p> - -<p>"I'll marry you, Steffy. In eight minutes, less than eight minutes, -I'll go down and get the license. We'll marry as soon as it's legal."</p> - -<p>"This is the last time they have a chance for you. I mean, they won't -change the law?"</p> - -<p>Temple shook his head. "They don't have to. They meet their quota this -way."</p> - -<p>"I'm scared."</p> - -<p>"You and everyone else in North America, Steffy."</p> - -<p>She was trembling against him. "It's cold for June."</p> - -<p>"It's warm in here." He kissed her moist eyes, her nose, her lips.</p> - -<p>"Oh God, Kit. Five minutes."</p> - -<p>"Five minutes to freedom," he said jauntily. He did not feel that way -at all. Apprehension clutched at his chest with tight, painful fingers, -almost making it difficult for him to breathe.</p> - -<p>"Turn it on, Kit."</p> - -<p>He dialed the telio in time to see the announcer's insincere smile. -Smile seventeen, Kit thought wryly. Patriotic sacrifice.</p> - -<p>"Every seven-hundred eighty days," said the announcer, "two-hundred -of Center City's young men are selected to serve their country for an -indeterminate period regulated rigidly by a rotation system."</p> - -<p>"Liar!" Stephanie cried. "No one ever comes back. It's been thirty -years since the first group and not one of them...."</p> - -<p>"Shh," Temple raised a finger to his lips.</p> - -<p>"This is the thirteenth call since the inception of what is popularly -referred to as the Nowhere Journey," said the announcer. "Obviously, -the two hundred young men from Center City and the thousands from all -over this hemisphere do not in reality embark on a Journey to Nowhere. -That is quite meaningless."</p> - -<p>"Hooray for him," Temple laughed.</p> - -<p>"I wish he'd get on with it."</p> - -<p>"No, ladies and gentlemen, we use the word Nowhere merely because we -are not aware of the ultimate destination. Security reasons make it -impossible to...."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," said Stephanie impatiently. "Go on."</p> - -<p>"... therefore, the Nowhere Journey. With a maximum security lid on -the whole project, we don't even know why our men are sent, or by what -means. We know only that they go somewhere and not nowhere, bravely and -not fearfully, for a purpose vital to the security of this nation and -not to slake the thirst of a chessman of regiments and divisions.</p> - -<p>"If Center City's contribution helps keep our country strong, Center -City is naturally obligated...."</p> - -<p>"No one ever said it isn't our duty," Stephanie argued, as if the -announcer could indeed hear her. "We only wish we knew something about -it—and we wish it weren't forever."</p> - -<p>"It isn't forever," Temple reminded her. "Not officially."</p> - -<p>"Officially, my foot. If they never return, they never return. If -there's a rotation system on paper, but it's never used, that's not a -rotation system at all. Kit, it's forever."</p> - -<p>"... to thank the following sponsors for relinquishing their time...."</p> - -<p>"No one would want to sponsor <i>that</i>," Temple whispered cheerfully.</p> - -<p>"Kit," said Stephanie, "I—I suddenly have a hunch we have nothing to -worry about. They missed you all along and they'll miss you this time, -too. The last time, and then you'll be too old. That's funny, too old -at twenty-six. But we'll be free, Kit. Free."</p> - -<p>"He's starting," Temple told her.</p> - -<p>A large drum filled the entire telio screen. It rotated slowly from -bottom to top. In twenty seconds, the letter A appeared, followed by -about a dozen names. Abercrombie, Harold. Abner, Eugene. Adams, Gerald. -Sorrow in the Abercrombie household. Despair for the Abners. Black -horror for Adams.</p> - -<p>The drum rotated.</p> - -<p>"They're up to F, Kit."</p> - -<p>Fabian, Gregory G....</p> - -<p>Names circled the drum slowly, live viscous alphabet soup. Meaningless, -unless you happened to know them.</p> - -<p>"Kit, I knew Thomas Mulvany."</p> - -<p>N, O, P....</p> - -<p>"It's hot in here."</p> - -<p>"I thought you were cold."</p> - -<p>"I'm suffocating now."</p> - -<p>R, S....</p> - -<p>"T!" Stephanie shrieked as the names began to float slowly up from the -bottom of the drum.</p> - -<p>Tabor, Tebbets, Teddley....</p> - -<p>Temple's mouth felt dry as a ball of cotton. Stephanie laughed -nervously. Now—or never. Never?</p> - -<p>Now.</p> - -<p>Stephanie whimpered despairingly.</p> - -<p>TEMPLE, CHRISTOPHER.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Jones."</p> - -<p>"Hardly, Mr. Smith. Hardly. Three minutes late."</p> - -<p>"I've come in response to your ad."</p> - -<p>"I know. You look old."</p> - -<p>"I am over twenty-six. Do you mind?"</p> - -<p>"Not if you don't, Mr. Smith. Let me look at you. Umm, you seem the -right height, the right build."</p> - -<p>"I meet the specifications exactly."</p> - -<p>"Good, Mr. Smith. And your price."</p> - -<p>"No haggling," said Smith. "I have a price which must be met."</p> - -<p>"Your price, Mr. Smith?"</p> - -<p>"Ten million dollars."</p> - -<p>The man called Jones coughed nervously. "That's high."</p> - -<p>"Very. Take it or leave it."</p> - -<p>"In cash?"</p> - -<p>"Definitely. Small unmarked bills."</p> - -<p>"You'd need a moving van!"</p> - -<p>"Then I'll get one."</p> - -<p>"Ten million dollars," said Jones, "is quite a price. Admittedly, I -haven't dealt in this sort of traffic before, but—"</p> - -<p>"But nothing. Were your name Jones, really and truly Jones, I might ask -less."</p> - -<p>"Sir?"</p> - -<p>"You are Jones exactly as much as I am Smith."</p> - -<p>"Sir?" Jones gasped again.</p> - -<p>Smith coughed discreetly. "But I have one advantage. I know you. You -don't know me, Mr. Arkalion."</p> - -<p>"Eh? Eh?"</p> - -<p>"Arkalion. The North American Carpet King. Right?"</p> - -<p>"How did you know?" the man whose name was not Jones but Arkalion asked -the man whose name was not Smith but might as well have been.</p> - -<p>"When I saw your ad," said not-Smith, "I said to myself, 'now here must -be a very rich, influential man.' It only remained for me to study a -series of photographs readily obtainable—I have a fine memory for -that, Mr. Arkalion—and here you are; here is Arkalion the Carpet King."</p> - -<p>"What will you do with the ten million dollars?" demanded Arkalion, -not minding the loss nearly so much as the ultimate disposition of his -fortune.</p> - -<p>"Why, what does anyone do with ten million dollars? Treasure it. Invest -it. Spend it."</p> - -<p>"I mean, what will you do with it if you are going in place of my—" -Arkalion bit his tongue.</p> - -<p>"Your son, were you saying, Mr. Arkalion? Alaric Arkalion the Third. -Did you know that I was able to boil my list of men down to thirty when -I studied their family ties?"</p> - -<p>"Brilliant, Mr. Smith. Alaric is so young—"</p> - -<p>"Aren't they all? Twenty-one to twenty-six. Who was it who once said -something about the flower of our young manhood?"</p> - -<p>"Shakespeare?" said Mr. Arkalion realizing that most quotes of lasting -importance came from the bard.</p> - -<p>"Sophocles," said Smith. "But no matter. I will take young Alaric's -place for ten million dollars."</p> - -<p>Motives always troubled Mr. Arkalion, and thus he pursued what might -have been a dangerous conversation. "You'll never get a chance to spend -it on the Nowhere Journey."</p> - -<p>"Let me worry about that."</p> - -<p>"No one ever returns."</p> - -<p>"My worry, not yours."</p> - -<p>"It is forever—as if you dropped out of existence. Alaric is so young."</p> - -<p>"I have always gambled, Mr. Arkalion. If I do not return in five -years, you are to put the money in a trust fund for certain designated -individuals, said fund to be terminated the moment I return. If I come -back within the five years, you are merely to give the money over to -me. Is that clear?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I'll want it in writing, of course."</p> - -<p>"Of course. A plastic surgeon is due here in about ten minutes, Mr. -Smith, and we can get on with.... But if I don't know your name, how -can I put it in writing?"</p> - -<p>Smith smiled. "I changed my name to Smith for the occasion. Perfectly -legal. My name is John X. Smith—now!"</p> - -<p>"That's where you're wrong," said Mr. Arkalion as the plastic surgeon -entered. "Your name is Alaric Arkalion III—<i>now</i>."</p> - -<p>The plastic surgeon skittered around Smith, examining him minutely with -the casual expertness that comes with experience.</p> - -<p>"Have to shorten the cheek bones."</p> - -<p>"For ten million dollars," said Smith, "you can take the damned things -out altogether and hang them on your wall."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sophia Androvna Petrovitch made her way downtown through the bustle of -tired workers and the occasional sprinkling of Comrades. She crushed -her <i>ersatz</i> cigarette underfoot at number 616 Stalin Avenue, paused -for the space of five heartbeats at the door, went inside.</p> - -<p>"What do you want?" The man at the desk was myopic but bull-necked.</p> - -<p>Sophia showed her party card.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Comrade. Still, you are a woman."</p> - -<p>"You're terribly observant, Comrade," said Sophia coldly. "I am here to -volunteer."</p> - -<p>"But a woman."</p> - -<p>"There is nothing in the law which says a woman cannot volunteer."</p> - -<p>"We don't make women volunteer."</p> - -<p>"I mean really volunteer, of her own free will."</p> - -<p>"Her—own—free will?" The bull-necked man removed his spectacles, -scratched his balding head with the ear-pieces. "You mean volunteer -without—"</p> - -<p>"Without coercion. I want to volunteer. I am here to volunteer. I want -to sign on for the next Stalintrek."</p> - -<p>"Stalintrek, a woman?"</p> - -<p>"That is what I said."</p> - -<p>"We don't force women to volunteer." The man scratched some more.</p> - -<p>"Oh, really," said Sophia. "This is 1992, not mid-century, Comrade. Did -not Stalin say, 'Woman was created to share the glorious destiny of -Mother Russia with her mate?'" Sophia created the quote randomly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, if Stalin said—"</p> - -<p>"He did."</p> - -<p>"Still, I do not recall—"</p> - -<p>"What?" Sophia cried. "Stalin dead these thirty-nine years and you -don't recall his speeches? What is your name, Comrade?"</p> - -<p>"Please, Comrade. Now that you remind me, I remember."</p> - -<p>"What is your name."</p> - -<p>"Here, I will give you the volunteer papers to sign. If you pass the -exams, you will embark on the next Stalintrek, though why a beautiful -young woman like you—"</p> - -<p>"Shut your mouth and hand me those papers."</p> - -<p>There, sitting behind that desk, was precisely why. Why should she, -Sophia Androvna Petrovitch, wish to volunteer for the Stalintrek? -Better to ask why a bird flies south in the winter, one day ahead of -the first icy gale. Or why a lemming plunges recklessly into the sea -with his multitudes of fellows, if, indeed, the venture were to turn -out grimly.</p> - -<p>But there, behind that desk, was part of the reason. The Comrade. The -bright sharp Comrade, with his depth of reasoning, his fountain of -gushing emotions, his worldliness. <i>Pfooey!</i></p> - -<p>It was as if she had been in a cocoon all her life, stifled, starved, -the cottony inner lining choking her whenever she opened her mouth, -the leathery outer covering restricting her when she tried to move. -No one had ever returned from the Stalintrek. She then had to assume -no one would. Including Sophia Androvna Petrovitch. But then, there -was nothing she would miss, nothing to which she particularly wanted -to return. Not the stark, foul streets of Stalingrad, not the workers -with their vapid faces or the Comrades with their cautious, sweating, -trembling, fearful non-decisions, not the higher echelon of Comrades, -more frightened but showing it less, who would love the beauty of -her breasts and loins but not herself for you never love anything -but the Stalinimage and Mother Russia herself, not those terrified -martinet-marionettes who would love the parts of her if she permitted -but not her or any other person for that matter.</p> - -<p>Wrong with the Stalintrek was its name alone, a name one associated -with everything else in Russia for an obvious, post-Stalin reason. But -everything else about the Stalintrek shrieked mystery and adventure. -Where did you go? How did you get there? What did you do? Why?</p> - -<p>A million questions which had kept her awake at night and, if -she thought about them hard enough, satisfied her deep longing -for something different. And then one day when stolid Mrs. -Ivanovna-Rasnikov had said, "It is a joke, a terrible, terrible joke -they are taking my husband Fyodor on the Stalintrek when he lacks -sufficient imagination to go from here to Leningrad or even Tula. Can -you picture Fyodor on the Stalintrek? Better they should have taken me. -Better they should have taken his wife." That day Sophia could hardly -contain herself.</p> - -<p>As a party member she had access to the law and she read it three times -from start to finish (in her dingy flat by the light of a smoking, -foul-smelling, soft-wax candle) but could find nothing barring women -from the Stalintrek.</p> - -<p>Had Fyodor Rasnikov volunteered? Naturally. Everyone volunteered, -although when your name was called you had no choice. There had been -no draft in Russia since the days of the Second War of the People's -Liberation. Volunteer? What, precisely, did the word mean?</p> - -<p>She, Sophia Androvna Petrovitch would volunteer, without being told. -Thus it was she found herself at 616 Stalin Avenue, and thus the -balding, myopic, bull-necked Comrade thrust the papers across his desk -at her.</p> - -<p>She signed her name with such vehemence and ferocity that she almost -tore through the paper.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h2> - - -<p><i>Three-score men sit in the crowded, smoke-filled room. Some drink -beer, some squat in moody silence, some talk in an animated fashion -about nothing very urgent. At the one small door, two guards pace back -and forth slowly, creating a gentle swaying of smoke-patterns in the -hazy room. The guards, in simple military uniform, carry small, deadly -looking weapons.</i></p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Fight City Hall? Are you kidding? They took you, bud. Don't -try to fight it, I know. I know.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: I'm telling you, there was a mistake in the records. -I'm over twenty-six. Two weeks and two days. Already I wrote to my -Congressman. Hell, that's why I voted for him, he better go to bat for -me.</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: You think that's something? I wouldn't be here only those -doctors are crazy. I mean, crazy. Me, with a cyst big as a golf ball on -the base of my spine.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: You too. Don't try to fight it.</p> - -<p>FOURTH MAN: (Newly named Alaric Arkalion III) I look forward to this -as a stimulating adventure. Does the fact that they select men for the -Nowhere Journey once every seven hundred and eighty days strike anyone -as significant?</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: I got my own problems.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: This is not a thalamic problem, young man. Not -thalamic at all.</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: Young man? Who are you kidding?</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: (Who realizes, thanks to the plastic surgeon, he is -the youngest looking of all, with red cheeks and peachfuzz whiskers) It -is a problem of the intellect. Why seven hundred and eighty days?</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: I read the magazine, too, chief. You think we're all going -to the planet Mars. How original.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I think.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: Mars?</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: (Laughing) It's a long way from Mars to City Hall, doc.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: You mean, through space to Mars?</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: Exactly, exactly. Quite a coincidence, otherwise.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: You're telling me.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: (Coldly) Would you care to explain it?</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Why, sure. You see, Mars is—uh, I don't want to steal your -thunder, chief. Go ahead.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: Once every seven hundred and eighty days Mars and the -Earth find themselves in the same orbital position with respect to the -sun. In other words, Mars and Earth are closest then. Were there such a -thing as space travel, new, costly, not thoroughly tested, they would -want to make each journey as brief as possible. Hence the seven hundred -and eighty days.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Not bad, chief. You got most of it.</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: No one ever said anything about space travel.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: You think we'd broadcast it or something, stupid? It's part -of a big, important scientific experiment, only we're the hamsters.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: Ridiculous. You're forgetting all about the Cold War.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: He thinks we're fighting a war with the Martians. (Laughs) -Orson Wells stuff, huh?</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: With the Russians. The Russians. We developed A bombs. -They developed A bombs. We came up with the H bomb. So did they. We -placed a station up in space, a fifth of the way to the moon. So did -they. Then—nothing more about scientific developments. For over twenty -years. I ask you, doesn't it seem peculiar?</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Peculiar, he says.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: Peculiar.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: I wish my Congressman....</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: You and your Congressman. The way you talk, it was your vote -got him in office.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: If only I could get out and talk to him.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: No one is permitted to leave.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Punishable by a prison term, the law says.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: Oh yeah? Prison, shmision. Or else go on the Nowhere -Journey. Well, I don't see the difference.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: So, go ahead. Try to escape.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: (Looking at the guards) They got them all over. All over. I -think our mail is censored.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: It is.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: They better watch out. I'm losing my temper. I get violent -when I lose my temper.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: See? See how the guards are trembling.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: Very funny. Maybe you didn't have a good job or something? -Maybe you don't care. I care. I had a job with a future. Didn't pay -much, but a real blue chip future. So they send me to Nowhere.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: You're not there yet.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: Yeah, but I'm going.</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: If only they let you know when. My back is killing me. I'm -waiting to pull a sick act. Just waiting, that's all.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Go ahead and wait, a lot of good it will do you.</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: You mind your own business.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: I am, doc. You brought the whole thing up.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: He's looking for trouble.</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: He'll get it.</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: We're going to be together a long time. A long time. -Why don't you all relax?</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: You mind your own business.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Nuts, aren't they. They're nuts. A sick act, yet.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: Look how it doesn't bother him. A failure, he was. I can -just see it. What does he care if he goes away forever and doesn't come -back? One bread line is as good as another.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Ha-ha.</p> - -<p>SECOND MAN: Yeah, well I mean it. Forever. We're going away, -someplace—forever. We're not coming back, ever. No one comes back. -It's for good, for keeps.</p> - -<p>FIRST MAN: Tell it to your congressman. Or maybe you want to pull a -sick act, too?</p> - -<p>THIRD MAN: (Hits First Man, who, surprised, crashes back against a -table and falls down) It isn't an act, damn you!</p> - -<p>GUARD: All right, break it up. Come on, break it up....</p> - -<p>ALARIC ARKALION: (To himself) I wish I saw that ten million dollars -already—<i>if</i> I ever get to see it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They drove for hours through the fresh country air, feeling the wind -against their faces, listening to the roar their ground-jet made, all -alone on the rimrock highway.</p> - -<p>"Where are we going, Kit?"</p> - -<p>"Search me. Just driving."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad they let you come out this once. I don't know what they would -have done to me if they didn't. I had to see you this once. I—"</p> - -<p>Temple smiled. He had absented himself without leave. It had been -difficult enough and he might yet be in a lot of hot water, but it -would be senseless to worry Stephanie. "It's just for a few hours," he -said.</p> - -<p>"Hours. When we want a whole lifetime. Kit. Oh, Kit—why don't we run -away? Just the two of us, someplace where they'll never find you. I -could be packed and ready and—"</p> - -<p>"Don't talk like that. We can't."</p> - -<p>"You want to go where they're sending you. You want to go."</p> - -<p>"For God's sake, how can you talk like that? I don't want to go -anyplace, except with you. But we can't run away, Steffy. I've got to -face it, whatever it is."</p> - -<p>"No you don't. It's noble to be patriotic, sure. It always was. But -this is different, Kit. They don't ask for part of your life. Not for -two years, or three, or a gamble because maybe you won't ever come -back. They ask for all of you, for the rest of your life, forever, and -they don't even tell you why. Kit, don't go! We'll hide someplace and -get married and—"</p> - -<p>"And nothing." Temple stopped the ground-jet, climbed out, opened the -door for Stephanie. "Don't you see? There's no place to hide. Wherever -you go, they'd look. You wouldn't want to spend the rest of your life -running, Steffy. Not with me or anyone else."</p> - -<p>"I would. I would!"</p> - -<p>"Know what would happen after a few years? We'd hate each other. You'd -look at me and say 'I wouldn't be hiding like this, except for you. I'm -young and—'"</p> - -<p>"Kit, that's cruel! I would not."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you would. Steffy, I—" A lump rose in his throat. He'd tell her -goodbye, permanently. He had to do it that way, did not want her to -wait endlessly and hopelessly for a return that would not materialize. -"I didn't get permission to leave, Steffy." He hadn't meant to tell her -that, but suddenly it seemed an easy way to break into goodbye.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean? No—you didn't...."</p> - -<p>"I had to see you. What can they do, send me for longer than forever?"</p> - -<p>"Then you do want to run away with me!"</p> - -<p>"Steffy, no. When I leave you tonight, Steffy, it's for good. That's -it. The last of Kit Temple. Stop thinking about me. I don't exist. -I—never was." It sounded ridiculous, even to him.</p> - -<p>"Kit, I love you. I love you. How can I forget you?"</p> - -<p>"It's happened before. It will happen again." That hurt, too. He was -talking about a couple of statistics, not about himself and Stephanie.</p> - -<p>"We're different, Kit. I'll love you forever. And—Kit ... I know -you'll come back to me. I'll wait, Kit. We're different. You'll come -back."</p> - -<p>"How many people do you think said <i>that</i> before?"</p> - -<p>"You don't want to come back, even if you could. You're not thinking of -us at all. You're thinking of your brother."</p> - -<p>"You know that isn't true. Sometimes I wonder about Jase, sure. But if -I thought there was a chance to return—I'm a selfish cuss, Steffy. If -I thought there was a chance, you know I'd want you all for myself. I'd -brand you, and that's the truth."</p> - -<p>"You do love me!"</p> - -<p>"I loved you, Steffy. Kit Temple loved you."</p> - -<p>"Loved?"</p> - -<p>"Loved. Past tense. When I leave tonight, it's as if I don't exist -anymore. As if I never existed. It's got to be that way, Steffy. In -thirty years, no one ever returned."</p> - -<p>"Including your brother, Jase. So now you want to find him. What do I -count for? What...."</p> - -<p>"This going wasn't my idea. I wanted to stay with you. I wanted to -marry you. I can't now. None of it. Forget me, Steffy. Forget you ever -knew me. Jase said that to our folks before he was taken." Almost five -years before Jason Temple had been selected for the Nowhere Journey. -He'd been young, though older than his brother Kit. Young, unattached, -almost cheerful he was. Naturally, they never saw him again.</p> - -<p>"Hold me, Kit. I'm sorry ... carrying on like this."</p> - -<p>They had walked some distance from the ground-jet, through scrub -oak and bramble bushes. They found a clearing, fragrant-scented, -soft-floored still from last autumn, melodic with the chirping of -nameless birds. They sat, not talking. Stephanie wore a gay summer -dress, full-skirted, cut deep beneath the throat. She swayed toward him -from the waist, nestled her head on his shoulder. He could smell the -soft, sweet fragrance of her hair, of the skin at the nape of her neck. -"If you want to say goodbye ..." she said.</p> - -<p>"Stop it," he told her.</p> - -<p>"If you want to say goodbye...."</p> - -<p>Her head rolled against his chest. She turned, cradled herself in his -arms, smiled up at him, squirmed some more and had her head pillowed on -his lap. She smiled tremulously, misty-eyed. Her lips parted.</p> - -<p>He bent and kissed her, knowing it was all wrong. This was not goodbye, -not the way he wanted it. Quickly, definitely, for once and all. With -a tear, perhaps, a lot of tears. But permanent goodbye. This was all -wrong. The whole idea was to be business-like, objective. It had to -be done that way, or no way at all. Briefly, he regretted leaving the -encampment.</p> - - -<p>This wasn't goodbye the way he wanted it. The way it had to be. This -was <i>auf weidersen</i>.</p> - -<p>And then he forgot everything but Stephanie....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I am Alaric Arkalion III," said the extremely young-looking man with -the old, wise eyes.</p> - -<p>How incongruous, Temple thought. The eyes look almost middle-aged. The -rest of him—a boy.</p> - -<p>"Something tells me we'll be seeing a lot of each other," Arkalion -went on. The voice was that of an older man, too, belying the youthful -complexion, the almost childish features, the soft fuzz of a beard.</p> - -<p>"I'm Kit Temple," said Temple, extending his hand. "Arkalion, a strange -name. I know it from somewhere.... Say! Aren't you—don't you have -something to do with carpets or something?"</p> - -<p>"Here and now, no. I am a number. A-92-6417. But my father is—perhaps -I had better say was—my father is Alaric Arkalion II. Yes, that is -right, the carpet king."</p> - -<p>"I'll be darned," said Temple.</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"Well," Temple laughed. "I never met a billionaire before."</p> - -<p>"Here I am not a billionaire, nor will I ever be one again. A-92-6417, -a number. On his way to Mars with a bunch of other numbers."</p> - -<p>"Mars? You sound sure of yourself."</p> - -<p>"Reasonably. Ah, it is a pleasure to talk with a gentleman. I am -reasonably certain it will be Mars."</p> - -<p>Temple nodded in agreement. "That's what the Sunday supplements say, -all right."</p> - -<p>"And doubtless you have observed no one denies it."</p> - -<p>"But what on Earth do we want on Mars?"</p> - -<p>"That in itself is a contradiction," laughed Arkalion. "We'll find out, -though, Temple."</p> - -<p>They had reached the head of the line, found themselves entering a -huge, double-decker jet-transport. They found two seats together, -followed the instructions printed at the head of the aisle by strapping -themselves in and not smoking. Talking all around them was subdued.</p> - -<p>"Contrariness has given way to fear," Arkalion observed. "You should -have seen them the last few days, waiting around the induction center, -a two-ton chip on each shoulder. Say, where <i>were</i> you?"</p> - -<p>"I—what do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't see you until last evening. Suddenly, you were here."</p> - -<p>"Did anyone else miss me?"</p> - -<p>"But I remember you the first day."</p> - -<p>"Did anyone else miss me? Any of the officials?"</p> - -<p>"No. Not that I know of."</p> - -<p>"Then I was here," Temple said, very seriously.</p> - -<p>Arkalion smiled. "By George, of course. Then you were here. Temple, -we'll get along fine."</p> - -<p>Temple said that was swell.</p> - -<p>"Anyway, we'd better. Forever is a long time."</p> - -<p>Three minutes later, the jet took off and soared on eager wings toward -the setting sun.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Men, since we are leaving here in a few hours and since there is no -way to get out of the encampment and no place to go over the desert -even if you could," the microphone in the great, empty hall boomed as -the two files of men marched in, "there is no harm in telling you where -you are. From this point, in a limited sense, you shall be kept abreast -of your progress.</p> - -<p>"We are in White Sands, New Mexico."</p> - -<p>"The Garden Spot of the Universe!" someone shouted derisively, -remembering the bleak hot desert and jagged mountain peaks as they came -down.</p> - -<p>"White Sands," muttered Arkalion. "It looks like space travel now, -doesn't it, Kit."</p> - -<p>Temple shrugged. "Why?"</p> - -<p>"White Sands was the center of experiments in rocketry decades ago, -when people still talked about those things. Then, for a long time, no -one heard anything about White Sands. The rockets grew here, Kit."</p> - -<p>"I can readily see why. You could look all your life without finding a -barren spot like this."</p> - -<p>"Precisely. Someone once called this place—or was it some other place -like it?—someone once called it a good place to throw old razor -blades. If people still used razor blades."</p> - -<p>The microphone blared again, after the several hundred men had entered -the great hall and milled about among the echoes. Temple could picture -other halls like this, other briefings. "Men, whenever you are given -instructions, in here or elsewhere, obey them instantly. Our job is a -big one, complicated and exacting. Attention to detail will save us -trouble."</p> - -<p>Someone said, "My old man served a hitch in the army, back in the -sixties. That's what he always said, attention to details. The army is -crazy about things like that. Are we in the army or something?"</p> - -<p>"This is not the army, but the function is similar," barked the -microphone. "Do as you are told and you will get along."</p> - -<p>Stirrings in the crowd. Mutterings. Temple gaped. Microphone, yes—but -receivers also, placed strategically, all around the hall, to pick up -sound. Telio receivers too, perhaps? It made him feel something like a -goldfish.</p> - -<p>Apparently someone liked the idea of the two-way microphones. "I got a -question. When are we coming back?"</p> - -<p>Laughter. Hooting. Catcalls.</p> - -<p>Blared the microphone: "There is a rotation system in operation, men. -When it is feasible, men will be rotated."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, in thirty years it ain't been whatsiz—feasible—once!"</p> - -<p>"That, unfortunately, is correct. When the situation permits, we will -rotate you home."</p> - -<p>"From where? Where are we going?"</p> - -<p>"At least tell us that."</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"How about that?"</p> - -<p>There was a pause, then the microphone barked: "I don't know the answer -to that question. You won't believe me, but it is the truth. No one -knows where you are going. No one. Except the people who are already -there."</p> - -<p>More catcalls.</p> - -<p>"That doesn't make sense," Arkalion whispered. "If it's space travel, -the pilots would know, wouldn't they?"</p> - -<p>"Automatic?" Temple suggested.</p> - -<p>"I doubt it. Space travel must still be new, even if it has thirty -years under its belt. If that man speaks the truth—if no one knows ... -just where in the universe <i>are</i> we going?"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h2> - - -<p>"Hey, looka me. I'm flying!"</p> - -<p>"Will you get your big fat feet out of my face?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. Show me how to swim away through air, I'll be glad to."</p> - -<p>"Leggo that spoon!"</p> - -<p>"I ain't got your spoon."</p> - -<p>"Will you look at it float away. Hey spoon, hey!"</p> - -<p>"Watch this, Charlie. This will get you. I mean, get you."</p> - -<p>"What are you gonna do?"</p> - -<p>"Relax, chum."</p> - -<p>"Leggo my leg. Help! I'm up in the air. Stop that."</p> - -<p>"I said relax. There. Ha-ha, lookit him spin, just like a top. All you -got to do is get him started and he spins like a top with arms and -legs. Top of the morning to you, Charlie. Ha-ha. I said, top of the...."</p> - -<p>"Someone stop me, I'm getting dizzy."</p> - -<p>They floated, tumbled, spun around the spaceship's lounge room in -simple, childish glee. They cavorted in festive weightlessness.</p> - -<p>"They're happy now," Arkalion observed. "The novelty of free fall, of -weighing exactly nothing, strikes them as amusing."</p> - -<p>"I think I'm getting the hang of it," said Temple. Clumsily, he made a -few tentative swimming motions in the air, propelling himself forward -a few yards before he lost his balance and tumbled head over heels -against the wall.</p> - -<p>Arkalion came to him quickly, in a combination of swimming and pushing -with hands and feet against the wall. Arkalion righted him expertly, -sat down gingerly beside him. "If you keep sudden motions to a minimum, -you'll get along fine. More than anything else, that's the secret of -it."</p> - -<p>Temple nodded. "It's sort of like the first time you're on ice skates. -Say, how come you're so good at it?"</p> - -<p>"I used to read the old, theoretical books on space-travel." The words -poured out effortlessly, smoothly. "I'm merely applying the theories -put forward as early as the 1950's."</p> - -<p>"Oh." But it left Temple with some food for thought. Alaric Arkalion -was a queer duck, anyway, and of all the men gathered in the -spaceship's lounge, he alone had mastered weightlessness with hardly -any trouble.</p> - -<p>"Take your ice skates," Arkalion went on. "Some people put them on and -use them like natural extensions of their feet the first time. Others -fall all over themselves. I suppose I am lucky."</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Temple. Actually, the only thing odd about Arkalion was -his old-young face and—perhaps—his propensity for coming up with -the right answers at the right times. Arkalion had seemed so certain -of space-travel. He'd hardly batted an eyelash when they boarded a -long, tapering bullet-shaped ship at White Sands and thundered off -into the sky. He took for granted the change-over to a huge round ship -at the wheel-shaped station in space. Moments after leaving the space -station—with a minimum of stress and strain, thanks to the almost-nil -gravity—it was Arkalion who first swam through air to the viewport -and pointed out the huge crescent earth, green and gray and brown, -sparkling with patches of dazzling silver-white. "You will observe it -is a crescent," Arkalion had said. "It is closer to the sun than we -are, and off at an angle. As I suspected, our destination is Mars."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then everyone was saying goodbye to earth. Fantastic, it seemed. There -were tears, there was laughter, cursing, promises of return, awkward -verbal comparisons with the crescent moon, vows of faithfulness to -lovers and sweethearts. And there was Arkalion, with an avid expression -in the old eyes, Arkalion with his boyish face, not saying goodbye so -much as he was calling hello to something Temple could not fathom.</p> - -<p>Now, as he struggled awkwardly with weightlessness, Temple called -it his imagination. His thought-patterns shifted vaguely, without -motivation, from the gleaming, polished interior of the ship with its -smell of antiseptic and metal polish to the clear Spring air of Earth, -blue of sky and bright of sun. The unique blue sky of Earth which he -somehow knew could not be duplicated elsewhere. Elsewhere—the word -itself bordered on the meaningless.</p> - -<p>And Stephanie. The brief warm ecstasy of her—once, forever. He -wondered with surprising objectivity if a hundred other names, a -hundred other women were not in a hundred other minds while everyone -stared at the crescent Earth hanging serenely in space—with each name -and each woman as dear as Stephanie, with the same combination of fire -and gentle femininity stirring the blood but saddening the heart. -Would Stephanie really forget him? Did he want her to? That part of -him burned by the fire of her said no—no, she must not forget him. -She was his, his alone, roped and branded though a universe separated -them. But someplace in his heart was the thought, the understanding, -the realization that although Stephanie might keep a small place for -him tucked someplace deep in her emotions, she must forget. He was -gone—permanently. For Stephanie, he was dead. It was as he had told -her that last stolen day. It was ... <i>Stephanie, Stephanie, how much I -love you</i>....</p> - -<p>Struggling with weightlessness, he made his way back to the small room -he shared with Arkalion. Hardly more than a cubicle, it was, with -sufficient room for two beds, a sink, a small chest. He lay down and -slept, murmuring Stephanie's name in his sleep.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He awoke to the faint hum of the air-pumps, got up feeling rested, -forgot his weightlessness and floated to the ceiling where only an -outthrust arm prevented a nasty bump on his head. He used hand grips on -the wall to let himself down. He washed, aware of no way to prevent the -water he splashed on his face from forming fine droplets and spraying -the entire room. When he crossed back to the foot of his bed to get his -towel he thrust one foot out too rapidly, lost his balance, half-rose, -stumbled and fell against the other bed which, like all other items of -furniture, was fastened to the floor. But his elbow struck sleeping -Arkalion's jaw sharply, hard enough to jar the man's teeth.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry," said Temple. "Didn't mean to do that," he apologized -again, feeling embarrassed.</p> - -<p>Arkalion merely lay there.</p> - -<p>"I said I'm sorry."</p> - -<p>Arkalion still slept. It seemed inconceivable, for Temple's elbow -pained him considerably. He bent down, examined his inert companion.</p> - -<p>Arkalion stirred not a muscle.</p> - -<p>Vaguely alarmed, Temple thrust a hand to Arkalion's chest, felt -nothing. He crouched, rested the side of his head over Arkalion's -heart. He listened, heard—nothing.</p> - -<p>What was going on here?</p> - -<p>"Hey, Arkalion!" Temple shook him, gently at first, then with savage -force. Weightless, Arkalion's body floated up off the bed, taking the -covers with it. His own heart pounding furiously, Temple got it down -again, fingered the left wrist and swallowed nervously.</p> - -<p>Temple had never seen a dead man before. Arkalion's heart did not beat. -Arkalion had no pulse.</p> - -<p>Arkalion was dead.</p> - -<p>Yelling hoarsely, Temple plunged from the room, soaring off the floor -in his haste and striking his head against the ceiling hard enough to -make him see stars. "This guy is dead!" he cried. "Arkalion is dead."</p> - -<p>Men stirred in the companionway. Someone called for one of the armed -guards who were constantly on patrol.</p> - -<p>"If he's dead, you're yelling loud enough to get him out of his grave." -The voice was quiet, amused.</p> - -<p>Arkalion.</p> - -<p>"What?" Temple blurted, whirling around and striking his head again. A -little wild-eyed, he re-entered the room.</p> - -<p>"Now, who is dead, Kit?" demanded Arkalion, sitting up and stretching -comfortably.</p> - -<p>"Who—is dead? Who—?" Open-mouthed, Temple stared.</p> - -<p>A guard, completely at home with weightlessness, entered the cubicle -briskly. "What's the trouble in here? Something about a dead man, they -said."</p> - -<p>"A dead man?" demanded Arkalion. "Indeed."</p> - -<p>"Dead?" muttered Temple, lamely and foolishly. "Dead...."</p> - -<p>Arkalion smiled deprecatingly. "My friend must have been talking in -his sleep. The only thing dead in here is my appetite. Weightlessness -doesn't let you become very hungry."</p> - -<p>"You'll grow used to it," the guard promised. He patted his paunch -happily. "I am. Well, don't raise the alarm unless there's some -trouble. Remember about the boy who cried wolf."</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Temple. "Sure. Sorry."</p> - -<p>He watched the guard depart.</p> - -<p>"Bad dream?" Arkalion wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"Bad dream, my foot. I accidentally hit you. Hard enough to hurt. You -didn't move."</p> - -<p>"I'm a sound sleeper."</p> - -<p>"I felt for your heart. It wasn't beating. It wasn't!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, come, come."</p> - -<p>"Your heart was not beating, I said."</p> - -<p>"And I suppose I was cold as a slab of ice?"</p> - -<p>"Umm, no. I don't remember. Maybe you were. You had no pulse, either."</p> - -<p>Arkalion laughed easily. "And am I still dead?"</p> - -<p>"Well—"</p> - -<p>"Clearly a case of overwrought nerves and a highly keyed imagination. -What you need is some more sleep."</p> - -<p>"I'm not sleepy, thanks."</p> - -<p>"Well, I think I'll get up and go down for breakfast." Arkalion climbed -out of bed gingerly, made his way to the sink and was soon gargling -with a bottle of prepared mouthwash, occasionally spraying weightless -droplets of the pink liquid up at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>Temple lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, made his way to Arkalion's -bed while the man hummed tunelessly at the sink. Temple let his hands -fall on the sheet. It was not cold, but comfortably cool. Hardly as -warm as it should have been, with a man sleeping on it all night.</p> - -<p>Was he still imagining things?</p> - -<p>"I'm glad you didn't call for a burial detail and have me expelled into -space with yesterday's garbage," Arkalion called over his shoulder -jauntily as he went outside for some breakfast.</p> - -<p>Temple cursed softly and lit another cigarette, dropping the first one -into a disposal chute on the wall.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Every night thereafter, Temple made it a point to remain awake after -Arkalion apparently had fallen asleep. But if he were seeking -repetition of the peculiar occurrence, he was disappointed. Not only -did Arkalion sleep soundly and through the night, but he snored. Loudly -and clearly, a wheezing snore.</p> - -<p>Arkalion's strange feat—or his own overwrought imagination, Temple -thought wryly—was good for one thing: it took his mind off Stephanie. -The days wore on in endless, monotonous routine. He took some books -from the ship's library and browsed through them, even managing to find -one concerned with traumatic catalepsy, which stated that a severe -emotional shock might render one into a deep enough trance to have a -layman mistakenly pronounce him dead. But what had been the severe -emotional disturbance for Arkalion? Could the effects of weightlessness -manifest themselves in that way in rare instances? Temple naturally did -not know, but he resolved to find out if he could after reaching their -destination.</p> - -<p>One day—it was three weeks after they left the space station, Temple -realized—they were all called to assembly in the ship's large main -lounge. As the men drifted in, Temple was amazed to see the progress -they had made with weightlessness. He himself had advanced to handy -facility in locomotion, but it struck him all the more pointedly when -he saw two hundred men swim and float through air, pushing themselves -along by means of the hand-holds strategically placed along the walls.</p> - -<p>The ever-present microphone greeted them all. "Good afternoon, men."</p> - -<p>"Good afternoon, mac!"</p> - -<p>"Hey, is this the way to Ebbetts' Field?"</p> - -<p>"Get on with it!"</p> - -<p>"Sounds like the same man who addressed us in White Sands," Temple told -Arkalion. "He sure does get around."</p> - -<p>"A recording, probably. Listen."</p> - -<p>"Our destination, as you've probably read in newspapers and magazines, -is the planet Mars."</p> - -<p>Mutterings in the assembly, not many of surprise.</p> - -<p>"Their suppositions, based both on the seven hundred eighty day lapse -between Nowhere Journeys and the romantic position in which the planet -Mars has always been held, are correct. We are going to Mars.</p> - -<p>"For most of you, Mars will be a permanent home for many years to -come—"</p> - -<p>"Most of us?" Temple wondered out loud.</p> - -<p>Arkalion raised a finger to his lips for silence.</p> - -<p>"—until such time as you are rotated according to the policy of -rotation set up by the government."</p> - -<p>Temple had grown accustomed to the familiar hoots and catcalls. He -almost had an urge to join in himself.</p> - -<p>"Interesting," Arkalion pointed out. "Back at White Sands they claimed -not to know our destination. They knew it all right—up to a point. The -planet Mars. But now they say that all of us will not remain on Mars. -Most interesting."</p> - -<p>"—further indoctrination in our mission soon after our arrival on the -red planet. Landing will be performed under somewhat less strain than -the initial takeoff in the Earth-to-station ferry, since Mars exerts -less of a gravity pull than Earth. On the other hand, you have been -weightless for three weeks and the change-over is liable to make some -of you sick. It will pass harmlessly enough.</p> - -<p>"We realize it is difficult, being taken from your homes without -knowing the nature of your urgent mission. All I can tell you now—and, -as a matter of fact, all I know—"</p> - -<p>"Here we go again," said Temple. "More riddles."</p> - -<p>"—is that everything <i>is</i> of the utmost urgency. Our entire way of -life is at stake. Our job will be to safeguard it. In the months which -follow, few of you will have any big, significant role to play, but all -of you, working together, will provide the strength we need. When the -<i>cadre</i>—"</p> - -<p>"So they call their guards teachers," Arkalion commented dryly.</p> - -<p>"—come around, they will see that each man is strapped properly into -his bunk for deceleration. Deceleration begins in twenty-seven minutes."</p> - -<p><i>Mars</i>, thought Temple, back in his room with Arkalion. <i>Mars.</i> He did -not think of Stephanie, except as a man who knows he must spend the -rest of his life in prison might think of a lush green field, or the -cool swish of skis over fresh, powdery snow, or the sound of yardarms -creaking against the wind on a small sailing schooner, or the tang of -wieners roasting over an open fire with the crisp air of fall against -your back, or the scent of good French brandy, or a woman.</p> - -<p>Deceleration began promptly. Before his face was distorted and his eyes -forced shut by a pressure of four gravities, Temple had time to see the -look of complete unconcern on Arkalion's face. Arkalion, in fact, was -sleeping.</p> - -<p>He seemed as completely relaxed as he did that morning Temple thought -he was dead.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> - - -<p>"Petrovitch, S. A.!" called the Comrade standing abreast of the head -of the line, a thin, nervous man half a head shorter than the girl -herself. Sophia Androvna Petrovitch strode forward, took a pair of trim -white shorts from the neat stack at his left.</p> - -<p>"Is that all?" she said, looking at him.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Comrade. Well, a woman. Well."</p> - -<p>Without embarrassment, Sophia had seen the men ahead of her in line -strip and climb into the white shorts before they disappeared through a -portal ahead of the line, depositing their clothing in a growing pile -on the floor. But now it was Sophia's turn, after almost a two hour -wait. Not that it was chilly, but....</p> - -<p>"Is that all?" she repeated.</p> - -<p>"Certainly. Strip and move along, Comrade." The nervous little man -appraised her lecherously, she thought.</p> - -<p>"Then I must keep some of my own clothing," she told him.</p> - -<p>"Impossible. I have my orders."</p> - -<p>"I am a woman."</p> - -<p>"You are a volunteer for the Stalintrek. You will take no personal -property—no clothing—with you. Strip and advance, please."</p> - -<p>Sophia flushed slightly, while the men behind her began to call and -taunt.</p> - -<p>"I like this Stalintrek."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes."</p> - -<p>"We are waiting, Comrade."</p> - -<p>Quickly and with an objective detachment which surprised her, Sophia -unbuttoned her shirt, removed it. Her one wish—and an odd one, she -thought, smiling—was for wax for her ears. She loosened the three -snaps of her skirt, watched it fall to the floor. She stood there -briefly, lithe-limbed, a tall, slim girl, then had the white shorts -over her nakedness in one quick motion. She still wore a coarse halter.</p> - -<p>"All personal effects, Comrade," said the nervous little man.</p> - -<p>"No," Sophia told him.</p> - -<p>"But yes. Definitely, yes. You hold up the line, and we have a schedule -to maintain. The Stalintrek demands quick, prompt obedience."</p> - -<p>"Then you will give me one additional item of clothing."</p> - -<p>The man looked at Sophia's halter, at the fine way she filled it. He -shrugged. "We don't have it," he said, clearly enjoying himself.</p> - -<p>In volunteering for the Stalintrek, Sophia had invaded man's domain. -She had watched not with embarrassment but with scorn while the men in -front of her got out of their clothing. She had invaded man's domain, -and as she watched them, the short flabby ones, the bony ones with -protruding ribs and collar-bones, those of milky white skin and soft -hands, she knew most of them would bite off more than they could chew -if ever they tried what was the most natural thing for men to try with -a lone woman in an isolated environment. But she <i>was</i> in a man's world -now, and if that was the way they wanted it, she would ask no quarter.</p> - -<p>She reached up quickly with one hand and unfastened the halter, -catching it with her free hand and holding it in front of her breasts -while the nervous little man licked his lips and gaped. Sophia grabbed -another pair of the white shorts, tore it quickly with her strong -fingers, fashioning a crude covering for herself. This she pulled -around her, fastening it securely with a knot in back.</p> - -<p>"You'll have to give that back to me," declared the nervous little -Comrade.</p> - -<p>"I'll bet you a samovar on that," Sophia said quietly, so only the man -heard her.</p> - -<p>He reached out, as if to rip the crude halter from her body, but Sophia -met him halfway with her strong, slim fingers, wrapping them around -his biceps and squeezing. The man's face turned quickly to white as he -tried unsuccessfully to free his arm.</p> - -<p>"Please, that hurts."</p> - -<p>"I keep what I am wearing." She tightened her grip, but gazed serenely -into space as the man stifled a whimper.</p> - -<p>"Well—" the man whispered indecisively as he gritted his teeth.</p> - -<p>"Fool!" said Sophia. "Your arm will be black and blue for a week. While -you men grow soft and lazy, many of the women take their gymnastics -seriously, especially if they want to keep their figures with the work -they must do and the food they must eat. I am stronger than you and I -will hurt you unless—" And her hand tightened around his scrawny arm -until her knuckles showed white.</p> - -<p>"Wear what you have and go," the man pleaded, and moaned softly when -Sophia released his numb arm and strode through the portal, still -drawing whistles and leers from the other men, who missed the by-play -completely.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"So we're on Mars!"</p> - -<p>"It ain't Nowhere after all, it's Mars."</p> - -<p>"Wait and see, buster. Wait and see."</p> - -<p>"Kind of cold, isn't it? Well, if this was Venus and some of them -beautiful one-armed dames was waiting for us—"</p> - -<p>"That's just a statue, stupid."</p> - -<p>"Lookit all them people down there, will you?"</p> - -<p>"You think they're Martians?"</p> - -<p>"Stupid! We ain't the first ones went on the Nowhere Journey."</p> - -<p>"What are we waiting for? It sure will feel good to stretch your legs."</p> - -<p>"Let's go!"</p> - -<p>"Look out, Mars, here I come!"</p> - -<p>It would have been just right for a Hollywood epic, Temple thought. -The rusty ochre emptiness spreading out toward the horizon in all -directions, spotted occasionally with pale green and frosty white, the -sky gray with but a shade of blue in it, distant gusts of Martian wind -swirling ochre clouds across the desert, the spaceship poised on its -ungainly bottom, a great silver bowling ball with rocket tubes for -finger holes, and the Martians from Earth who had been here on this -alien world for seven-hundred-eighty days or twice seven-eighty or -three times, and who fought in frenzied eagerness, like savages, to -reach the descending gangplank first.</p> - -<p>Earth chorus: Hey, Martians, any of you guys speak English? Hah-ha, I -said, any of you guys....</p> - -<p>Where are all them canals I heard so much about?</p> - -<p>You think maybe they're dangerous? (Laughter)</p> - -<p>No dames. Hey, no dames....</p> - -<p>Who were you expecting, Donna Daunley?</p> - -<p>What kind of place is Mars with no women?</p> - -<p>What do they do here, anyway, just sit around and wait for the next -rocket?</p> - -<p>I'm cold.</p> - -<p>Get used to it, brother, get used to it.</p> - -<p>Look out, Mars, here I come!</p> - -<p>Martian chorus: Who won the Series last year, Detroit?</p> - -<p>Hey, bud, tell me, are dames still wearing those one piece things, all -colors, so you see their legs up to about here and their chests down to -about here? (Gestures lewdly)</p> - -<p>Which one of you guys can tell me what it's like to take a bath? I mean -a real bath in a real bath tub.</p> - -<p>Hey, we licked Russia yet?</p> - -<p>We heard they were gonna send some dames!</p> - -<p>Dames—ha-ha, you're breaking my heart.</p> - -<p>Tell me what a steak tastes like. So thick.</p> - -<p>Me? Gimme a bowl of steamed oysters. And a dame.</p> - -<p>Dames. Girls. Women. Females. Chicks. Tomatoes. Frails. Dames. Dames. -Dames....</p> - -<p>They did not seem to mind the cold, these Earth-Martians. Temple -guessed they never spent much time out of doors (above ground, for -there were no buildings?) because all seemed pale and white. While the -sun was weaker, so was the protection offered by a thinner atmosphere. -The sun's actinic rays could burn, and so could the sand-driving wind. -But pale skins could not be the result of staying indoors, for Temple -noted the lack of man-made structures at once. Underground, then. -The Earth-Martians lived underground like moles. Doing what? And for -what reason? With what ultimate goal, if any? And where did those men -who did not remain on Mars go? Temple's head whirled with countless -questions—and no answers.</p> - -<p>Shoulder to shoulder with Arkalion, he made his way down the gangplank, -turning up the collar of his jumper against the stinging wind.</p> - -<p>"You got any newspapers, pal?"</p> - -<p>"Magazines?"</p> - -<p>"Phonograph records?"</p> - -<p>"Gossip?"</p> - -<p>"Newsfilm?"</p> - -<p>"Who's the heavyweight champ?"</p> - -<p>"We lick those Commies in Burma yet?"</p> - -<p>"Step back! Watch that man. Maybe he's your replacement."</p> - - -<p>"Replacement. Ha-ha. That's good."</p> - -<p>All types of men. All ages. In torn, tattered clothing, mostly. In -rags. Even if a man seemed more well-groomed than the rest, on closer -examination Temple could see the careful stitching, the patches, the -fades and stains. No one seemed to mind.</p> - -<p>"Hey, bud. What do you hear about rotation? They passed any laws yet?"</p> - -<p>"I been here ten years. When do <i>I</i> get rotated?"</p> - -<p>"Ain't that something? Dad Jenks came here with the first ship. Don't -you talk about rotation. Ask Dad."</p> - -<p>"Better not mention that word to Dad Jenks. He sees red."</p> - -<p>"This whole damn planet is red."</p> - -<p>"Want a guided tour of Nowhere, men? Step right up."</p> - -<p>Arkalion grinned. "They seem so well-adjusted," he said, then shuddered -against the cold and followed Temple, with the others, through the -crowd.</p> - -<p>They were inoculated against nameless diseases. (Watch for the needle -with the hook)</p> - -<p>They were told again they had arrived on the planet Mars. (No kidding?)</p> - -<p>Led to a drab underground city, dimly lit, dank, noisome with mold and -mildew. (Quick, the chlorophyll)</p> - -<p>Assigned bunks in a dormitory, with four men to a room. (Be it ever so -humble—bah!)</p> - -<p>Told to keep things clean and assigned temporarily to a garbage pickup -detail. (For this I left Sheboygan?)</p> - -<p>Read to from the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and -Public Law 1182 (concerned with the Nowhere Journey, it told them -nothing they did not already know).</p> - -<p>Given as complete a battery of tests, mental, emotional and physical, -as Temple ever knew existed. (Cripes, man! How the hell should I know -what the cube root of -5 is? I never finished high school!)</p> - -<p>Subjected to an exhaustive, overlong, and at times meaningless personal -interview. (No doc, honest. I never knew I had a—uh—anxiety neurosis. -Is it dangerous?)</p> - -<p>"How do you do, Temple? Sit down."</p> - -<p>"Thank you."</p> - -<p>"Thought you'd like to know that while your overall test score is not -uncanny, it's decidedly high."</p> - -<p>"So what?"</p> - -<p>"So nothing—not necessarily. Except that with it you have a very well -balanced personality. We can use you, Temple."</p> - -<p>"That's why I'm here."</p> - -<p>"I mean—elsewhere. Mars is only a way station, a training center for a -select few. It takes an awful lot of administrative work to keep this -place going, which explains the need for all the station personnel."</p> - -<p>"Listen. The last few weeks I had everything thrown at me. Everything, -the works. Mind answering one question?"</p> - -<p>"Shoot."</p> - -<p>"What's this all about?"</p> - -<p>"Temple, I don't know!"</p> - -<p>"You what?"</p> - -<p>"I know you find it hard to believe, but I don't. There isn't a man -here on Mars who knows the whole story, either—and certainly not on -Earth. We know enough to keep everything in operation. And we know it's -important, all of it, everything we do."</p> - -<p>"You mentioned a need for some men elsewhere. Where?"</p> - -<p>The psychiatrist shrugged. "I don't know. Somewhere. Anywhere." He -spread his hands out eloquently. "That's where the Nowhere Journey -comes in."</p> - -<p>"Surely you can tell me something more than—"</p> - -<p>"Absolutely not. It isn't that I don't want to. I can't. I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Well, one more question I'd like you to answer."</p> - -<p>The psychiatrist lit a cigarette, grinned. "Say, who is interviewing -whom?"</p> - -<p>"This one I think you can tackle. I have a brother, Jason Temple. -Embarked on the Nowhere Journey five years ago. I wonder—"</p> - -<p>"So that's the one factor in your psychograph we couldn't figure -out—anxiety over your brother."</p> - -<p>"I doubt it," shrugged Temple. "More likely my fiancee."</p> - -<p>"Umm, common enough. You were to be married?"</p> - -<p>"Yes." <i>Stephanie, what are you doing now? Right now?</i></p> - -<p>"That's what hurts the most.... Well, yes, I can find out about your -brother." The psychiatrist flicked a toggle on his desk. "Jamison, find -what you can on Temple, Jason, year of—"</p> - -<p>"1987," Temple supplied.</p> - -<p>"1987. We'll wait."</p> - -<p>After a moment or two, the voice came through, faintly metallic: -"Temple, Jason. Arrival: 1987. Psychograph, 115-bl2. Mental aggregate, -98. Physcom, good to excellent. Training: two years, space perception -concentrate, others. Shipped out: 1989."</p> - -<p>So Jase had shipped out for—Nowhere.</p> - -<p>"Someday you'll follow in your brother's footsteps, Temple. Now, -though, I have a few hundred questions I'd like you to answer."</p> - -<p>The psychiatrist hadn't exaggerated. Several hours of questioning -followed. Once reminded of her, Temple found it hard to keep his -thought off Stephanie.</p> - -<p>He left the psychiatrist's office more confused than ever.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Good morning, child. You are Stephanie Andrews?" Stephanie hadn't -felt up to working that first morning after Kit's final goodbye. She -answered the door in her bathrobe, saw a small, middle-aged woman with -graying hair and a kind face. "That's right. Won't you come in?"</p> - -<p>"Thank you. I represent the Complete Emancipation League, Miss Andrews."</p> - -<p>"Complete Emancipation League? Oh, something to do with politics. -Really, I'm not much interested in—"</p> - -<p>"That's entirely the trouble," declared the older woman. "Too many of -us are not interested in politics. I'd like to discuss the C.E.L. with -you, my dear, if you will bear with me a few minutes."</p> - -<p>"All right," said Stephanie. "Would you like a glass of sherry?"</p> - -<p>"In the morning?" the older woman smiled.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry. Don't mind me. My fiance left yesterday, took his final -goodbye. He—he embarked on the Nowhere Journey."</p> - -<p>"I realize that. It is precisely why I am here. My dear, the C.E.L. -does not want to fight the government. If the government decides that -the Nowhere Journey is vital for the welfare of the country—even -if the government won't or can't explain what the Nowhere Journey -is—that's all right with us. But if the government says there is a -rotation system but does absolutely nothing about it, we're interested -in that. Do you follow me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!" cried Stephanie. "Oh, yes. Go on."</p> - -<p>"The C.E.L. has sixty-eight people in Congress for the current term. -We hope to raise that number to seventy-five for next election. It's -a long fight, a slow uphill fight, and frankly, my dear, we need all -the help we can get. People—young women like yourself, my dear—are -entirely too lethargic, if you'll forgive me."</p> - -<p>"You ought to forgive <i>me</i>," said Stephanie, "if you will. You know, -it's funny. I had vague ideas about helping Kit, about finding some way -to get him back. Only to tackle something like that alone.... I'm only -twenty-one, just a girl, and I don't know anyone important. No one ever -comes back, that's what you hear. But there's a rotation system, you -also hear that. If I can be of any help...."</p> - -<p>"You certainly can, my dear. We'd be delighted to have you."</p> - -<p>"Then, eventually, maybe, just maybe, we'll start getting them rotated -home?"</p> - -<p>"We can't promise a thing. We can only try. And I never did say we'd -try to get the boys rotated, my dear. There is a rotation system in -the law, right there in Public Law 1182. But if no men have ever been -rotated, there must be a reason for it."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but—"</p> - -<p>"But we'll see. If for some reason rotation simply is not practicable, -we'll find another way. Which is why we call ourselves the -C.E.L.—Complete Emancipation League—for women. If men must embark on -the Nowhere Journey—the least they can do is let their women volunteer -to go along with them if they want to—since it may be forever. Let a -bunch of women get to this Nowhere place and you'll never know what -might happen, that's what I say."</p> - -<p>Something about the gray haired woman's earthly confidence imbued -Stephanie with an optimism she never expected. "Well," she said, -smiling, "if we can't bring ourselves to Mohammed.... No, that's all -wrong!... to the mountain...?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, there's an old saying. But it isn't important. You get the idea. -My dear, how would you like to go to Nowhere?"</p> - -<p>"I—to Kit, anywhere, anywhere!" <i>I'll never forget yesterday, Kit -darling. Never!</i></p> - -<p>"I make no promises, Stephanie, but it may be sooner than you think. -Morning be hanged, perhaps I will have some sherry after all. Umm, you -wouldn't by any chance have some Canadian instead?"</p> - -<p>Humming, Stephanie dashed into the kitchen for some glasses.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There were times when the real Alaric Arkalion III wished his father -would mind his own business. Like that thing about the Nowhere Journey, -for instance. Maybe Alaric Sr. didn't realize it, but being the spoiled -son of a billionaire wasn't all fun. "I'm a dilettante," Alaric would -tell himself often, gazing in the mirror, "a bored dilettante at the -age of twenty-one."</p> - -<p>Which in itself, he had to admit, wasn't too bad. But having reneged -on the Nowhere Journey in favor of a stranger twice his age who now -carried his, Alaric's face, had engendered some annoying complications. -"You'll either have to hide or change your own appearance and identity, -Alaric."</p> - -<p>"Hide? For how long, father?"</p> - -<p>"I can't be sure. Years, probably."</p> - -<p>"That's crazy. I'm not going to hide for years."</p> - -<p>"Then change your appearance. Your way of life. Your occupation."</p> - -<p>"I have no occupation."</p> - -<p>"Get one. Change your face, too. Your fingerprints. It can be done. -Become a new man, live a new life."</p> - -<p>In hiding there was boredom, impossible boredom. In the other -alternative there was adventure, intrigue—but uncertainty. One part of -young Alaric craved that uncertainty, the rest of him shunned it. In a -way it was like the Nowhere Journey all over again.</p> - -<p>"Maybe Nowhere wouldn't have been so bad," said Alaric to his father, -choosing as a temporary alternative and retreat what he knew couldn't -possibly happen.</p> - -<p>Couldn't it?</p> - -<p>"If I choose another identity, I'd be eligible again for the Nowhere -Journey."</p> - -<p>"By George, I hadn't considered that. No, wait. You could be older than -twenty-six."</p> - -<p>"I like it the way I am," Alaric said, pouting.</p> - -<p>"Then you'll have to hide. I spent ten million dollars to secure your -future, Alaric. I don't want you to throw it away."</p> - -<p>Alaric pouted some more. "Let me think about it."</p> - -<p>"Fair enough, but I'll want your answer tomorrow. Meanwhile, you are -not to leave the house."</p> - -<p>Alaric agreed verbally, but took the first opportunity which presented -itself—that very night—to sneak out the servants' door, go downtown, -and get stewed to the gills.</p> - -<p>At two in the morning he was picked up by the police for disorderly -conduct (it had happened before) after losing a fistfight to a much -poorer, much meaner drunk in a downtown bar. They questioned Alaric at -the police station, examined his belongings, went through his wallet, -notified his home.</p> - -<p>Fuming, Alaric Sr. rushed to the police station to get his son. He was -met by the desk sergeant, a fat, balding man who wore his uniform in a -slovenly fashion.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Arkalion?" demanded the sergeant, picking at his teeth with a -toothpick.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I have come for Alaric, my son."</p> - -<p>"Sure. Sure. But your son's in trouble, Mr. Arkalion. Serious trouble."</p> - -<p>"What are you talking about? If there are any damages, I'll pay. He -didn't—hurt, anyone, did he?"</p> - -<p>The sergeant broke the toothpick between his teeth, laughed. "Him? Naw. -He got the hell beat out of him by a drunk half his size. It ain't that -kind of trouble, Mr. Arkalion. You know what an 1182 card is, mister?"</p> - -<p>Arkalion's face drained white. "Why—yes."</p> - -<p>"Alaric's got one."</p> - -<p>"Naturally."</p> - -<p>"According to the card, he should have shipped out on the Nowhere -Journey, mister. He didn't. He's in serious trouble."</p> - -<p>"I'll see the district attorney."</p> - -<p>"More'n likely, you'll see the attorney general. Serious trouble."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></h2> - - -<p>The trouble with the Stalintrek, Sophia thought, was that it took -months to get absolutely nowhere. There had been the painful pressure, -the loss of consciousness, the confinement in this tight little world -of dormitories and gleaming metal walls, the uncanny feeling of no -weight, the ability—boring after a while, but interesting at first—to -float about in air almost at will.</p> - -<p>Then, how many months of sameness? Sophia had lost all track of time -through <i>ennui</i>. But for the first brief period of adjustment on the -part of her fellows to the fact that although she was a woman and -shared their man's life she was still to be inviolate, the routine -had been anything but exciting. The period of adjustment had had its -adventures, its uncertainties, its challenge, and to Sophia it had been -stimulating. Why was it, she wondered, that the men who carried their -sex with strength and dignity, the hard-muscled men who could have -their way with her if they resorted to force were the men who did not -violate her privacy, while the weaklings, the softer, smaller men, or -the average men whom Sophia considered her physical equals were the -ones who gave her trouble?</p> - -<p>She had always accepted her beauty, the obvious attraction men found in -her, with an objective unconcern. She had been endowed with sex appeal; -there was not much room in her life to exploit it, even had she wanted -to. Now, now when she wanted anything but that, it gave her trouble.</p> - -<p>Her room was shared, of necessity, with three men. Tall, gangling -Boris gave her no trouble, turned his back when she undressed for the -evening, even though she was careful to slip under the covers first. -Ivan, the second man, was short, thin, stooped. Often she found him -looking at her with what might have been more than a healthy interest, -but aside from that he kept his peace. Besides, Ivan had spent -two years in secondary school (as much as Sophia) and she enjoyed -conversing with him.</p> - -<p>The third man, Georgi, was the troublemaker. Georgi was one of those -plump young men with red cheeks, big, eager eyes, a voice somewhat too -high. He was an avid talker, a boaster and a bore. In the beginning he -showered attentions on Sophia. He insisted on drawing her wash-basin -at night, escorted her to breakfast every morning, told her in -confidence of the conquests he had made over beautiful women (but not -as beautiful as you, Sophia). He soon began to take liberties. He would -sit—timorously at first, but with growing boldness—on the corner of -her bed, talking with her at night after the others had retired, Ivan -with his snores, Boris with his strong, deep breathing. And night after -night, plump Georgi grew bolder.</p> - -<p>He would reach out and touch Sophia, he would insist on tucking her -in at night (let me be your big brother), he would awaken her in the -morning with his hand heavy on her shoulder. Finally, one night at -bedtime, she heard him conversing in low whispers with Ivan and Boris. -She could not hear the words, but Boris looked at her with what she -thought was surprise, Ivan nodded in an understanding way, and both of -them left the room.</p> - -<p>Sophia frowned. "What did you tell them, Georgi?"</p> - -<p>"That we wanted to be alone one evening, of course."</p> - -<p>"I never gave you any indication—"</p> - -<p>"I could see it in your eyes, in the way you looked at me."</p> - -<p>"Well, you had better call them back inside and go to bed."</p> - -<p>Georgi shook his head, approached her.</p> - -<p>"Georgi! Call them back or I will."</p> - -<p>"No, you won't." Georgi followed her as she retreated into a corner of -the room. When she reached the wall and could retreat no further, he -placed his thick hands on her shoulders, drew her to him slowly. "You -will call no one," he rasped.</p> - -<p>She ducked under his arms, eluded him, was on the point of running to -the door, throwing it open and shouting, when she considered. If she -did, she would be asking for quarter, gaining a temporary reprieve, -inviting the same sort of thing all over again.</p> - -<p>She crossed to the bed and sat down. "Come here, Georgi."</p> - -<p>"Ah." He came to her.</p> - -<p>She watched him warily, a soft flabby man not quite so tall as she -was, but who nevertheless outweighed her by thirty or forty pounds. In -his eagerness, he walked too fast, lost his footing and floated gently -to the ceiling. Smiling as demurely as she could, Sophia reached up, -circled his ankle with her hand.</p> - -<p>"I never could get used to this weightlessness," Georgi admitted. "Be -nice and pull me down."</p> - -<p>"I will be nice. I will teach you a lesson."</p> - -<p>He weighed exactly nothing. It was as simple as stretching. Sophia -merely extended her arm upwards and Georgi's head hit the ceiling with -a loud <i>thunk</i>. Georgi groaned. Sophia repeated the procedure, lowering -her arm a foot—and Georgi with it—then raising it and bouncing his -head off the ceiling.</p> - -<p>"I don't understand," Georgi whined, trying to break free but only -succeeding in thrashing his chubby arms foolishly.</p> - -<p>"You haven't mastered weightlessness," Sophia smiled up at him. "I -have. I said I would teach you a lesson. First make sure you have the -strength of a man if you would play a man's game."</p> - -<p>Still smiling, Sophia commenced spinning the hand which held Georgi's -ankle. Arms and free leg flailing air helplessly, Georgi began to spin.</p> - -<p>"Put me down!" he whined, a boy now, not even pretending to be a man. -When Sophia shoved out gently and let his ankle go he did a neat flip -in air and hung suspended, upside down, his feet near the ceiling, his -head on a level with Sophia's shoulders. He cried.</p> - -<p>She slapped his upside down face, carefully and without excitement, -reddening the cheeks. "I was—only joking," he slobbered. "Call back -our friends."</p> - -<p>Sophia found one of the hard, air-tight metal flasks they used for -drinking in weightlessness. With one hand she opened the lid, with the -other she grasped Georgi's shoulder and spun him in air, still upside -down. She squirted the water in his face, and because he was upside -down and yelling it made him choke and cough. When the container was -empty she lowered Georgi gently to the floor.</p> - -<p>Minutes later, she opened the door, summoned Boris and Ivan, who came -into the room self-consciously. What they found was a thoroughly -beaten Georgi sobbing on the floor. After that, Sophia had no trouble. -Week after week of boredom followed and she almost wished Georgi or -someone else would <i>look</i> for trouble ... even if it were something -she could not handle, for although she was stronger than average and -more beautiful, she was still a woman first, and she knew if the right -man....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Did you know that radio communication is maintained between Earth and -Mars?" the Alaric Arkalion on Mars asked Temple.</p> - -<p>"Why, no. I never thought about it."</p> - -<p>"It is, and I am in some difficulty."</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" Temple had grown to like Arkalion, despite the -man's peculiarities. He had given up trying to figure him out, feeling -that the only way he'd get anywhere was with Arkalion's cooperation.</p> - -<p>"It's a long story which I'm afraid you would not altogether -understand. The authorities on Earth don't think I belong here on the -Nowhere Journey."</p> - -<p>"Is that so? A mistake, huh? I sure am glad for you, Alaric."</p> - -<p>"That's not the difficulty. It seems that there is the matter of -impersonation, of violating some of the clauses in Public Law 1182. -You're glad for me. I'm likely to go to prison."</p> - -<p>"If it's that serious, how come they told you?"</p> - -<p>"They didn't. But I—managed to find out. I won't go into details, -Kit, but obviously, if I managed to embark for Nowhere when I didn't -have to, then I wanted to go. Right?"</p> - -<p>"I—uh, guess so. But why—?"</p> - -<p>"That isn't the point. I <i>still</i> want to go. Not to Mars, but to -Nowhere. I still can, despite what has happened, but I need help."</p> - -<p>Temple said, "Anything I can do, I'll be glad to," and meant it. For -one thing, he liked Arkalion. For another, Arkalion seemed to know -more, much more than he would ever say—unless Temple could win his -confidence. For a third, Temple was growing sick and tired of Mars -with its drab ochre sameness (when he got to the surface, which was -rarely), with its dank underground city, with its meaningless attention -to meaningless detail. Either way, he figured there was no returning to -Earth. If Nowhere meant adventure, as he suspected it might, it would -be preferable. Mars might have been the other end of the galaxy for all -its nearness to Earth, anyway.</p> - -<p>"There is a great deal you can do. But you'll have to come with me."</p> - -<p>"Where?" Temple demanded.</p> - -<p>"Where you will go eventually. To Nowhere."</p> - -<p>"Fine." And Temple smiled. "Why not now as well as later?"</p> - -<p>"I'll be frank with you. If you go now, you go untrained. You may need -your training. Undoubtedly, you will."</p> - -<p>"You know a lot more than you want to talk about, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Frankly, yes.... I am sorry, Kit."</p> - -<p>"That's all right. You have your reasons. I guess if I go with you I'll -find out soon enough, anyway."</p> - -<p>Arkalion grinned. "You have guessed correctly. I am going to Nowhere, -before they return me to Earth for prosecution under Public Law 1182. I -cannot go alone, for it takes at least two to operate ... well, you'll -see."</p> - -<p>"Count me in," said Temple.</p> - -<p>"Remember, you may one day wish you had remained on Mars for your -training."</p> - -<p>"I'll take my chances. Mars is driving me crazy. All I do is think of -Earth and Stephanie."</p> - -<p>"Then come."</p> - -<p>"Where are we going?"</p> - -<p>"A long, long way off. It is unthinkably remote, this place called -Nowhere."</p> - -<p>Temple felt suddenly like a kid playing hookey from school. "Lead -on," he said, almost jauntily. He knew he was leaving Stephanie still -further behind, but had he been in prison on the next street to hers, -he might as well have been a million miles away.</p> - -<p>As for Arkalion—the thought suddenly struck Temple—Arkalion wasn't -necessarily leaving his world further behind. Perhaps Arkalion was -going home....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Stephanie picked up the phone eagerly. In the weeks since her first -meeting with Mrs. Draper of the C.E.L., the older woman had been a -fountain of information and of hope for her. Stephanie for her part had -taken over Mrs. Draper's job in her own section of Center City: she was -busy contacting the two hundred mothers and fifty sweethearts of the -Nowhere Journey which had taken Kit from her. And now Mrs. Draper had -called with information.</p> - -<p>"We've successfully combined forces with some of the less militant -elements in both houses of Congress," Mrs. Draper told her over the -phone. "Do you realize, my dear, this marks the first time the C.E.L. -has managed to put something constructive through Congress? Until now -we've been content merely to block legislation, such as an increase in -the Nowhere contingent from...."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mrs. Draper. I know all that. But what about this constructive -thing you've done."</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear, don't count your chickens. But we <i>have</i> passed the -bill, and we expect the President won't veto it. You see, the President -has two nephews who...."</p> - -<p>"I know. I know. What bill did you pass?"</p> - -<p>"Unfortunately, it's somewhat vague. Ultimately, the Nowhere Commission -must do the deciding, but it does pave the way."</p> - -<p>"For what, Mrs. Draper?"</p> - -<p>"Hold onto your hat, my dear. The bill authorizes the Nowhere -Commission to make as much of a study as it can of conditions—wherever -our boys are sent."</p> - -<p>"Oh." Stephanie was disappointed. "That won't get them back to us."</p> - -<p>"No. You're right, it won't get them back to us. That isn't the idea at -all, for there is more than one way to skin a cat, my dear. The Nowhere -Commission will be studying conditions—"</p> - -<p>"How can they? I thought everything was so hush-hush, not even Congress -knew anything about it."</p> - -<p>"That was the first big hurdle we have apparently overcome. Anyway, -they will be studying conditions with a view of determining if one -girl—just one, mind you—can embark on the Nowhere Journey as a pilot -study and—"</p> - -<p>"But I thought they could make the journey only once every -seven-hundred-eighty days."</p> - -<p>"Get Congress aroused and you can move mountains. It seems the expense -entailed in a trip at any but those times is generally prohibitive, but -when something special comes up—"</p> - -<p>"It can be done! Mrs. Draper, how I love to talk with you!"</p> - -<p>"See? There you go, my dear, counting your chickens. One girl will be -sent, if the study indicates she can take it. One girl, Stephanie, and -only after a study. She'd merely be a pilot case. But afterwards.... -Ah, afterwards.... Perhaps someday soon qualified women will be able -to join their men in Nowhere."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Draper, I love you."</p> - -<p>"Naturally, you will tell all this to prospective C.E.L. members. Now -we have something concrete to work with."</p> - -<p>"I know. And I will, I will, Mrs. Draper. By the way, how are they -going to pick the girl, the one girl?"</p> - -<p>"Don't count your chickens, for Heaven's sake! They haven't even -studied the situation yet. Well, I'll call you, my dear."</p> - -<p>Stephanie hung up, dressed, went about her canvassing. She thought -happy thoughts all week.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Shh! Quiet," cautioned Arkalion, leading the way down a flight of -heavy-duty plastic stairs.</p> - -<p>"How do you know your way around here so well?"</p> - -<p>"I said quiet."</p> - -<p>It was not so much, Temple realized, that Arkalion was really afraid of -making noise. Rather, he did not want to answer questions.</p> - -<p>Temple smiled in the semi-darkness, heard the steady drip-drip-drip of -water off somewhere to his left. Eons before the coming of man on this -stopover point to Nowhere, the Martian waters had retreated from the -planet's ancient surface and seeped underground to carve, slow drop by -drop, the caverns which honey-combed the planet. "You know your way -around so well, I'd swear you were a Martian."</p> - -<p>Arkalion's soft laugh carried far. "I said there was to be no noise. -Please! As for the Martians, the only Martians are here all around you, -the men of Earth. Ahh, here we are."</p> - -<p>At the bottom of the flight of stairs Temple could see a door, -metallic, giving the impression of strength without great weight. -Arkalion paused a moment, did something with a series of levers, shook -his head impatiently, started all over again.</p> - -<p>"What's that for?" Temple wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"What do you think? It is a combination lock, with five million -possible combinations. Do you want to be here for all of eternity?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Then quiet."</p> - -<p>Vaguely, Temple wondered why the door wasn't guarded.</p> - -<p>"With a lock like this," Arkalion explained, as if he had read Temple's -thought, "they need no other precaution. It is assumed that only -authorized personnel know the combination."</p> - -<p>Then had Arkalion come this way before? It seemed the only possible -assumption. But when? And how? "Here we are," said Arkalion.</p> - -<p>The door swung in toward them.</p> - -<p>Temple strode forward, found himself in a great bare hall, surprisingly -well-lighted. After the dimness of the caverns, he hardly could see.</p> - -<p>"Don't stand there scowling and fussing with your eyes. There is one -additional precaution—an alarm at Central Headquarters. We have about -five minutes, no more."</p> - -<p>At one end of the bare hall stood what to Temple looked for all the -world like an old-fashioned telephone booth, except that its walls were -completely opaque. On the wall adjacent to it was a single lever with -two positions marked "hold" and "transport". The lever stood firmly in -the "hold" position.</p> - -<p>"You sure you want to come?" Arkalion demanded.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I told you that."</p> - -<p>"Good. I have no time to explain. I will enter the conveyor."</p> - -<p>"Conveyor?"</p> - -<p>"This booth. You will wait until the door is shut, then pull the lever -down. That is all there is to it, but, as you can see, it is a two-man -operation."</p> - -<p>"But how do I—"</p> - -<p>"Haste, haste! There are similar controls at the other end. You pull -the lever, wait two minutes, enter the conveyor yourself. I will fetch -you—if you are sure."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure, dammit!"</p> - -<p>"Remember, you go without training, without the opportunity everyone -else has."</p> - -<p>"You already told me that. Mars is halfway to eternity. Mars is limbo. -If I can't go back to Earth I want to go—well, to Nowhere. There are -too many ghosts here, too many memories with nothing to do."</p> - -<p>Arkalion shrugged, entered the booth. "Pull the lever," he said, and -shut the door.</p> - -<p>Temple reached up, grasped the lever firmly in his hand, yanked it. It -slid smoothly to the position marked "transport." Temple heard nothing, -saw nothing, began to think the device, whatever it was, did not work. -Did Arkalion somehow get <i>moved</i> inside the booth?</p> - -<p>Temple thought he heard footfalls on the stairs outside. Soon, faintly, -he could hear voices. Someone banged on the door to the hall. Licking -dry lips, Temple opened the booth, peered inside.</p> - -<p>Empty.</p> - -<p>The voices clamored, fists pounded on the door. Something clicked. -Tumblers fell. The door to the great, bright hall sprung outward. -Someone rushed in at Temple, who met him savagely with a short, -chopping blow to his jaw. The man, temporarily blinded by the dazzling -light, stumbled back in the path of his fellows.</p> - -<p>Temple darted into the booth, the conveyor, and slammed it shut. -Fingers clawed on the outside.</p> - -<p>A sound almost too intense to be heard rang in Temple's ears. He lost -consciousness instantly.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> - - -<p>"What a cockeyed world," said Alaric Arkalion Sr. to his son. "You -certainly can't plan on anything, even if you do have more money than -you'll ever possibly need in a lifetime."</p> - -<p>"Don't feel like that," said young Alaric. "I'm not in prison any -longer, am I?"</p> - -<p>"No. But you're not free of the Nowhere Journey, either. There is an -unheralded special trip to Nowhere, two weeks from today, I have been -informed."</p> - -<p>"Oh?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, oh. I have also been informed that you will be on it. You didn't -escape after all, Alaric."</p> - -<p>"Oh. Oh!"</p> - -<p>"What bothers me most is that scoundrel Smith somehow managed to -escape. They haven't found him yet, I have also been informed. And -since my contract with him calls for ten million dollars 'for services -rendered,' I'll have to pay."</p> - -<p>"But he didn't prevent me from—"</p> - -<p>"I can't air this thing, Alaric! But listen, son: when you go where you -are going, you're liable to find another Alaric Arkalion, your double. -Of course, that would be Smith. If you can get him to cut his price in -half because of what has happened, I would be delighted. If you could -somehow manage to wring his neck, I would be even more delighted. Ten -million dollars—for nothing."</p> - -<p>"I'm so excited," murmured Mrs. Draper. Stephanie watched her on one of -the new televiewers, recently installed in place of the telephone.</p> - -<p>"What is it?"</p> - -<p>"Our bill has been passed by a landslide majority in both houses of -Congress!"</p> - -<p>"Ooo!" cried Stephanie.</p> - -<p>"Not very coherent, my dear, but those are my sentiments exactly. In -two weeks there will be a Journey to Nowhere, a special one which will -include, among its passengers, a woman."</p> - -<p>"But the study which had to be made—?"</p> - -<p>"It's already been made. From what I gather, they can't take it very -far. Most of their conclusions had to be based on supposition. The -important thing, though, is this: a woman <i>will</i> be sent. The way the -C.E.L. figures it, my dear, is that a woman falling in the twenty-one -to twenty-six age group should be chosen, a woman who meets all the -requirements placed upon the young men."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Stephanie. "Of course. And I was just thinking that I would -be—"</p> - -<p>"Remember those chickens!" cautioned Mrs. Draper. "We already have one -hundred seventy-seven volunteers who'd claw each other to pieces for a -chance to go."</p> - -<p>"Wrong," Stephanie said, smiling. "You now have one hundred -seventy-eight."</p> - -<p>"Room for only one, my dear. Only one, you know."</p> - -<p>"Then cross the others off your list. I'm already packing my bag."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When Temple regained consciousness, it was with the feeling that no -more than a split second of time had elapsed. So much had happened so -rapidly that, until now, he hadn't had time to consider it.</p> - -<p>Arkalion had vanished.</p> - -<p>Vanished—he could use no other word. He was there, standing in the -booth—and then he wasn't. Simple as that. Now you see it, now you -don't. And goodbye, Arkalion.</p> - -<p>But goodbye Temple, too. For hadn't Temple entered the same booth, -waiting but a second until Arkalion activated the mechanism at the -other end? And certainly Temple wasn't in the booth now. He smiled at -the ridiculously simple logic of his thoughts. He stood in an open -field, the blades of grass rising to his knees, as much brilliant -purple as they were green. Waves of the grass, stirred like tide by -the gentle wind, and hills rolling off toward the horizon in whichever -direction he turned. Far away, the undulating hills lifted to a half -soft mauve sky. A somber red sun with twice Sol's apparent disc but -half its brightness hung mid-way between zenith and horizon completing -the picture of peaceful other-worldliness.</p> - -<p>Wherever this was, it wasn't Earth—or Mars.</p> - -<p>Nowhere?</p> - -<p>Temple shrugged, started walking. He chose his direction at random, -crushing an easily discernible path behind him in the surprisingly -brittle grass. The warm sun baked his back comfortably, the -soft-stirring wind caressed his cheeks. Of Arkalion he found not a -trace.</p> - -<p>Two hours later Temple reached the hills and started climbing their -gentle slopes. It was then that he saw the figure approaching on the -run. It took him fully half a minute to realize that the runner was not -human.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>After months of weightless inactivity, things started to happen for -Sophia. The feeling of weight returned, but weight as she never had -felt it before. It was as if someone was sitting on every inch of her -body, crushing her down. It made her gasp, forced her eyes shut and, -although she could not see it, contorted her face horribly. She lost -consciousness, coming to some time later with a dreadful feeling of -loginess. Someone swam into her vision dimly, stung her arm briefly -with a needle. She slept.</p> - -<p>She was on a table, stretched out, with lights glaring down at her. She -heard voices.</p> - -<p>"The new system is far better than testing, comrade."</p> - -<p>"Far more efficient, far more objective. Yes."</p> - -<p>"The brain emits electromagnetic vibration. Strange, is it not, that no -one before ever imagined it could tell a story. A completely accurate -story two years of testing could not give us."</p> - -<p>"In Russia we have gone far with the biological, psychological -sciences. The West flies high with physics. Give them Mars; bah, they -can have Mars."</p> - -<p>"True, Comrade. The journey to Jupiter is greater, the time consumed -is longer, the cost, more expensive. But here on Jupiter we can do -something they cannot do on Mars."</p> - -<p>"I know."</p> - -<p>"We can make supermen. Supermen, comrade. A wedding of Nietzsche and -Marx."</p> - -<p>"Careful. Those are dangerous thoughts."</p> - -<p>"Merely an allusion, comrade. Merely a harmless allusion. But you -take an ordinary human being and train him on Jupiter, speeding his -time-sense and metabolic rate tremendously with certain endocrine -secretions so that one day is as a month to him. You take him and -subject him to big Jupiter's pull of gravity, more than twice -Earth's—and in three weeks you have, yes—you have a superman."</p> - -<p>"The woman wakes."</p> - -<p>"Shh. Do not frighten her."</p> - -<p>Sophia stretched, every muscle in her body aching. Slowly, as in a -dream, she sat up. It required strength, the mere act of pulling her -torso upright!</p> - -<p>"What have you done to me?" she cried, focusing her still-dim vision on -the two men.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, comrade. Relax."</p> - -<p>Sophia turned slowly on the table, got one long shapely leg draped over -its edge.</p> - -<p>"Careful, comrade."</p> - -<p>What were they warning her about? She merely wanted to get up and -stretch; perhaps then she would feel better. Her toe touched the floor, -she swung her other leg over, aware of but ignoring her nakedness.</p> - -<p>"A good specimen."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, comrade. So this time they send a woman among the others. -Well, we shall do our work. Look—see the way she is formed, so lithe, -loose-limbed, agile. See the toning of the muscles? Her beauty will -remain, comrade, but Jupiter shall make an amazon of her."</p> - -<p>Sophia had both feet on the floor now. She was breathing hard, felt -suddenly sick to her stomach. Placing both her hands on the table edge, -she pushed off and staggered for two or three paces. She crumpled, -buckling first at the knees then the waist and fell in a writhing heap.</p> - -<p>"Pick her up."</p> - -<p>Hands under her arms, tugging. She came off the floor easily, dimly -aware that someone carried her hundred and thirty pounds effortlessly. -"Put me down!" she cried. "I want to try again. I am crippled, -crippled! You have crippled me...."</p> - -<p>"Nothing of the sort, comrade. You are tired, weak, and Jupiter's -gravity field is still too strong for you. Little by little, though, -your muscles will strengthen to Jupiter's demands. Gravity will keep -them from bulging, expanding; but every muscle fibre in you will have -twice, three times its original strength. Are you excited?"</p> - -<p>"I am tired and sick. I want to sleep. What is Jupiter?"</p> - -<p>"Jupiter is a planet circling the sun at—never mind, comrade. You have -much to learn, but you can assimilate it with much less trouble in your -sleep. Go ahead, sleep."</p> - -<p>Sophia retched, was sick. It had been years since she cried. But -naked, afraid, bewildered, she cried herself to sleep.</p> - -<p>Things happened while she slept, many things. Certain endocrine -extracts accelerated her metabolism astonishingly. Within half an hour -her heart was pumping blood through her body two hundred beats per -minute. An hour later it reached its full rate, almost one thousand -contractions every sixty seconds. All her other metabolic functions -increased accordingly, and Sophia slept deeply for a week of subjective -time—in hours. The same machine which had gleaned everything from -her mind far more accurately than a battery of tests, a refinement of -the electro-encephalogram, was now played in reverse, giving back to -Sophia everything it had taken plus electrospool after electrospool of -science, mathematics, logic, economics, history (Marxian, these last -two), languages (including English), semantics and certain specialized -knowledge she would need later on the Stalintrek.</p> - -<p>Still sleeping, Sophia was bathed in a warm whirlpool of soothing -liquid; rubbed, massaged, her muscle-toning begun while she rested and -regained her strength. Three hours later, objective time, she awoke -with a headache and with more thoughts spinning around madly inside -her brain than she ever knew existed. Gingerly, she tried standing -again, lifting herself nude and dripping wet from a tub of steaming -amber stuff. She stood, stretched, permitted her fright to vanish -with a quick wave of vertigo which engulfed her. She had been fed -intravenously, but a tremendous hunger possessed her. Before eating, -however, she was to find herself in a gymnasium, the air close and -stifling. She was massaged again, told to do certain exercises which -seemed simple but which she found extremely difficult, forced to run -until she thought she would collapse, with her legs, dragging like lead.</p> - -<p>She understood, now. Somehow she knew she was on Jupiter, the fifth -and largest planet, where the force of gravity is so much greater than -on Earth that it is an effort even to walk. She also knew that her -metabolic rate had been accelerated beyond all comprehension and that -in a comparatively short time—objective time—she would have thrice -her original strength. All this she knew without knowing how she knew, -and that was the most staggering fact of all. She did what her curt -instructors bid, then dragged her aching muscles and her headache into -a dining room where tired, forlorn-looking men sat around eating. Well -the food at least was good. Sophia attacked it ravenously.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It did not take Temple long to realize that the creature running -downhill at him, leaving a crushed and broken wake in the purple and -green grass, was not human. At first Temple toyed with the idea of a -man on horseback, for the creature ran on four limbs and had two left -over as arms. Temple gaped.</p> - -<p>The whole thing was one piece!</p> - -<p>Centaur?</p> - -<p>Hardly. Too small, for one thing. No bigger than a man, despite the -three pairs of limbs. And then Temple had time to gape no longer, for -the creature, whatever it was, flashed past him at what he now had to -consider a gallop.</p> - -<p>More followed. Different. Temple stared and stared. One could have been -a great, sentient hoop, rolling downhill and gathering momentum. If he -carried the wheel analogy further, a huge eye stared at him from where -the hub would have been. Something else followed with kangaroo leaps. -One thick-thewed leg propelled it in tremendous, fifteen-foot strides -while its small, flapper-like arms beat the air prodigiously.</p> - -<p>Legions of creatures. All fantastically different. <i>I'm going crazy</i>, -Temple thought, then said it aloud. "I'm going crazy."</p> - -<p>Theorizing thus, he heard a whir overhead, whirled, looked up. -Something was poised a dozen feet off the ground, a large, box-like -object seven or eight feet across, rotors spinning above it. That, at -least, he could understand. A helicopter.</p> - -<p>"I'm lowering a ladder, Kit. Swing aboard."</p> - -<p>Arkalion's voice.</p> - -<p>Stunned enough to accept anything he saw, Temple waited for the rope -ladder to drop, grasped its end, climbed. He swung his legs over a -sill, found himself in a neat little cabin with Arkalion, who hauled -the ladder in and did something to the controls. They sped away. -Temple had one quick moment of lucid thought before everything which -had happened in the last few moments shoved logic aside. What he had -observed looked for all the world like a foot-race.</p> - -<p>"Where the hell <i>are</i> we?" Temple demanded breathlessly.</p> - -<p>Arkalion smiled. "Where do you think? Journey's end. Welcome to -Nowhere, Kit. Welcome to the place where all your questions can be -answered because there's no going back. Sorry I set you down in that -field by mistake, incidentally. Those things sometimes happen."</p> - -<p>"Can I just throw the questions at you?"</p> - -<p>"If you wish. It isn't really necessary, for you will be indoctrinated -when we get you over to Earth city where you belong."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, there's no going back? I thought they had a rotation -system which for one reason or another wasn't practical at the moment. -That doesn't sound like no going back, ever."</p> - -<p>Arkalion grunted, shrugged. "Have it your way. I <i>know</i>."</p> - -<p>"Sorry. Shoot."</p> - -<p>"Just how far do you think you have come?"</p> - -<p>"Search me. Some other star system, maybe?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe. Clean across the galaxy, Kit."</p> - -<p>Temple whistled softly. "It isn't something you can grasp just by -hearing it. Across the galaxy...."</p> - -<p>"That isn't too important just now. How long did you think the journey -took?"</p> - -<p>Temple nodded eagerly. "That's what gets me. It was amazing, Alaric. -Really amazing. The whole trip couldn't have taken more than a moment -or two. I don't get it. Did we slip out of normal space into some -other—uh, continuum, and speed across the length of the galaxy like -that?"</p> - -<p>"The answer to your questions is yes. But your statement is way off. -The journey did not take seconds, Kit."</p> - -<p>"No? Instantaneous?"</p> - -<p>"Far more than seconds. To reach here from Earth you traveled five -thousand years."</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"More correctly, it was five thousand years ago that you left Mars. -You would need a time machine to return, and there is no such thing. -The Earth you know is the length of the galaxy and five thousand years -behind you."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> - - -<p>It could have been a city in New England, or maybe Wisconsin. Main -Street stretched for half a mile from Town Hall to the small department -store. Neon tubing brightened every store front, busy proprietors could -be seen at work through the large plate glass windows. There was the -bustle you might expect on any Main Street in New England or Wisconsin, -but you could not draw the parallel indefinitely.</p> - -<p>There were only men. No women.</p> - -<p>The hills in which the town nestled were too purple—not purple with -distance but the natural color of the grass.</p> - -<p>A somber red sun hung in the pale mauve sky.</p> - -<p>This was Earth City, Nowhere.</p> - -<p>Arkalion had deposited Temple in the nearby hills, promised they would -see one another again. "It may not be so soon," Arkalion had said, "but -what's the difference? You'll spend the rest of your life here. You -realize you are lucky, Kit. If you hadn't come, you would have been -dead these five thousand years. Well, good luck."</p> - -<p>Dead—five thousand years. The Earth as he knew it, dust. Stephanie, a -fifty generation corpse. Nowhere was right. End of the universe.</p> - -<p>Temple shuffled his feet, trudged on into town. A man passed him on the -street, stooped, gray-haired. The man nodded, did a mild double-take. -<i>I'm an unfamiliar face</i>, Temple thought.</p> - -<p>"Howdy," he said. "I'm new here."</p> - -<p>"That's what I thought, stranger. Know just about everyone in these -here parts, I do, and I said to myself, now there's a newcomer. Funny -you didn't come in the regular way."</p> - -<p>"I'm here," said Temple.</p> - -<p>"Yeah. Funny thing, you get to know everyone. Eh, what you say your -name was?"</p> - -<p>"Christopher Temple."</p> - -<p>"Make it my business to know everyone. The neighborly way, I always -say. Temple, eh? We have one here."</p> - -<p>"One what?"</p> - -<p>"Another fellow name of Temple. Jase Temple, son."</p> - -<p>"I'll be damned!" Temple cried, smiling suddenly. "I will be damned. -Tell me, old timer, where can I find him?"</p> - -<p>"Might be anyplace. Town's bigger'n it looks. I tell you, though, Jase -Temple's our co-ordinator. You'll find him there, the co-ordinator's -office. Town Hall, down the end of the street."</p> - -<p>"I already passed it," Temple told the man. "And thanks."</p> - -<p>Temple's legs carried him at a brisk pace, past the row of store fronts -and down to the Town Hall. He read a directory, climbed a flight of -stairs, found a door marked:</p> - -<p class="ph4">JASON TEMPLE<br /> -Earth City Co-ordinator.</p> - -<p>Heart pounding, Temple knocked, heard someone call, "Come in."</p> - -<p>He pushed the door in and stared at his brother, just rising to face -him.</p> - -<p>"Kit! Kit! What are you doing ... so you took the journey too!"</p> - -<p>Jason ran to him, clasped his shoulders, pounded them. "You sure are -looking fit. Kit, you could have knocked me over with half a feather, -coming in like that."</p> - -<p>"You're looking great too, Jase," Temple lied. He hadn't seen his -brother in five years, had never expected to see him again. But he -remembered a full-faced, smiling man somewhat taller than himself, -somewhat broader across the shoulders. The Jason he saw looked -forty-five or fifty but was hardly out of his twenties. He had fierce, -smouldering eyes, gaunt cheeks, graying hair. He seemed a bundle of -restless, nervous energy.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Kit. Start talking, kid brother. Start talking and don't -stop till next week. Tell me everything. Everything! Tell me about the -blue sky and the moon at night and the way the ocean looks on a windy -day and...."</p> - -<p>"Five years," said Temple. "Five years."</p> - -<p>"Five thousand, you mean," Jason reminded him. "It hardly seems -possible. How are the folks, Kit?"</p> - -<p>"Mom's fine. Pop too. He's sporting a new Chambers Converto. You should -see him, Jase. Sharp."</p> - -<p>"And Ann?" Jason looked at him hopefully. Ann had been Jason's -Stephanie—but for the Nowhere Journey they would have married.</p> - -<p>"Ann's married," Temple said.</p> - -<p>"Oh. Oh. That's swell, Kit. Really swell. I mean, what the hell, a girl -shouldn't wait forever. I told her not to, anyway."</p> - -<p>"She waited four years, then met a guy and—"</p> - -<p>"A nice guy?"</p> - -<p>"The best," said Temple. "You'd like him."</p> - -<p>Temple saw the vague hurt come to Jason's smouldering eyes. Then it -was the same. One part of Jason wanted her to remain his over an -unthinkable gap, another part wanted her to live a good, full life.</p> - -<p>"I'm glad," said Jason. "Can't expect a girl to wait without hope...."</p> - -<p>"Then there's no hope we'll ever get back?"</p> - -<p>Jason laughed harshly. "You tell me. Earth isn't merely sixty thousand -light years away. Kit, do you know what a light year is?"</p> - -<p>Temple said he thought he did.</p> - -<p>"Sixty thousand of them. A dozen eternities. But the Earth we know is -also dead. Dead five thousand years. The folks, Center City, Ann, her -husband—all dust. Five thousand years old.... Don't mind me, Kit."</p> - -<p>"Sure. Sure, I understand." But Temple didn't, not really. You -couldn't take five thousand years and chuck them out the window in -what seemed the space of a heart beat and then realize they were gone -permanently, forever. Not a period of time as long as all of recorded -civilization—you couldn't take it, tack it on after 1992 and accept -it. Somehow, Temple realized, the five thousand years were harder to -swallow than the sixty thousand light years.</p> - -<p>"Well," with a visible effort, Jason snapped out of his reverie. Temple -accepted a cigarette gratefully, his first in a long time. <i>In fifty -centuries</i>, he thought bitterly, burrowing deeper into a funk.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jason, "I'm acting like a prize boob. How selfish can I -get? There must be an awful lot you'd like to know, Kit."</p> - -<p>"That's all right. I was told I'd be indoctrinated."</p> - -<p>"Ordinarily, you would. But there's no shipment now, none for another -three months. Say, how the devil <i>did</i> you get here?"</p> - -<p>"That's a long story. Nowhere Journey, same as you, with a little -assist to speed things up on Mars. Jase, tell me this: what are we -doing here? What is everyone doing here? What's the Nowhere Journey all -about? What kind of a glorified foot-race did I see a while ago, with a -bunch of creatures out of the telio science-fiction shows?"</p> - -<p>Jason put his own cigarette out, changed his mind, lit another one. -"Sort of like the old joke, where does an alien go to register?"</p> - -<p>"Sort of."</p> - -<p>"It's a big universe," said Jason, evidently starting at the beginning -of something.</p> - -<p>"I'm just beginning to learn <i>how</i> big!"</p> - -<p>"It would be pretty unimaginative of mankind to consider itself the -only sentient form of life, Earth the only home of intelligence, both -from a scientific and a religious point of view. We kind of expected -to find—neighbors out in space. Kit, the sky is full of stars, most -stars have planets. The universe crawls with life, all sorts of life, -all sorts of intelligent life. In short, we are not alone. It would be -sort of like taking the jet-shuttle from Washington to New York during -the evening rush and expecting to be the only one aboard. In reality, -you're lucky to get breathing space.</p> - -<p>"There are biped intelligences, like humans. There are radial -intelligences, one-legged species, tall, gangling creatures, squat -ones, pancake ones, giants, dwarfs. There are green skins and pink -skins and coal black—and yes, no skins. There are ... but you get the -idea."</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh."</p> - -<p>"Strangely enough, most of these intelligences are on about the same -developmental level. It's as if the Creator turned everything on -at once, like a race, and said 'okay, guys get started.' Maybe it's -because, as scientists figure, the whole universe got wound up and -started working as a unit. I don't know. Anyway, that's the way it -is. All the intelligences worth talking about are on about the same -cultural level. Atomics, crude spaceflight, wars they can't handle.</p> - -<p>"And this is interesting, Kit. Most of 'em are bipedal. Not really -human, not fully human. You can see the difference. But seventy-five -percent of the races I've encountered have had basic similarities. -A case of the Creator trying to figure out the best of all possible -life-patterns and coming up with this one. Offers a wide range for -action, for adaptation, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm losing track of -things."</p> - -<p>"Take it easy. From what you tell me I have all the time in the world."</p> - -<p>"Well, I said all the races are developmentally parallel. That's almost -true. One of them is not. One of them is so far ahead that the rest of -us have hardly reached the crawling stage by comparison. One of them is -the Super Race, Kit.</p> - -<p>"Their culture is old, incredibly old. So old, in fact, that some of -us figure it's been hanging around since before the Universe took -shape. Maybe that's why all the others are on one level, a few thousand -million years behind the Super Race.</p> - -<p>"So, take this Super Race. For some reason we can't understand, it -seems to be on the skids. That's just figurative. Maybe it's dying out, -maybe it wants to pack up and leave the galaxy altogether, maybe it's -got other undreamed of business other undreamed of places. Anyway, it -wants out. But it's got an eon-old storehouse of culture and maybe -it figures someone ought to have access to that and keep the galaxy -in running order. But who? That's the problem. Who gets all this -information, a million million generations of scientific problems, all -carefully worked out? Who, among all the parallel races on all the -worlds of the Universe? That's quite a problem, even for our Super Race -boys.</p> - -<p>"You'd think they'd have ways to solve it, though. With calculating -machines or whatever will follow calculating machines after Earthmen -and all the others find the next faltering step after a few thousand -years. Or with plain horse sense and logic, developed to a point—after -millions of years at it—where it never fails. Or solve the problem -with something we've never heard of, but solve it anyway."</p> - -<p>"What's all this got to do with—? I mean, it's an interesting story -and when I get a chance to digest it I'll probably start gasping, but -what about Nowhere and...."</p> - -<p>"I'm coming to that. Kit, what would you say if I told you that the -most intelligent race the Universe has ever produced solves the biggest -problem ever handed anyone—by playing games?"</p> - -<p>"I'd say you better continue."</p> - -<p>"That's the purpose of Nowhere, Kit. Every planet, every race has its -Nowhere. We all come here and we play games. Planet with the highest -score at the end of God knows how long wins the Universe, with all the -science and the wisdom needed to fashion that universe into a dozen -different kinds of heaven. And to decide all this, we play games.</p> - -<p>"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not complaining. If the Superboys say we -play, then we play. I'd take their word for it if they told me I had -fifteen heads. But it's the sort of thing which doesn't let you get -much sleep. Oh, Earth has a right to be proud of its record. United -North America is in second place on a competition that's as wide as the -Universe. But we're not first. Second. And I have a hunch from what's -been going on around here that the games are drawing to a close.</p> - -<p>"Fantastic, isn't it? Out of thousands of entrants, we're good enough -to place second. But some planet out near the star Deneb has us -hopelessly outclassed. We might as well get the booby prize. They'll -win and own the Universe—us included."</p> - -<p>Jason had leaned forward as he spoke, and was sitting on the edge of -his chair now. The room was comfortably cool, but sweat beaded his -forehead, dripped from his chin.</p> - -<p>Temple lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply. "You said the United -States—North America—was second. I thought this was a planet-wide -competition, planet against planet."</p> - -<p>"Earth is the one exception I've been able to find. The Deneb planet -heads the list, then comes North America. After that, the planet of a -star I never heard of. In fourth place is the Soviet Union."</p> - -<p>"I'll be damned," said Temple. "Well, okay. Mind if I store that away -for future reference? I've got another question. What kind of—uh, -games do we play?"</p> - -<p>"You name it. Mental contests. Scientific problems to be worked out -with laboratories built to our specifications. Emotional problems -with scores of men driven neurotic or worse every year. Problems of -adaptability. Responses to environmental challenge. Stamina contests. -Tests of strength, of endurance. Tests to determine depths of emotion. -Tests to determine objectivity in what should be an objective -situation. But the way everything is organized it's almost like a -giant-sized, never ending Olympic Games, complete with some cockeyed -sports events too, by the way."</p> - -<p>"With all the pageantry, too?"</p> - -<p>"No. But that's another story."</p> - -<p>"Anyway, what I saw <i>was</i> a foot-race! And sorry, Jase, but I have -another question."</p> - -<p>Jason shrugged, spread his hands wide.</p> - -<p>"How come all this talk about rotation? It isn't possible, not with a -fifty century gap."</p> - -<p>"I know. They just let us in on that little deal a couple of years ago. -Till then, we didn't know. We thought it was distance only. In time, -after all this was over, we could go home. That's what we thought," -Jason said bitterly. "Actually, it's twice five thousand years. Five -to come here, five to return. Ten thousand years separate us from the -Earth we know, and even if we could go home, that wouldn't be going -home at all—to Earth ten thousand years in the future.</p> - -<p>"Oh, they had us hoodwinked. Afraid we might say no or something. They -never mentioned the length or duration of the trip. I don't understand -it, none of us do and we have some top scientists here. Something -to do with suspended animation, with contra-terrene matter, with -teleportation, something about latent extra-sensory powers in everyone, -about the ability to break down an object—or a creature or a man—to -its component atoms, to reverse—that's the word, reverse—those atoms -and send them spinning off into space as contra-terrene matter.</p> - -<p>"It all boils down to putting a man in a machine on Mars, pulling a -lever, materializing him here five thousand years later." Jason smiled -with only a trace of humor. "Any questions?"</p> - -<p>"About a thousand," said Temple. "I—"</p> - -<p>Something buzzed on Jason's desk and Temple watched him pick up a -microphone, say: "Co-ordinator speaking. What's up?"</p> - -<p>The voice which answered, clear enough to be in the room with them -and without the faintest trace of mechanical or electrical transfer, -spoke in a strange, liquid-syllabled language Temple had never heard. -Jason responded in the same language, with an apparent ease which -surprised Temple—until he remembered that his brother had always had a -knack of picking up foreign languages. Maybe that was why he held the -Co-ordinator's job—whatever it was he co-ordinated.</p> - -<p>There was fluency in the way Jason spoke, and alarm. The trouble-lines -etched deeply on his face stood out sharply, his eyes, if possible, -grew more intense. "Well," he said, putting the mike down and staring -at Temple without seeing him, "I'm afraid that does it."</p> - -<p>"What's the trouble?"</p> - -<p>"Everything."</p> - -<p>"Anything I can do?"</p> - -<p>"Item. The Superboys have discovered that Earth has two contingents -here—us and the Soviets. They're mad. Item. Something will be done -about it. Item. Soviet Russia has made a suggestion, or that is, its -people here. They will put forth a champion to match one of our own -choosing in the toughest grind of all, something to do with responding -to environmental challenge, which doesn't mean a hell of a lot unless -you happen to know something about it. Shall I go on?"</p> - -<p>And, when Temple nodded avidly. "We automatically lose by default. One -of the rules of that particular game is that the contestant must be a -newcomer. It's the sort of game you have to know nothing about, and -incidentally, it's also the sort of game a man can get killed at. Well, -the Soviets have a whole contingent of newcomers to pick from. We don't -have any. As the Superboys see it, that's our own tough luck. We lose -by default."</p> - -<p>"It seems to me—"</p> - -<p>"How can anything 'seem to you?' You're new here.... I'm sorry Kit. -What were you saying?"</p> - -<p>"No. Go ahead."</p> - -<p>"That's only the half of it. Right after Russia takes our place and -we're scratched off the list, the games go into their final phase. That -was the rumor all along, and it's just been confirmed. Interesting to -see what they do with all the contestants <i>after</i> the games are over, -after there's no more Nowhere Journey."</p> - -<p>"We could go back where we came from."</p> - -<p>"Ten thousand years in the future?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not afraid."</p> - -<p>"Well, anyway, the Soviets put up a man, we can't match him. So it -looks like the U.S.S.R. represents Earth officially. Not that it -matters. We hardly have the chance of a very slushy snowball in a very -hot hell. But still—"</p> - -<p>"Our contestant, this guy who meets the Russians' challenge, has to be -a newcomer?"</p> - -<p>"That's what I said. Well, we can close up shop, I guess."</p> - -<p>"You made a mistake. You said no newcomers have arrived. I'm here, -Jase. I'm your man. Bring on your Russian Bear." Temple smiled grimly.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> - - -<p>"You got to hand it to Temple's kid brother."</p> - -<p>"Yeah. Cool as ice cubes."</p> - -<p>"Are you guys kidding? He doesn't know what's in store for him, that's -all."</p> - -<p>"Do <i>you</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Now that you mention it, no. Isn't a man here who can say for sure -what kind of environmental challenges he'll have to respond to. -Hypno-surgery sees to it the guys who went through the thing won't talk -about it. As if that isn't security enough, the subject's got to be a -brand new arrival!"</p> - -<p>"Shh! Here he comes."</p> - -<p>The brothers Temple entered Earth City's one tavern quietly, but on -their arrival all the speculative talk subsided. The long bar, built to -accommodate half a hundred pairs of elbows comfortably, gleamed with -a luster unfamiliar to Temple. It might have been marble, but marble -translucent rather than opaque, giving a beautiful three-dimensional -effect to the surface patterns.</p> - -<p>"What will it be?" Jason demanded.</p> - -<p>"Whatever you're drinking is fine."</p> - -<p>Jason ordered two scotches, neat, and the brothers drank. When Jason -got a refill he started talking. "Does T.A.T. mean anything to you, -Kit?"</p> - -<p>"Tat? Umm—no. Wait a minute! T.A.T. Isn't that some kind of protective -psychological test?"</p> - -<p>"That's it. You're shown a couple of dozen pictures, more or less -ambiguous, never cut and dry. Each one comes from a different stratum -of the social environment, and you're told to create a dramatic -situation, a story, for each picture. From your stories, for which you -draw on your whole background as a human being, the psychometrician -should be able to build a picture of your personality and maybe find -out what, if anything, is bothering you."</p> - -<p>"What's that to do with this response to environmental challenge thing?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jason, drinking a third scotch, "the Super Boys have -evolved T.A.T. to its ultimate. T.A.T.—that stands for Thematic -Apperception Test. But in E.C.R.—environmental challenge and response, -you don't see a picture and create a dramatic story around it. Instead, -you get thrust into the picture, the situation, and you have to work -out the solution—or suffer whatever consequences the particular -environmental challenge has in store for you."</p> - -<p>"I think I get you. But it's all make believe, huh?"</p> - -<p>"That's the hell of it," Jason told him. "No, it's not. It is and it -isn't. I don't know."</p> - -<p>"You make it perfectly clear," Temple smiled. "The red-headed boy -combed his brown hair, wishing it weren't blond."</p> - -<p>Jason shrugged. "I'm sorry. For reasons you already know, the E.C.R. -isn't very clear to me—or to anyone. You're not actually in the -situation in a physical sense, but it can affect you physically. You -<i>feel</i> you're there, you actually live everything that happens to you, -getting injured if an injury occurs ... and dying if you get killed. -It's permanent, although you might actually be sleeping at the time. So -whether it's real or not is a question for philosophy. From your point -of view, from the point of view of someone going through it, it's real."</p> - -<p>"So I become part of this—uh, game in about an hour."</p> - -<p>"Right. You and whoever the Russians offer as your competition. No one -will blame you if you want to back out, Kit; from what you tell me, you -haven't even been adequately trained on Mars."</p> - -<p>"If you draw on the entire background of your life for this E.C.R., -then you don't need training. Shut up and stop worrying. I'm not -backing out of anything."</p> - -<p>"I didn't think you would, not if you're still as much like your old -man as you used to be. Kit ... good luck."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The fact that the technicians working around him were Earthmen -permitted Temple to relax a little. Probably, it was planned that way, -for entering the huge white cube of a building and ascending to the -twelfth level on a moving ramp Temple had spotted many figures, not -all of them human. If he had been strapped to the table by unfamiliar -aliens, if the scent of alien flesh—or non-flesh—had been strong in -the room, if the fingers—or appendages—which greased his temples -and clamped an electrode to each one had not felt like human fingers, -if the men talking to him had spoken in voices too harsh or too -sibilant for human vocal chords—if all that had been the case whatever -composure still remained his would have vanished.</p> - -<p>"I'm Dr. Olson," said one white-gowned figure. "If any injuries occur -while you lie here, I'm permitted to render first aid."</p> - -<p>"The same for limited psychotherapy," said a shorter, heavier man. -"Though a fat lot of good it does when we never know what's bothering -you, and don't have the time to work on it even if we did know."</p> - -<p>"In short," said a third man who failed to identify himself, "you may -consider yourself as the driver of one of those midget rocket racers. -Do they still have them on Earth? Good. You are the driver, and we here -in this room are the mechanics waiting in your pit. If anything goes -wrong, you can pull out of the race temporarily and have it repaired. -But in this particular race there is no pulling out: all repairs are -strictly of a first-aid nature and must be done while you continue -whatever you are doing. If you break your finger and find a splint -appearing on it miraculously, don't say you weren't warned."</p> - -<p>"Best of luck to you, young man," said the psychotherapist.</p> - -<p>"Here we go," said the doctor, finding the large vein on the inside of -Temple's forearm and plunging a needle into it.</p> - -<p>Temple's senses whirled instantly, but as his vision clouded he thought -he saw a large, complex device swing down from the ceiling and bathe -his head in warming radiation. He blinked, squinted, could see nothing -but a swirling, cloudy opacity.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Approximately two seconds later, Sophia Androvna Petrovitch watched as -the white-gowned comrade tied a rubber strap around her arm, waited for -the vein to swell with blood, then forced a needle in through its thick -outer layer. Was that a nozzle overhead? No, rather a lens, for from -it came amber warmth ... which soon faded, with everything else, into -thick, churning fog....</p> - -<p>Temple was abruptly aware of running, plunging headlong and blindly -through the fiercest storm he had ever seen. Gusts of wind whipped -at him furiously. Rain cascaded down in drenching torrents. Foliage, -brambles, branches struck against his face; mud sucked at his feet. Big -animal shapes lumbered by in the green gloom, as frightened by the -storm as was Temple.</p> - -<p>His head darted this way and that, his eyes could see the gnarled -tree trunks, the dense greenery, the lianas, creepers and vines of -a tropical rain forest—but dimly. Green murk swirled in like thick -smoke with every gust of wind, with the rain obscuring vision almost -completely.</p> - -<p>Temple ran until his lungs burned and he thought he must exhale fire. -His leaden feet fought the mud with growing difficulty for every stride -he took. He ran wildly and in no set direction, convinced only that he -must find shelter or perish. Twice he crashed bodily into trees, twice -stumbled to his knees only to pull himself upright again, sucking air -painfully into his lungs and cutting out in a fresh direction.</p> - -<p>He ran until his legs balked. He fell, collapsing first at the knees, -then the waist, then flopping face down in the mud. Something prodded -his back as he fell and reaching behind him weakly Temple was aware for -the first time that a bow and a quiver of arrows hung suspended from -his shoulders by a strong leather thong. He wore nothing but a loin -cloth of some nameless animal skin and he wondered idly if he had slain -the animal with the weapon he carried. Yet when he tried to recollect -he found he could not. He remembered nothing but his frantic flight -through the rain forest, as if all his life he had run in a futile -attempt to leave the rain behind him.</p> - -<p>Now as he lay there, the mud sucking at his legs, his chest, his -armpits, he could not even remember his name. Did he have one? Did he -have a life before the rain forest? Then why did he forget?</p> - -<p>A sense not fully developed in man and called intuition by those who -fail to understand it made him prop his head up on his hands and squint -through the downpour. There was something off there in the foliage ... -someone....</p> - -<p>A woman.</p> - -<p>Temple's breath caught in his throat sharply. The woman stood half a -dozen paces off, observing him coolly with hands on flanks. She stood -tall and straight despite the storm and from trim ankles to long, lithe -legs to flaring loin-clothed hips, to supple waist and tawny skin of -fine bare breasts and shoulders, to proud, haughty face and long dark -hair loose in the storm and glistening with rain, she was magnificent. -Her long, bronzed body gleamed with wetness and Temple realized she was -tall as he, a wild beautiful goddess of the jungle. She was part of -the storm and he accepted her—but strangely, with the same fear the -storm evoked. She would make a lover the whole world might relish (what -world, Temple thought in confusion?) but she would make a terrible foe.</p> - -<p>And foe she was....</p> - -<p>"I want your bow and arrows," she told him.</p> - -<p>Temple wanted to suggest they share the weapon, but somehow he knew in -this world which was like a dream and could tell him things the way -a dream would and yet was vividly real, that the woman would share -nothing with anybody.</p> - -<p>"They are mine," Temple said, climbing to his knees. He remembered the -animal-shapes lumbering by in the storm and he knew that he and the -animals would both stalk prey when the storm subsided and he would need -the bow and arrows.</p> - -<p>The woman moved toward him with a liquid motion beautiful to behold, -and for the space of a heartbeat Temple watched her come. "I will take -them," she said.</p> - -<p>Temple wasn't sure if she could or not, and although she was a woman he -feared her strangely. Again, it was as if something in this dream-world -real-world could tell him more than he should know.</p> - -<p>Making up his mind, Temple sprang to his feet, whirled about and ran. -He was plunging through the wild storm once more, blinded by the -occasional flashes of jagged green lightning, deafened by the peals of -thunder which followed. And he was being pursued.</p> - -<p>Minutes, hours, more than hours—for an eternity Temple ran. A -reservoir of strength he never knew he possessed provided the energy -for each painful step and running through the storm seemed the most -natural thing in the world to him. But there came a time when his -strength failed, not slowly, but with shocking suddenness. Temple fell, -crawled a ways, was still.</p> - -<p>It took him minutes to realize the storm no longer buffeted him, more -minutes to learn he had managed to crawl into a cave. He had no time to -congratulate himself on his good fortune, for something stirred outside.</p> - -<p>"I am coming in," the woman called to him from the green murk.</p> - -<p>Temple strung an arrow to his bow, pulled the string back and faced the -cave's entrance squatting on his heels. "Then your first step shall be -your last. I'll shoot to kill." And he meant it.</p> - -<p>Silence from outside. Deafening.</p> - -<p>Temple felt sweat streaming under his armpits; his hands were clammy, -his hands trembled.</p> - -<p>"You haven't seen the last of me," the woman promised. After that, -Temple knew she was gone. He slept as one dead.</p> - -<p>When Temple awoke, bright sunlight filtered in through the foliage -outside his cave. Although the ground was a muddy ruin, the storm had -stopped. Edging to the mouth of the cave, Temple spread the foliage -with his hands, peered cautiously outside. Satisfied, he took his bow -and arrows and left the cave, pangs of hunger knotting his stomach -painfully.</p> - -<p>The cave had been weathered in the side of a short, steep abutment a -dozen paces from a gushing, swollen stream. Temple followed the course -of the stream as it twisted through the jungle, ranging half a mile -from his cave until the water course widened to form a water-hole. All -morning Temple waited there, crouching in the grass, until one by one, -the forest animals came to drink. He selected a small hare-like thing, -notched an arrow to his bow, let it fly.</p> - -<p>The animal jumped, collapsed, began to slink away into the undergrowth, -dragging the arrow from its hindquarters. Temple darted after it, -caught it in his hands and bashed its life out against the bole of a -tree. Returning to his cave he found two flinty stones, shredded a -fallen branch and nursed the shards dry in the strong sunlight. Soon he -made a fire and ate.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the days which followed, Temple returned to the water-hole and -bagged a new catch every time he ventured forth. Things went so well -that he began to range further and further from his cave exploring. -Once however, he returned early to the water-hole and found footprints -in the soft mud of its banks.</p> - -<p>The woman.</p> - -<p>That she had been observing him while he had hunted had never occurred -to Temple, but now that the proof lay clearly before his eyes, the -old feeling of uncertainty came back. And the next day, when he crept -stealthily to the water-hole and saw the woman squatting there in the -brush, waiting for him, he fled back to his cave.</p> - -<p>The thought hit him suddenly. If she were stalking him, why must he -flee as from his own shadow? There would be no security for either of -them until either one or the other were gone—and gone meant dead. Then -Temple would do his own stalking.</p> - -<p>For several nights Temple hardly slept. He could have found the -water-hole blindfolded merely by following the stream. Each night he -would reach the hole and work, digging with a sharp stone, until he -had fashioned a pit fully ten feet deep and six feet across. This he -covered with branches, twigs, leaves and finally dirt.</p> - -<p>When he returned in the morning he was satisfied with his work. Unless -the woman made a careful study of the area, she would never see the -pit. All that day Temple waited with his back to the water-hole, facing -the camouflaged pit, the trap he had set, but the woman failed to -appear. When she also did not come on the second day, he began to think -his plan would not work.</p> - -<p>The third day, Temple arrived with the sun, sat as before in the tall -grass between the pit and the water-hole and waited. Several paces -beyond his hidden trap he could see the tall trees of the jungle with -vines and creepers hanging from their branches. At his back, a man's -length behind him was the water-hole, its deepest waters no more than -waist-high.</p> - -<p>Temple waited until the sun stood high in the sky, then was fascinated -as a small antelope minced down to the water-hole for a drink. <i>You'll -make a fine breakfast tomorrow, he thought, smiling.</i></p> - -<p>Something, that strange sixth sense again, made Temple turn around and -stand up. He had time for a brief look, a hoarse cry.</p> - -<p>The woman had been the cleverer. She had set the final trap. She stood -high up on a branch of one of the trees beyond the hidden pit and -for an instant Temple saw her fine figure clearly, naked but for the -loincloth. Then the soft curves became spring-steel.</p> - -<p>The woman arched her body there on the high branch, grasping a stout -vine and rocking back with it. Temple raised his bow, set an arrow to -let it fly. But by then, the woman was in motion.</p> - -<p>Long and lithe and graceful, she swung down on her vine, gathering -momentum as she came. Her feet almost brushed the lip of Temple's pit -at the lowest arc of her flight, but she clung to the vine and it began -to swing up again like a pendulum—toward Temple.</p> - -<p>At the last moment he hunched his shoulder and tried to raise his arms -for protection. The woman was quicker. She gathered her legs up under -her, still clutching the vine with her slim, strong hands. The vine's -arc carried her up at him; her knees were at a level with his head and -she brought them up savagely, close together striking Temple brutally -at the base of his jaw. Temple screamed as his head was jerked back -with terrible force.</p> - -<p>The bow flew from his fingers and he fell into the water-hole, flat on -his back.</p> - -<p>Sophia let the vine carry her out over the water, then dropped from it. -Waist deep, she waded to where the man lay, unconscious on his back, -half in, half out of the shallowest part of the water. She reached him, -prodded his chest with her foot. When he did not stir, she rocked her -weight down gracefully on her long leg, forcing his head under water. -With a haughty smile, she watched the bubbles rise....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the small room where Temple's body lay in repose on a table the -white-smocked doctor looked at the psychotherapist questioningly. -"What's happening?"</p> - -<p>"Can't tell, doctor. But—"</p> - -<p>Suddenly Temple's still body rocked convulsively, his neck stretched, -his head shot up and back. Blood trickled from his mouth.</p> - -<p>The doctor thrust out expert hands, examined Temple's jaw dexterously.</p> - -<p>"Broken?" the psychotherapist demanded in a worried voice.</p> - -<p>"No. Dislocated. He looks like he's been hit by a sledge hammer, -wherever he is now, whatever's happening. This E.C.R. is the damndest -thing."</p> - -<p>Temple's still form shuddered convulsively. He began to gasp and cough, -obviously fighting for breath. An ugly blue swelling had by now lumped -the base of his jaw.</p> - -<p>"What's happening?" demanded the psychotherapist.</p> - -<p>"I can't be sure," said the doctor, shaking his head. "He seems to have -difficulty in breathing ... it's as if he were—drowning."</p> - -<p>"Bad. Anything we can do?"</p> - -<p>"No. We wait until this particular sequence ends." The doctor -examined Temple again. "If it doesn't end soon, this man will die of -asphyxiation."</p> - -<p>"Call it off," the psychotherapist pleaded. "If he dies now Earth will -be represented by Russia. Call it off!"</p> - -<p>Someone entered the room. "<i>I</i> have the authority," he said, selecting -a hypodermic from the doctor's rack and piercing the skin of Temple's -forearm with it. "This first test has gone far enough. The Russian -entry is clearly the winner, but Temple must live if he is to compete -in another."</p> - -<p>The racking convulsions which shook Temple's body subsided. He ceased -his choking, began to breathe regularly. With grim swiftness, the -doctor went to work on Temple's dislocated jaw while the man who had -stopped the contest rendered artificial respiration.</p> - -<p>The man was Alaric Arkalion.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Comrade Doctor was exultant. "Jupiter training, comrade, has given -us a victory."</p> - -<p>"How can you be sure?"</p> - -<p>"Our entrant is unharmed, the contest has been called. Wait ... she is -coming to."</p> - -<p>Sophia stretched, rubbed her bruised knees, sat up.</p> - -<p>"What happened, Comrade?" the doctor demanded.</p> - -<p>"My knees ache," said Sophia, rubbing them some more. "I—I killed -him, I think. Strange, I never dreamed it would be that real."</p> - -<p>"In a sense, it <i>was</i> real. If you killed the American, he will stay -dead."</p> - -<p>"Nothing mattered but that world we were in, a fantastic place. Now I -remember everything, all the things I couldn't remember then."</p> - -<p>"But your—ah, dream—what happened?"</p> - -<p>Sophia rubbed her bruised knees a third time, ruefully. "I knocked him -unconscious with these. I forced his head under water and drowned him. -But—before I could be sure I finished the job—I came back.... Funny -that I should want to kill him without compunction, without reason." -Sophia frowned, sat up. "I don't think I want anymore of this."</p> - -<p>The doctor surveyed her coldly. "This is your task on the Stalintrek. -This you will do."</p> - -<p>"I killed him without a thought."</p> - -<p>"Enough. You will rest and get ready for the second contest."</p> - -<p>"But if he's dead—"</p> - -<p>"Apparently he's not, or we would have been informed, Comrade -Petrovitch."</p> - -<p>"That is true," agreed the second man, who had remained silent until -now. "Prepare for another test, Comrade."</p> - -<p>Sophia was on the point of arguing again. After all it wasn't fair. If -in the dream-worlds which were not dream worlds she was motivated by -but one factor and that to destroy the American and if she faced him -with the strength of her Jupiter training it would hardly be a contest. -And now that she could think of the American without the all-consuming -hatred the dream world had fostered in her, she realized he had been a -pleasant-looking young man, quite personable, in fact. <i>I could like -him</i>, Sophia thought and hoped fervently she had not drowned him. -Still, if she had volunteered for the Stalintrek and this was the job -they assigned her....</p> - -<p>"I need no rest," she told the doctor, hardly trusting herself, for she -realized she might change her mind. "I am ready any time you are."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> - - -<p>His name was Temple and it was the year 1960.</p> - -<p>Christopher Temple had problems. He had his own life, too, which had -nothing to do with the life of the real Christopher Temple, departed -thirty-odd years later on the Nowhere Journey. Or rather, this <i>was</i> -Christopher Temple, living his second E.C.R.... Temple who had lost -once, and who, if he lost again, would take the dreams and hopes of -the Western world down into the dust of defeat with him. But as the -fictional (although in a certain sense, real) Christopher Temple of -1960, he knew nothing of this.</p> - -<p>The world could go to pot. The world was going to pot, anyway. Temple -shuddered as he poured a fourth Canadian, downing it in a tasteless, -burning gulp. Temple was a thermo-nuclear engineer with government -subsidized degrees from three universities including the fine new one -at Desert Rock. Temple was a thermo-nuclear engineer with top-secret -government clearance. Temple was a thermo-nuclear engineer with more -military secrets buzzing around inside his head than in a warehouse of -burned Pentagon files.</p> - -<p>Temple was also a thermo-nuclear engineer whose wife spied for the -Russians.</p> - -<p>He'd found out quite by accident, not meaning to eavesdrop at all. -Returning home early one afternoon because the production engineer -called a halt while further research was done on certain unstable -isotopes, Temple was surprised to find his wife had a gentleman -caller. He heard their voices clearly from where he stood out in the -sun-parlor, and for a ridiculous instant he was torn between slinking -upstairs and ignoring them altogether or barging into the living room -like a high school boy flushed with jealousy. The mature thing to do, -of course, was neither, and Temple was on the point of walking politely -into the living room, saying hello and waiting for an introduction, -when snatches of the conversation stopped him cold.</p> - -<p>"Silly Charles! Kit doesn't suspect a thing. I would <i>know</i>."</p> - -<p>"How can you be sure?"</p> - -<p>"Intuition."</p> - -<p>"On a framework of intuition you would place the fate of Red Empire?"</p> - -<p>"Empire, Charles?" Temple could picture Lucy's raised eyebrow. He -listened now, hardly breathing. For one wild moment he thought he -would retreat upstairs and forget the whole thing. Life would be much -simpler that way. A meaningless surrender to unreality, however, and it -couldn't be done.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Empire. Oh, not the land-grabbing, slave-dominating sort of -things the Imperialists used to attempt, but a more subtle and hence -more enduring empire. Let the world call us Liberator, we shall have -Empire."</p> - -<p>Lucy laughed, a sound which Temple loved. "You may keep your ideology, -Charles. Play with it, bathe in it, get drunk on it or drown yourself -in it. I want my money."</p> - -<p>"You are frank."</p> - -<p>Temple could picture Lucy's shrug. "I am a paid, professional spy. By -now you have most of the information you need. I shall have the rest -tonight."</p> - -<p>"I'll see you in hell first!" Temple cried in rage, stalking into the -room and almost smiling in spite of the situation when he realized how -melodramatic his words must sound.</p> - -<p>"Kit! Kit...." Lucy raised hand to mouth, then backed away flinching as -if she had been struck.</p> - -<p>"Yeah, Kit. A political cuckold, or does Charles get other services -from you as well?"</p> - -<p>"Kit, you don't...."</p> - -<p>The man named Charles motioned for silence. Dapper, clean-cut, -good-looking except for a surly, pouting mouth, he was a head shorter -than either Temple or Lucy. "Don't waste your words, Sophia. Temple -overheard us."</p> - -<p><i>Sophia?</i> thought Temple. "Sophia?" he said.</p> - -<p>Charles nodded coolly. "The real Mrs. Temple was observed, studied, -her every habit and whim catalogued by experts. A plastic surgeon, a -psychologist, a sociologist, a linguist, a whole battery of experts -molded Sophia here into a new Mrs. Temple. I must congratulate them, -for you never suspected."</p> - -<p>"Lucy?" Temple demanded dully. Reason stood suspended in a limbo of -objective acceptance and subjective disbelief.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Temple was eliminated. Regrettable because we don't deal in -senseless mayhem, but necessary."</p> - -<p>Temple was not aware of leaving limbo until he felt the bruising -contact of his knuckles with Charles' jaw. The short man toppled, fell -at his feet. "Get up!" Temple cried, then changed his mind and tensed -himself to leap upon the prone figure.</p> - -<p>"Hold it," Charles told him quietly, wiping blood from his lips with -one hand, drawing an automatic from his pocket with the other. "You'd -better freeze, Temple. You die if you don't."</p> - -<p>Temple froze, watched Charles slither away across the high-piled green -carpet until, safely away across the room, he came upright groggily. He -turned to the dead Lucy's double. "What do you think, Sophia?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. We could get out of here, probably get along without the -final information."</p> - -<p>"That isn't what I mean. Naturally, we'll never receive the final -facts. I mean, what do you think about Temple?"</p> - -<p>Sophia said she didn't know.</p> - -<p>"Left alone, he would go to the police. Kidnapped, he would be worse -than useless. Harmful, actually, for the authorities would suspect -something. Even worse if we killed him. The point is, we don't want the -authorities to think Temple gave information to anybody."</p> - -<p>"Gave is hardly the word," said Sophia. "I was a good wife, but also a -good gleaner. One hundred thousand dollars, Charles."</p> - -<p>"You bitch," Temple said.</p> - -<p>"Later," Charles told the woman. "The solution is this, Sophia: we must -kill Temple, but it must look like suicide."</p> - -<p>Sophia frowned in pretty concern. "Do we have to ... kill him?"</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, my dear? Have you been playing the wifely role too -long? If Temple stands in the way of Red Empire, Temple must die."</p> - -<p>Temple edged forward.</p> - -<p>"Uh-uh," said Charles, "mustn't." He waved the automatic and Temple -subsided.</p> - -<p>"Is that right?" Sophia demanded. "Well, you listen to me. I have -nothing to do with your Red Empire. I fled the Iron Curtain, came here -to live voluntarily—"</p> - -<p>"Do you really think it was on a voluntary basis that you went? We -allowed you to go, Sophia. We encouraged it. That way, the job of our -technicians was all the simpler. Whether you like it or not, you have -been a cog in the machine of Red Empire."</p> - -<p>"I still don't see why he has to die."</p> - -<p>"Leave thinking to those who can. You have a smile, a body, a certain -way with men. I will think. I think that Temple should die."</p> - -<p>"I don't," Sophia said.</p> - -<p>"We're delaying needlessly. The man dies." And Charles raised his -automatic, sufficiently irked to forget his suicide plan.</p> - -<p>A gap of eight or nine feet separated the two men. It might as well -have been infinity—and it would be soon, for Temple. He saw Charles' -small hand tighten about the automatic, saw the trigger finger grow -white. The weapon pointed at a spot just above his navel and briefly he -found himself wondering what it would feel like for a slug to rip into -his stomach, burning a path back to his spine. He decided to make the -gesture at least, if he could do no more. He would jump for Charles.</p> - -<p>Sophia beat him to it—and because Lucy was dead and Sophia looked -exactly like her and Temple could not quite accept the fact, it seemed -the most natural thing in the world. Cat-quick, Sophia leaped upon -Charles' back and they went down together in a twisting, thrashing -tangle of arms and legs.</p> - -<p>Temple did not wait for an invitation. He launched himself down after -them, and then things began to happen ... fast.</p> - -<p>Sophia rolled clear, rose to her hands and knees, panting. Charles sat -up cursing, nursing a badly scratched face. Temple hurtled at him, -stretched him on his back again, began to pound hard fists into his -face.</p> - -<p>Charles did not have the automatic. Neither did Temple.</p> - -<p>Something exploded against the back of Temple's head violently, -throwing him off Charles and tumbling him over. Dimly he saw Sophia -following through, the automatic in her hand, butt foremost. Temple's -senses reeled. He tried to rise, succeeded only in a kind of shuddering -slither before he subsided. He wavered between consciousness and -unconsciousness, heard as in a dream snatches of conversation.</p> - -<p>"Shoot him ... shoot him!"</p> - -<p>"Shut up ... I have ... gun ... go to hell."</p> - -<p>"... kill ... only way."</p> - -<p>"My way is different ... out of here ... discuss later."</p> - -<p>"... feel ..."</p> - -<p>"I said ... out of here...."</p> - -<p>The voices became a meaningless liquid torrent cascading into a black -pit.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Now Temple sat with a water-glass a third full of Canadian in his hand, -every once in a while reaching up gingerly to explore the bruised -swelling on his head, the blood-matted hair which covered it. To be -a cuckold was one thing, but to be the naive, political pawn sort of -cuckold who is not a cuckold at all, he told himself, is far worse. To -live with his woman, eat the meals she cooked for him, talk to her, -think she understood him, sympathize with him, to make love to her with -passion while she responds with play-acting for a hundred thousand -dollar salary was suddenly the most emasculating thing in the world -for Temple. He had not thought to ask how long it had been going on. -Better, perhaps, if he never knew. And somewhere lost in the maze of -his thoughts was the grimmest, bleakest reality of them all: Lucy was -dead. Lucy—dead. But where did Lucy leave off, where did Sophia begin? -Was Lucy dead that night they returned more than a little drunk from -the Chamber's party, that night they danced in the living room until -dawn obscured the stars and he carried Lucy upstairs. Lucy or Sophia? -And the day they motored to the lake, their secret lake, hardly more -than a dammed, widened stream and dreamed of the things they could -do when the Cold War ended? Lucy—or Sophia? Had he ever noticed a -difference in the way Lucy-Sophia cooked, in the way she spoke, the -way she let him make love to her? He thought himself into a man-sized -headache and found no answers. This way at least the loss of his wife -was not as traumatic as it might have been. He knew not when she died -or how and, in fact, Lucy-Sophia seemed so much like the real thing -that he did not know where he could stop loving and start hating.</p> - -<p>And the girl, the Russian girl, had saved his life. Why? He couldn't -answer that one either, unless if it were as Charles suggested: Sophia -had studied Lucy so carefully, had learned her likes and dislikes, -her wants and desires, had memorized and practised every quirk of her -character to such an extent that Sophia was Lucy in essence.</p> - -<p>Which, Temple thought, would make it all the harder to seek out Sophia -and kill her.</p> - -<p>That was the answer, the only answer. Temple felt a dull ache where -his heart should have been, a pressure, a pounding, an unpleasant, -unfamiliar lack of feeling. If he took his story to the F.B.I. he -had no doubt that Charles, Sophia and whoever else worked this thing -with them would be caught, but he, Temple, would find himself with a -lifelong, unslakable emotional thirst. He had to quench it now and then -feel sorry so that he might heal. He had to quench it with Sophia's -blood ... alone.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He found her a week later at their lake. He had looked everywhere and -had about given up, almost, in fact, ready to turn his story over to -the police. But he had to think and their lake was the place for that.</p> - -<p>Apparently Sophia had the same idea. Temple parked on the highway half -a mile from their lake, made his way slowly through the woods, golden -dappled with sunlight. He heard the waters gushing merrily, heard the -sounds of some small animal rushing off through the woods. He saw -Sophia.</p> - -<p>She lay on their sunning rock in shorts and halter, completely relaxed, -an opened magazine face down on the rock beside her, a pair of -sunglasses next to it. She had one knee up, one leg stretched out, one -forearm shielding her eyes from the sun, one arm down at her side. -Seeing her thus, Temple felt the pressure of his automatic in its -holster under his arm. He could draw it out, kill her before she was -aware of his presence. Would that make him feel better? Five minutes -ago, he would have said yes. Now he hesitated. Kill her, who seemed as -completely Lucy as he was Temple? Send a bullet ripping through the -body which he had known and loved, or the body that had seemed so much -like it he had failed to tell the difference?</p> - -<p>Murder—Lucy?</p> - -<p>"No," he said aloud. "Her name is Sophia."</p> - -<p>The girl sat up, startled. "Kit," she said.</p> - -<p>"Lucy."</p> - -<p>"You can't make up your mind, either." She smiled just like Lucy.</p> - -<p>Dumbly, he sat down next to her on the rock. Strong sunlight had -brought a fine dew of perspiration to the bronzed skin of her face. She -got a pack of cigarettes out from under the magazine, lit one, offered -it to Temple, lit another and smoked it. "Where do we go from here?" -she wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"I—"</p> - -<p>"You came to kill me, didn't you? Is that the only way you can ever -feel better, Kit?"</p> - -<p>"I—" He was going to deny it, then think.</p> - -<p>"Don't deny it. Please." She reached in under his jacket, withdrawing -her hand with the snub-nosed automatic in it. "Here," she said, giving -it to him.</p> - -<p>He took the gun, hefted it, let it fall, clattering, on the rock.</p> - -<p>"Listen," she said. "I could have told you I was Lucy. If I said now -that I am Lucy and if I kept on saying it, you'd believe me. You'd -believe me because you'd want to."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Temple.</p> - -<p>"I am not Lucy. Lucy is dead. But ... but I was Lucy in everything -but being Lucy. I thought her thoughts, dreamed her dreams, loved her -loves."</p> - -<p>"You killed her."</p> - -<p>"No. I had nothing to do with that. She was killed, yes. Not by me. -Kit, if I asked you when Lucy stopped, and ... when I began, could you -tell me?"</p> - -<p>He had often thought about that. "No," he said truthfully. "You're as -much my wife as—she was."</p> - -<p>She clutched at his hand impulsively. Then, when he failed to respond, -she withdrew her own hand. "Then—then I <i>am</i> Lucy. If I am Lucy in -every way, Lucy never died."</p> - -<p>"You betrayed me. You stood by while murder was committed. You are -guilty of espionage."</p> - -<p>"Lucy loved you. I am Lucy...."</p> - -<p>"... Betrayed me...."</p> - -<p>"For a hundred thousand dollars. For the chance to live a normal life, -for the chance to forget Leningrad in the wintertime, watery potato -soup, rags for clothing, swaggering commissars, poverty, disease. Do -you think I realized I could fall in love with you so completely? If I -did, don't you think that would have changed things? I am not Sophia, -Kit. I was, but I am not. They made me Lucy. Lucy can't be dead, not if -I am she in every way."</p> - -<p>"What can we do?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I only want to be your wife...."</p> - -<p>"Well, then tell me," he said bitterly. "Shall I go back to the plant -and continue working, knowing all the time that our most closely -guarded secret is in Russian hands and that my wife is responsible?" He -laughed. "Shall I do that?"</p> - -<p>"Your secrets never went anywhere."</p> - -<p>"Shall I ... <i>what?</i>"</p> - -<p>"Your secrets never went anywhere. Charles is dead. I have destroyed -all that we took. I am not Russian any longer. American. They made me -American. They made me Lucy. I want to go right on being Lucy, your -wife."</p> - -<p>Temple said nothing for a long time. He realized now he could not kill -her. But everything else she suggested.... "Tell me," he said. "Tell -me, how long have you been Lucy? You've got to tell me that."</p> - -<p>"How long have we been married?"</p> - -<p>"You know how long. Three years."</p> - -<p>Sophia crushed her cigarette out on the rock, wiped perspiration -(tears?) from her cheek with the back of her hand. "You have never -known anyone but me in your marriage bed, Kit."</p> - -<p>"You—you're lying."</p> - -<p>"No. They did what they did on the eve of your marriage. I have been -your wife for as long as you have had one."</p> - -<p>Temple's head whirled. It had been a quick courtship. He had known Lucy -only two weeks in those hectic post-graduate days of 1957. But for -fourteen brief days, it was Sophia he had known all along.</p> - -<p>"Sophia, I—"</p> - -<p>"There is no Sophia, not any more."</p> - -<p>He had hardly known Lucy, the real Lucy. This girl here was his wife, -always had been. Had the first fourteen days with Lucy been anything -but a dream? He was sorry Lucy had died—but the Lucy he had thought -dead was Sophia, very much alive.</p> - -<p>He took her in his arms, almost crushing her. He held her that way, -kissed her savagely, letting passion of a different sort take the place -of murder.</p> - -<p><i>This is my woman</i>, he thought, and awoke on his white pallet in -Nowhere.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I am awake," said Temple.</p> - -<p>"We see that. You shouldn't be."</p> - -<p>"No?"</p> - -<p>"No. There is one more dream."</p> - -<p>Temple dozed restfully but was soon aware of a commotion. Strangely, he -did not care. He was too tired to open his eyes, anyway. Let whatever -was going to happen, happen. He wanted his sleep.</p> - -<p>But the voice persisted.</p> - -<p>"This is highly irregular. You came in here once and—"</p> - -<p>"I did you a favor, didn't I?" (That voice is familiar, Temple thought.)</p> - -<p>"Well, yes. But what now?"</p> - -<p>"Temple's record is now one and one. In the second sequence he was the -victor. The Soviet entry had to extract certain information from him -and turn it over to her people. She extracted the information well -enough but somehow Temple made her change her mind. The information -never went anyplace. How Temple managed to play counterspy I don't -know, but he played it and won."</p> - -<p>"That's fine. But what do you want?"</p> - -<p>"The final E.C.R. is critical." (The voice was Arkalion's!) "How -critical, I can't tell you. Sufficient though, if you know that you -lose no matter how Temple fares. If the Russian woman defeats Temple, -you lose."</p> - -<p>"Naturally."</p> - -<p>"Let me finish. If Temple defeats the Russian woman, you also lose. -Either way, Earth is the loser. I haven't time to explain what you -wouldn't understand anyway. Will you cooperate?"</p> - -<p>"Umm-mm. You did save Temple's life. Umm-mm, yes. All right."</p> - -<p>"The third dream sequence is the wrong dream, the wrong contest with -the wrong antagonist at the wrong time, when a far more important -contest is brewing ... with the fate of Earth as a reward for the -victor."</p> - -<p>"What do you propose?"</p> - -<p>"I will arrange Temple's final dream. But if he disappears from this -room, don't be alarmed. It's a dream of a different sort. Temple won't -know it until the dream progresses, you won't know it until everything -is concluded, but Temple will fight for a slave or a free Earth."</p> - -<p>"Can't you tell us more?"</p> - -<p>"There is no time, except to say that along with the rest of the -Galaxy, you've been duped. The Nowhere Journey is a grim, tragic farce.</p> - -<p>"Awaken, Kit!"</p> - -<p>Temple awoke into what he thought was the third and final dream. -Strange, because this time he knew where he was and why, knew also that -he was dreaming, even remembered vividly the other two dreams.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Stealth," said Arkalion, and led Temple through long, white-walled -corridors. They finally came to a partially open door and paused there. -Peering within, Temple saw a room much like the one he had left, with -two white-gowned figures standing anxiously over a table. And prone on -the table was Sophia, whom Temple had loved short moments before, in -his second dream. Moments? Years. (Never, except in a dream.)</p> - -<p>"She's lovely," Arkalion whispered.</p> - -<p>"I know." Like himself, Sophia was garbed in a loose jumper and slacks.</p> - -<p>"Stealth," said Arkalion again. "Haste." Arkalion disappeared.</p> - -<p>"Well," Temple told himself. "What now? At least in the other dreams I -was thrust so completely into things, I knew what to do." He rubbed his -jaw grimly. "Not that it did much good the first time."</p> - -<p>Temple poked the partially-ajar door with his foot, pushing it open. -The two white-smocked figures had their backs to him, leaned intently -over the table and Sophia. Without knowing what motivated him, Temple -leaped into the room, grasped the nearer figure's arm, whirled him -around. Startled confusion began to alter the man's coarse features, -but his face went slack when Temple's fist struck his jaw with terrible -strength. The man collapsed.</p> - -<p>The second man turned, mouthing a stream of what must have been Russian -invective. He parried Temple's quick blow with his left hand, crossing -his own right fist to Temple's face and almost ending the fight as -quickly as it had started. Temple went down in a heap and was vaguely -aware of the Russian's booted foot hovering over his face. He reached -out, grabbed the boot with both hands, twisted. The man screamed and -fell and then they were rolling over and over, striking each other -with fists, knees, elbows, gouging, butting, cursing. Temple found -the Russian's throat, closed his hands around it, applied pressure. -Fists pounded his face, nails raked him, but slowly he succeeded in -throttling the Russian. When Temple got to his feet, trembling, the -Russian stared blankly at the ceiling. He would go on staring that way -until someone shut his eyes.</p> - -<p>Not questioning the incomprehensible, Temple knew he had done what -he must. Hardly seeking for the motive he could not find he lifted -the unconscious Sophia off the table, slung her long form across his -shoulder, plodded with her from the room. Arkalion had said haste. He -would hurry.</p> - -<p>He next was aware of a spaceship. Remembering no time lag, he simply -stood in the ship with Arkalion. And Sophia.</p> - -<p>He knew it was a spaceship because he had been in one before and -although the sensation of weightlessness was not present, they were in -deep space. Stars you never see through an obscuring atmosphere hung -suspended in the viewports. Cold-bright, not flickering against the -plush blackness of deep space, phalanxes and legions of stars without -numbers, in such wild profusion that space actually seemed three -dimensional.</p> - -<p>"This is a different sort of dream," said Sophia in English. "I -remember. I remember everything. Kit—"</p> - -<p>"Hello." He felt strangely shy, became mildly angry when Arkalion -hardly tried to suppress a slight snicker. "Well, that second dream -wasn't our idea," Temple protested. "Once there, we acted ... and—"</p> - -<p>"And...." said Sophia.</p> - -<p>"And nothing," Arkalion told them. "You haven't time. This is a -spaceship, not like the slow, bumbling craft your people use to reach -Mars or Jupiter."</p> - -<p>"Our people?" Temple demanded. "Not yours?"</p> - -<p>"Will you let me finish? Light is a laggard crawler by comparison with -the drive propelling this ship. Temple, Sophia, we are leaving your -Galaxy altogether."</p> - -<p>"Is that a fact," said Sophia, her Jupiter-found knowledge telling her -they were traveling an unthinkable distance. "For some final contest -between us, no doubt, to decide whether the U.S.S.R. or the U.S. -represents Earth? Kit, I l—love you, but...."</p> - -<p>"But Russia is more important, huh?"</p> - -<p>"No. I didn't say that. All my training has been along those lines, -though, and even if I'm aware it is indoctrination, the fact still -remains. If your country is truly better, but if I have seen your -country only through the eyes of Pravda, how can I ... I don't know, -Kit. Let me think."</p> - -<p>"You needn't," said Arkalion, smiling. "If the two of you would let -me get on with it you'd see this particular train of thought is -meaningless, quite meaningless." Arkalion cleared his throat.</p> - -<p>"Strange, but I have much the same problem as Sophia has. My -indoctrination was far more subtle though. Far more convincing, based -upon eons of propaganda methods. Temple, Sophia, those who initiated -the Nowhere Journey for hundreds of worlds of your galaxy did so with a -purpose."</p> - -<p>"I know. To decide who gets their vast knowledge."</p> - -<p>"Wrong. To find suitable hosts in a one-way relationship which is -hardly symbiosis, really out and out parasitism."</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>And Sophia: "What are you talking about?"</p> - -<p>"The sick, decadent, tired old creatures you consider your superiors. -Parasites. They need hosts in order to survive. Their old hosts have -been milked dry, have become too highly specialized, are now incapable -physically or emotionally of meeting a wide variety of environmental -challenges. The Nowhere Journey is to find a suitable new host. They -have found one. You of Earth."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand," Temple said, remembering the glowing accounts of -the 'superboys' he had been given by his brother Jason. "I just don't -get it. How can we be duped like that? Wouldn't someone have figured it -out? And if they have all the power everyone says, there isn't much we -can do about it, anyway."</p> - -<p>Arkalion scowled darkly. "Then write Earth's obituary. You'll need one."</p> - -<p>"Go ahead," Sophia told Arkalion. "There's more you want to say."</p> - -<p>"All right. Temple's thought is correct. They have tremendous power. -That is why you could be duped so readily. But their power is not -concentrated here. These much-faster-than-light ships are an extreme -rarity, for the power-drive no longer exists. Five ships in all, I -believe. Hardly enough to invade a planet, even for them. It takes them -thousands of years to get here otherwise. Thousands. Just as it took -me, when I came to Mars and Earth in the first place."</p> - -<p>"What?" cried Temple. "You...."</p> - -<p>"I am one of them. Correct. I suppose you would call me a subversive, -but I have made up my mind. Parasitism is unsatisfactory, when the -Maker got us started on symbiosis. Somewhere along the line, evolution -took a wrong turn. We are—monsters."</p> - -<p>"What do you look like?" Sophia demanded while Temple stood there -shaking his head and muttering to himself.</p> - -<p>"You couldn't see me, I am afraid. I was the representative here -to see how things were going, and when my people found you of the -Earth divided yourselves into two camps they realized they had been -considering your abilities in halves. Put together, you are probably -the top culture of your galaxy."</p> - -<p>"So, we win," said Temple.</p> - -<p>"Right and wrong. You lose. Earthmen will become hosts. Know what a -back-seat driver is, Temple? You would be a back seat driver in your -own body. Thinking, feeling, wanting to make decisions, but unable to. -Eating when the parasite wants to, sleeping at his command, fighting, -loving, living as he wills it. And perishing when he wants a new -garment. Oh, they offer something in return. Their culture, their way -of life, their scientific, economic, social system. It's good, too. -But not worth it. Did you know that their economic struggle between -democratic capitalism and totalitarian communism ended almost half a -million years ago? What they have now is a system you couldn't even -understand."</p> - -<p>"Well," Temple mused, "even if everything you said were true—"</p> - -<p>"Don't tell me you don't believe me?"</p> - -<p>"If it were true and we wanted to do something about it, what could we -do?"</p> - -<p>"Now, nothing. Nothing but delay things by striking swiftly and letting -fifty centuries of time perform your rearguard action. Destroy the one -means your enemy has of reaching Earth within foreseeable time and you -have destroyed his power to invade for a hundred centuries. He can -still reach Earth, but the same way you journeyed to Nowhere. Ten -thousand years of space travel in suspended animation. You saw me that -way once, Temple, and wondered. You thought I was dead, but that is -another story.</p> - -<p>"Anyway, let my people invade your planet, ten thousand years hence. -If Earth takes the right direction, if democracy and free thought and -individual enterprise win over totalitarian standardization as I think -they will, your people will be more than a match for the decadent -parasites who may or may not have sufficient initiative to cross space -the slow way and attempt invasion in ten thousand years."</p> - -<p>"Ten thousand?" said Temple.</p> - -<p>"Five from Earth to Nowhere. The distance to my home is far greater, -but the rate of travel can be increased. Ten thousand years."</p> - -<p>"Tell me," Temple demanded abruptly, "is this a dream?"</p> - -<p>Arkalion smiled. "Yes and no. It is not a dream like the others because -I assure you your bodies are not now resting on a pair of identical -white tables. Still in the other dreams physical things could happen -to you, while now you'll find you can do things as in a dream. For -example, neither one of you knows the intricacies of a spaceship, yet -if you are to save your planet, you must know the operation of the most -intricate of all space ships, a giant space station."</p> - -<p>"Then we're not dreaming?" asked Temple.</p> - -<p>"I never said that. Consider this sequence of events about half way -between the dream stage you have already seen and reality itself. -Remember this: you'll have to work together; you'll have to function -like machines. You will be handling totally alien equipment with only -the sort of knowledge which can be played into your brains to guide -you."</p> - -<p>Sophia sighed. "Being an American, Kit is too much of an individual to -help in such a situation."</p> - -<p>Temple snorted. "Being a cog in a simple, state-wide machine is one -thing—orienting yourself in a totally new situation is another."</p> - -<p>"Yes, well—"</p> - -<p>"See?" Arkalion cautioned. "See? Already you are arguing, but you must -work together completely, with not the slightest conflict between you. -As it is, you hardly have a chance."</p> - -<p>"What about you?" said Sophia practically. "Can't you help?"</p> - -<p>Arkalion shook his head. "No. While I'd like to see you come out of -this thing on top, I would not like to sacrifice my life for it—which -is exactly what I'd do if I remained with you and you lost.</p> - -<p>"So, let's get down to detail. Imagine space being folded, imagine your -time sense slowing, imagine a new dimension which negates the need -for extensive linear travel, imagine anything you want—but we are in -the process of moving nine hundred thousand light years through deep -space. There is a great galaxy at that distance, almost a twin of your -Milky Way: you call it the Andromeda Nebula. Closer to your own system -are the two Magellanic Clouds, so called, something else which you -table NGC 6822, and finally the Triangulum Galaxy. All have billions -of stars, but none of the stars have life. To find life outside your -galaxy you must seek it across almost a million light years. My people -live in Andromeda.</p> - -<p>"Guarding the flank of their galaxy and speeding through inter-galactic -space at many light years per minute is what you might call a space -station—but on a scale you've never dreamed of. Five of your miles in -diameter, it is a fortress of terrible strength, a storehouse of half a -million years of weapon development. It has been arranged that the one -man running this station—"</p> - -<p>"Just one?" Temple asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes. You will see why when you get there. It has been arranged that -he will leave, ostensibly on a scouting expedition. You see, I am not -alone in this venture. At any rate, he will report that the space -station has been taken—as, indeed, it will be, by the two of you. The -only ships capable of overtaking your station in its flight will be the -only ships capable of reaching your galaxy before cultural development -gives you a chance to survive. They will attack you. You will destroy -them—or be destroyed yourselves. Any questions?"</p> - -<p>The whole thing sounded fantastic to Temple. Could the fate of all -Earth rest on their shoulders in a totally alien environment? Could -they be expected to win? Temple had no reason to doubt the former, as -wild as it sounded. As for the latter, all he could do was hope. "Tell -me," he said, "how will we learn the use of all the weapons you claim -are at our disposal?"</p> - -<p>"Can you answer that for him, Sophia?" Arkalion wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"Umm, I think so. The same way I had all sorts of culture crammed into -me on Jupiter."</p> - -<p>"Precisely. Only take it from me our refinement is far better, and the -amount you have to learn actually is less."</p> - -<p>"What I'd like to know—" Sophia began.</p> - -<p>"Forget it. I want some sleep and you'll learn everything that's -necessary at the space station."</p> - -<p>And after that, ply Arkalion as they would with questions, he slumped -down in his chair and rested. Temple could suddenly understand and -appreciate. He felt like curling up into a tight little ball himself -and sleeping until everything was over, one way or the other.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></h2> - - -<p>"It's all so big! So incredible! We'll never understand it! Never...."</p> - -<p>"Relax, Sophia. Arkalion said—"</p> - -<p>"I know what Arkalion said, but we haven't learned anything yet."</p> - -<p>Hours before, Arkalion had landed them on the space station, a -gleaming, five-mile in diameter globe, and had quickly departed. Soon -after that they had found themselves in a veritable labyrinth of -tunnels, passageways, vaults. Occasionally they passed a great glowing -screen, and always the view of space was the same. Like a magnificent, -elongated shield, sparkling with a million million points of light, -pale gold, burnished copper, blue of glacial ice and silver white, the -Andromeda Galaxy spanned space from upper right to lower left. Off -at the lower right hand corner they could see their space station; -apparently the viewer itself stood far removed in space, projecting its -images here at the globe.</p> - -<p>Awed the first time they had seen one of the screens, Temple said, "All -the poets who ever wrote a line would have given half their lives to -see this as we see it now."</p> - -<p>"And all the writers, musicians, artists...."</p> - -<p>"Anyone who ever thought creatively, Sophia. How can you say it's -breathtaking or anything like that when words weren't ever spoken which -can...."</p> - -<p>"Let's not go poetic just yet," Sophia admonished him with a smile. -"We'd better get squared away here, as the expression goes, before it's -too late."</p> - -<p>"Yes.... Hello, what's this?" A door irised open for them in a solid -wall of metal. Irised was the only word Temple could think of, for -a tiny round hole appeared in the wall spreading evenly in all -directions with a slow, uniform, almost liquid motion. When it was -large enough to walk through, they entered a completely bare room and -Temple whirled in time to see the entrance irising shut.</p> - -<p>"Something smells," said Sophia, sniffing at the air.</p> - -<p>Sweet and cloying, the odor grew stronger. Temple may have heard a -faint hissing sound. "I'm getting sleepy," he said.</p> - -<p>Nodding, Sophia ran, banged on the wall where the door had opened so -suddenly, then closed. No response. "Is it a trap?"</p> - -<p>"By whom? For what?" Temple found it difficult to keep his eyes from -closing. "Fight it if you want, Sophia. I'm going to sleep." And he -squatted in the center of the floor, staring vacantly at the bare wall.</p> - -<p>Just as Temple was drifting off into a dream about complex machinery he -did not yet understand but realized he soon would, Sophia joined him -the hard way, collapsing alongside of him, unconscious and sprawling -gracelessly on the floor.</p> - -<p>Temple slept.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Sleepy-head, get up." Sophia stirred as he spoke and shook her. She -yawned, stretched, smiled up at him lazily. "How do you feel now?"</p> - -<p>"Hungry, Kit."</p> - -<p>"That's a point. It's all right now, though. I know exactly where the -food concentrates are kept. Three levels below us, second segment of -the wall. You can make those queer doors iris by pressing the wall -twice, with about a one second interval."</p> - -<p>They found the food compartment, discovered row on row of cans, boxes, -jars. Temple opened one of the cans, gazed in disappointment on a sorry -looking thing the size of his thumb. Brown, shriveled, dry and almost -flaky, it might have been a bird.</p> - -<p>Sophia turned up her nose. "If that's the best this place has to offer, -I'm not so hungry anymore."</p> - -<p>Suddenly, she gaped. So did Temple. A savory odor attracted their -attention, steam rising from the small can added to their interest. -Amazing things happened to the withered scrap of food on exposure to -the air. Temple barely had time to extract it from the can, burning his -fingers in the process, when it became twice the can's size. It grew -and by the time it finished, it was as savory looking a five pound fowl -as Temple had ever seen. Roasted, steaming hot, ready to eat.</p> - -<p>They tore into it with savage gusto.</p> - -<p>"Stephanie should see me now," Temple found himself saying and -regretted it.</p> - -<p>"Stephanie? Who's that?"</p> - -<p>"A girl."</p> - -<p>"Your girl?"</p> - -<p>"What's the difference. She's a million light years and fifty centuries -away."</p> - -<p>"Answer me."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Temple, wishing he could change the subject. "My girl." -He hadn't thought of Stephanie in a long time, perhaps because it was -meaningless to think of someone dead fifty centuries. Now that the -thoughts had been stirred within him, though, he found them poignantly -pleasant.</p> - -<p>"Your girl ... and you would marry her if you could?"</p> - -<p>He had grown attached to Sophia, not in reality, but in the second of -their dream worlds. He wished the memory of the dream had not lingered -for it disturbed him. In it he had loved Sophia as much as he now -loved Stephanie although the one was obtainable and the other was a -five-thousand year pinch of dust. And how much of the dream lingered -with him, in his head and his heart?</p> - -<p>"Let's forget about it," Temple suggested.</p> - -<p>"No. If she were here today and if everything were normal, would you -marry her?"</p> - -<p>"Why talk about what can't be?"</p> - -<p>"I want to know, that's why."</p> - -<p>"All right. Yes, I would. I would marry Stephanie."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Sophia. "Then what happened in the dream meant ... nothing."</p> - -<p>"We were two different people," Temple said coolly, then wished he -hadn't for it was only half-true. He remembered everything about -the dream-which-was-more-than-a-dream vividly. He had been far more -intimate with Sophia, and over a longer period of time, than he had -ever been with Stephanie. And even if Stephanie appeared impossibly on -the spot and he spent the rest of his life as her husband, still he -would never forget his dream-life with Sophia. In time he could let -himself tell her that. But not now; now the best thing he could do -would be to change the subject.</p> - -<p>"I see," Sophia answered him coldly.</p> - -<p>"No, you don't. Maybe some day you will."</p> - -<p>"There's nothing but what you told me. I see."</p> - -<p>"No ... forget it," he told her wearily.</p> - -<p>"Of course. It was only a dream anyway. The dream before that I -almost killed you out of hatred anyway. Love and hate, I guess they -neutralize. We're just a couple of people who have to do a job -together, that's all."</p> - -<p>"For gosh sakes, Sophia! That isn't true. I loved Stephanie. I still -would, were Stephanie alive. But she's—she's about as accessible as -the Queen of Sheba."</p> - -<p>"So? There's an American expression—you're carrying a torch."</p> - -<p>Probably, Temple realized, it was true. But what did all of that have -to do with Sophia? If he and Sophia ... if they ... would it be fair to -Sophia? It would be exactly as if a widower remarried, with the memory -of his first wife set aside in his heart ... no, different, for he had -never wed Stephanie, and always in him would be the desire for what -had never been.</p> - -<p>"Let's talk about it some other time," Temple almost pleaded, wanting -the respite for himself as much as for Sophia.</p> - -<p>"No. We don't have to talk about it ever. I won't be second best, Kit. -Let's forget all about it and do our job. I—I'm sorry I brought the -whole thing up."</p> - -<p>Temple felt like an unspeakable heel. And, anyway, the whole thing -wasn't resolved in his mind. But they couldn't just let it go at that, -not in case something happened when the ships came and one or both -of them perished. Awkwardly, for now he felt self-conscious about -everything, he got his arms about Sophia, drew her to him, placed his -lips to hers.</p> - -<p>That was as far as he got. She wrenched free, shoved clear of him. "If -you try that again, you will have another dislocated jaw."</p> - -<p>Temple shrugged wearily. If anything were to be resolved between them, -it would be later.</p> - -<p>When the ships came moments afterwards—seven, not the five Arkalion -predicted—they were completely unprepared.</p> - -<p>Temple spotted them first on one of the viewing screens, half way -between the receiver and the space station itself, silhouetted against -the elongated shield of Andromeda. They soared out of the picture, -appeared again minutes later, zooming in from the other direction in -two flights of four ships and three.</p> - -<p>"Come on!" Sophia cried over her shoulder, irising the door and -plunging from the room. Temple followed at her heels but her Jupiter -trained muscles pushed her lithe legs in long, powerful strides and -soon she outdistanced him. By the time he reached the armaments vault, -breathless, she was seated at the single gun-emplacement, her fingers -on the controls.</p> - -<p>"Watch the viewing screen and tell me how we're doing," Sophia told -him, not taking her eyes from the dials and levers.</p> - -<p>Temple watched, fascinated, saw a thin pencil of radiant energy leap -out into space, missing one of the ships by what looked like a scant -few miles. He called the corrective azimuth to her, hardly surprised by -the way his mind had absorbed and now could use its new-found knowledge.</p> - -<p>Temple understood and yet did not understand. For example, he knew the -station had but one gun and Sophia sat at it now, yet in certain ways -it didn't make sense. Could it cover all sectors of space? His mind -supplied the answer although he had not been aware of the knowledge -an instant before: yes. The space station did not merely rotate. Its -surface was a spherical projection of a moving Moebius strip and -although he tried to envision the concept, he failed. The weapon could -be fired at any given point in space at twenty second intervals, -covering every other conceivable point in the ensuing time.</p> - -<p>Sophia was firing again and Temple watched the thin beam leap across -space. "Hit!" he roared. "Hit!"</p> - -<p>Something flashed at the front end of the lead ship. The light -blinded him, but when he could see again only six ships remained in -space—casting perfect shadows on the Andromeda Galaxy! The source of -light, Temple realized triumphantly, was out of range, but he could -picture it—a glowing derelict of a ship, spewing heat, light and -radioactivity into the void.</p> - -<p>"One down," Sophia called. "Six to go. I like your American -expressions. Like sitting ducks—"</p> - -<p>She did not finish. Abruptly, light flared all around them. Something -shrieked in Temple's ears. The vault shuddered, shook. Girders -clattered to the floor, stove it in, revealing black rock. Sophia was -thrown back from the single gun, crashing against the wall, flipping in -air and landing on her stomach.</p> - -<p>Temple ran to her, turned her over. Blood smeared her face, trickled -from her lips. Although she did not move, she wasn't dead. Temple half -dragged, half carried her from the vault into an adjoining room. He -stretched her out comfortably as he could on the floor, ran back into -the vault.</p> - -<p>Molten metal had collected in one corner of the room, crept sluggishly -toward him across the floor, heating it white-hot. He skirted it, -climbed over a twisted girder, pushed his way past other debris, found -himself at the gun emplacement.</p> - -<p>"How dumb can I get?" Temple said aloud. "Sophia ran to the gun, -must have assumed I set up the shields." Again, it was an item of -information stored in his mind by the wisdom of the space station. -Protective shields made it impossible for anything but a direct hit -on the emplacement to do them any harm, only Temple had never set -the shields in place. He did so now, merely by tripping a series of -levers, but glancing at a dial to his left he realized with alarm that -the damage possibly had already been done. The needle, which measured -lethal radiation, hovered half way between negative and the critical -area marked in red and, even as Temple watched it, crept closer to the -red.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>How much time did he have? Temple could not be sure, bent grimly over -the weapon. It was completely unfamiliar to his mind, completely -unfamiliar to his fingers. He toyed with it, released a blast of -radiant energy, whirled to face the viewing screen. The beam streaked -out into the void, clearly hundreds of miles from its objective.</p> - -<p>Cursing, Temple tried again, scoring a near miss. The ships were -trading a steady stream of fire with him now, but with the shielding -up it was harmless, striking and then bouncing back into space. Temple -scored his first hit five minutes after sitting down at the gun, -whooped triumphantly and fired again. Five ships left.</p> - -<p>But the dial indicated an increase in radioactivity as newly created -neutrons spread their poison like a cancer. Behind Temple, the vault -was a shambles. The pool of molten metal had increased in size, almost -cutting off any possibility of escape. He could jump it now, Temple -realized, but it might grow larger. Consolidating its gains now, it had -sheared a pit in the floor, had commenced vaporizing the rock below it, -hissing and lapping with white-hot insistence.</p> - -<p>Something boomed, grated, boomed again and Temple watched another -girder bounce off the floor, dip one end into the molten pool and -clatter out a stub. Apparently the damage was extensive; a structural -weakness threatened to make the entire ceiling go.</p> - -<p>Temple fired again, got another ship. He could almost feel death -breathing on his shoulder, in no great hurry but sure of its prize. He -fired the weapon.</p> - -<p>If one ship remained when they could no longer use the gun, they would -have failed. One ship might make the difference for Earth. One....</p> - -<p>Three left. Two.</p> - -<p>They raked the space station with blast after blast—futilely. They -spun and twisted and streaked by, offering poor targets. Temple waited -his chance ... and glanced at the dial which measured radioactivity. -He yelped, stood up. The needle had encroached upon the red area. -Death to remain where he was more than a moment or two. Not quick -death, but rather slow and lingering. He could do what he had to, -then perish hours later. His life—for Earth? If Arkalion had known -all the answers, and if he could get both ships and if there weren't -another alternative for the aliens, the parasites.... Temple stabbed -out with his pencil beam, caught the sixth ship, then saw the needle -dip completely into the red. He got up trembling, stepped back, half -tripped on the stump of a girder as his eyes strayed in fascination to -the viewing screen. The seventh ship was out of range, hovering off -in the void somewhere, awaiting its chance. If Temple left the gun -the ship would come in close enough to hit the emplacement despite its -protective shielding. Well, it was suicide to remain there—especially -when the ship wasn't even in view.</p> - -<p>Temple leaped over the molten pool and left the vault.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He found Sophia stirring, sitting up.</p> - -<p>"What hit me?" she said, and laughed. "Something seems to have gone -wrong, Kit ... what...?"</p> - -<p>"It's all right now," he told her, lying.</p> - -<p>"You look pale."</p> - -<p>"You got one. I got five. One ship to go."</p> - -<p>"What are you waiting for?" And Sophia sprang to her feet, heading for -the vault.</p> - -<p>"Hold it!" Temple snapped. "Don't go in there."</p> - -<p>"Why not. I'll get the last ship and—"</p> - -<p>"<i>Don't go in there!</i>" Temple tugged at her arm, pulled her away from -the vault and its broken door which would not iris closed any more.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, Kit?"</p> - -<p>"I—I want to finish the last one myself, that's all."</p> - -<p>Sophia got herself loose, reached the circular doorway, peered inside. -"Like Dante's Inferno," she said. "You told me nothing was the matter. -Well, we can get through to the emplacement, Kit."</p> - -<p>"No." And again he stopped her. At least he had lived in freedom all -his life and although he was still young and did not want to die, -Sophia had never known freedom until now and it wouldn't be right if -she perished without savoring its fruits. He had a love, dust fifty -centuries, he had his past and his memories. Sophia had only the -future. Clearly, if someone had to yield life, Temple would do it.</p> - -<p>"It's worse than it looks," he told her quietly, drawing her back -from the door again. He explained what had happened, told her the -radioactivity had not quite reached critical point—which was a lie. -"So," he concluded, "we're wasting time. If I rush in there, fire, and -rush right out everything will be fine."</p> - -<p>"Then let me. I'm quicker than you."</p> - -<p>"No. I—I'm more familiar with the gun." Dying would not be too bad, if -he went with reasonable certainty he had saved the Earth. No man ever -died so importantly, Temple thought briefly, then felt cold fear when -he realized it would be dying just the same. He fought it down, said: -"I'll be right back."</p> - -<p>Sophia looked at him, smiling vaguely. "Then you insist on doing it?"</p> - -<p>When he nodded she told him, "Then,—kiss me. Kiss me now, Kit—in case -something...."</p> - -<p>Fiercely, he swept her to him, bruising her lips with his. "Sophia, -Sophia...."</p> - -<p>At last, she drew back. "Kit," she said, smiling demurely. She took his -right hand in her left, held it, squeezed it. Her own right hand she -suddenly brought up from her waist, fist clenched, driving it against -his jaw.</p> - -<p>Temple fell, half stunned by the blow, at her feet. For the space of a -single heartbeat he watched her move slowly toward the round doorway, -then he had clambered to his feet, running after her. He got his arms -on her shoulders, yanked at her.</p> - -<p>When she turned he saw she was crying. "I—I'm sorry, Kit. You couldn't -fool me about ... Stephanie. You can't fool me about this." She had -more leverage this time. She stepped back, bringing her small, hard -fist up from her knees. It struck Temple squarely at the point of the -jaw, with the strength of Jovian-trained muscle behind it. Temple's -feet left the floor and he landed with a thud on his back. His last -thought of Sophia—or of anything, for a while—made him smile faintly -as he lost consciousness. For a kiss she had promised him another -dislocated jaw, and she had kept her promise....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Later, how much later he did not know, something soft cushioned his -head. He opened his eyes, stared through swirling, spinning murk. He -focused, saw Arkalion. No—two Arkalions standing off at a distance, -watching him. He squirmed, knew his head was cushioned in a woman's -lap. He sighed, tried to sit up and failed. Soft hands caressed his -forehead, his cheeks. A face swam into vision, but mistily. "Sophia," -he murmured. His vision cleared.</p> - -<p>It was Stephanie.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"It's over," said Arkalion.</p> - -<p>"We're on our way back to Earth, Kit."</p> - -<p>"But the ships—"</p> - -<p>"All destroyed. If my people want to come here in ten thousand years, -let them try. I have a hunch you of Earth will be ready for them."</p> - -<p>"It took us five thousand to reach Nowhere," Temple mused. "It will -take us five thousand to return. We'll come barely in time to warn -Earth—"</p> - -<p>"Wrong," said Arkalion. "I still have my ship. We're in it now, so -you'll reach Earth with almost fifty centuries to spare. Why don't you -forget about it, though? If human progress for the next five thousand -years matches what has been happening for the last five, the parasites -won't stand a chance."</p> - -<p>"Earth—five thousand years in the future," Stephanie said dreamily. -"I wonder what it will be like.... Don't be so startled, Kit. I was a -pilot study on the Nowhere Journey. If I made it successfully, other -women would have been sent. But now there won't be any need."</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't be too sure of that," said the real Alaric Arkalion III. -"I suspect a lot of people are going to feel just like me. Why not -go out and colonize space. We can do it. Wonderful to have a frontier -again.... Why, a dozen billionaires will appear for every one like my -father. Good for the economy."</p> - -<p>"So, if we don't like Earth," said Stephanie, "we can always go out."</p> - -<p>"I have a strong suspicion you will like it," said Arkalion's double.</p> - -<p>Alaric III grinned. "What about you, bud? I don't want a twin brother -hanging around all the time."</p> - -<p>Arkalion grinned back at him. "What do you want me to do, young man? -I've forsaken my people. This is now my body. Tell you what, I promise -to be always on a different continent. Earth isn't so small that I'll -get in your hair."</p> - -<p>Temple sat up, felt the bandages on his jaw. He smiled at Stephanie, -told her he loved her and meant it. It was exactly as if she had -returned from the grave and in his first exultation he hadn't even -thought of Sophia, who had perished all alone in the depths of space -that a world might live....</p> - -<p>He turned to Arkalion. "Sophia?"</p> - -<p>"We found her dead, Kit. But smiling, as if everything was worth it."</p> - -<p>"It should have been me."</p> - -<p>"Whoever Sophia was," said Stephanie, "she must have been a wonderful -woman, because when you got up, when you came to, her name was...."</p> - -<p>"Forget it," said Temple. "Sophia and I have a very strange -relationship and...."</p> - -<p>"All right, you said forget it. Forget it." Stephanie smiled down at -him. "I love you so much there isn't even room for jealousy.... -Ummm ... Kit...."</p> - -<p>"Break up that clinch," ordered Arkalion. "We're making one more stop -at Nowhere to pick up anyone who wants to return to Earth. Some of 'em -probably won't but those who do are welcome...."</p> - -<p>"Jason will stay," Temple predicted. "He'll be a leader out among the -stars."</p> - -<p>"Then he'll have to climb over my back," Alaric III predicted happily, -his eyes on the viewport hungrily.</p> - -<p>Temple's jaw throbbed. He was tired and sleepy. But satisfied. Sophia -had died and for that he was sad, but there would always be a place -deep in his heart for the memory of her: delicious, somehow exotic, -not a love the way Stephanie was, not as tender, not as sure ... but -a feeling for Sophia that was completely unique. And whenever the -strangeness of the far-future Earth frightened Temple, whenever he -felt a situation might get the better of him, whenever doubt clouded -judgment, he would remember the tall lithe girl who had walked to her -death that a world might have the freedom she barely had tasted. And -together with Stephanie he would be able to do anything.</p> - -<p>Unless, he thought dreamily as he drifted off to sleep, his head -pillowed again on Stephanie's lap, he'd wind up with a bum jaw the rest -of his life.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Milton Lesser started reading science-fiction in 1939, and began -writing it in 1949. Since then he has had a myriad stories and novels -published under many pen-names. Of this novel, he writes:</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>"Along with a lot of other people, I like to write about the first -interstellar voyage. The reason is simple. Once mankind gets out -to the stars and begins to spread out across the galaxy, he'll be -immortal despite his best—make that <i>worst</i>—efforts to destroy -himself. You can destroy a world, maybe a dozen worlds, but spread -humanity out thin among the stars, colonies here, there, and all over, -and he's immortal. He'll live as long as there's a universe to hold -him.</p> - -<p>"I know interstellar travel is a long way off, but science has a way -of leaping ahead in geometric, not arithmetic progression. A hundred -years? Perhaps we'll have our first starship then. Let's hope so. For -if man can survive the next hundred years—the hardest hundred, I -believe—he'll reach the stars and go on forever."</p></blockquote> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Recruit for Andromeda, by Milton Lesser - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RECRUIT FOR ANDROMEDA *** - -***** This file should be named 50449-h.htm or 50449-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/4/4/50449/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Recruit for Andromeda - -Author: Milton Lesser - -Release Date: November 13, 2015 [EBook #50449] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RECRUIT FOR ANDROMEDA *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - Recruit for Andromeda - - by MILTON LESSER - - ACE BOOKS, INC. - 23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y. - - RECRUIT FOR ANDROMEDA - - Copyright 1959, by Ace Books, Inc. - - All Rights Reserved - - Printed in U.S.A. - - [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence - that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - -TOURNAMENT UNDER NIGHTMARE SKIES - - -When Kit Temple was drafted for the Nowhere Journey, he figured that -he'd left his home, his girl, and the Earth for good. For though those -called were always promised "rotation," not a man had ever returned -from that mysterious flight into the unknown. - -Kit's fellow-draftee Arkalion, the young man with the strange, old-man -eyes, seemed to know more than he should. So when Kit twisted the tail -of fate and followed Arkalion to the ends of space and time, he found -the secret behind "Nowhere" and a personal challenge upon which the -entire future of Earth depended. - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -When the first strong sunlight of May covered the tree-arched avenues -of Center City with green, the riots started. - -The people gathered in angry knots outside the city hall, met in the -park and littered its walks with newspapers and magazines as they -gobbled up editorial comment at a furious rate, slipped with dark of -night through back alleys and planned things with furious futility. -Center City's finest knew when to make themselves scarce: their -uniforms stood for everything objectionable at this time and they might -be subjected to clubs, stones, taunts, threats, leers--and knives. - -But Center City, like most communities in United North America, -had survived the Riots before and would survive them again. On -past performances, the damage could be estimated, too. Two-hundred -fifty-seven plate glass windows would be broken, three-hundred twelve -limbs fractured. Several thousand people would be treated for minor -bruises and abrasions, Center City would receive half that many damage -suits. The list had been drawn clearly and accurately; it hardly ever -deviated. - -And Center City would meet its quota. With a demonstration of -reluctance, of course. The healthy approved way to get over social -trauma once every seven-hundred eighty days. - - * * * * * - -"Shut it off, Kit. Kit, please." - -The telio blared in a cheaply feminine voice, "Oh, it's a long way -to nowhere, forever. And your honey's not coming back, never, never, -never...." A wailing trumpet represented flight. - -"They'll exploit anything, Kit." - -"It's just a song." - -"Turn it off, please." - -Christopher Temple turned off the telio, smiling. "They'll announce the -names in ten minutes," he said, and felt the corners of his mouth draw -taut. - -"Tell me again, Kit," Stephanie pleaded. "How old are you?" - -"You know I'm twenty-six." - -"Twenty-six. Yes, twenty-six, so if they don't call you this time, -you'll be safe. Safe, I can hardly believe it." - -"Nine minutes," said Temple in the darkness. Stephanie had drawn the -blinds earlier, had dialed for sound-proofing. The screaming in the -streets came to them as not the faintest whisper. But the song which -became briefly, masochistically popular every two years and two months -had spoiled their feeling of seclusion. - -"Tell me again, Kit." - -"What." - -"You know what." - -He let her come to him, let her hug him fiercely and whimper against -his chest. He remained passive although it hurt, occasionally stroking -her hair. He could not assert himself for another--he looked at his -strap chrono--for another eight minutes. He might regret it, if he did, -for a lifetime. - -"Tell me, Kit." - -"I'll marry you, Steffy. In eight minutes, less than eight minutes, -I'll go down and get the license. We'll marry as soon as it's legal." - -"This is the last time they have a chance for you. I mean, they won't -change the law?" - -Temple shook his head. "They don't have to. They meet their quota this -way." - -"I'm scared." - -"You and everyone else in North America, Steffy." - -She was trembling against him. "It's cold for June." - -"It's warm in here." He kissed her moist eyes, her nose, her lips. - -"Oh God, Kit. Five minutes." - -"Five minutes to freedom," he said jauntily. He did not feel that way -at all. Apprehension clutched at his chest with tight, painful fingers, -almost making it difficult for him to breathe. - -"Turn it on, Kit." - -He dialed the telio in time to see the announcer's insincere smile. -Smile seventeen, Kit thought wryly. Patriotic sacrifice. - -"Every seven-hundred eighty days," said the announcer, "two-hundred -of Center City's young men are selected to serve their country for an -indeterminate period regulated rigidly by a rotation system." - -"Liar!" Stephanie cried. "No one ever comes back. It's been thirty -years since the first group and not one of them...." - -"Shh," Temple raised a finger to his lips. - -"This is the thirteenth call since the inception of what is popularly -referred to as the Nowhere Journey," said the announcer. "Obviously, -the two hundred young men from Center City and the thousands from all -over this hemisphere do not in reality embark on a Journey to Nowhere. -That is quite meaningless." - -"Hooray for him," Temple laughed. - -"I wish he'd get on with it." - -"No, ladies and gentlemen, we use the word Nowhere merely because we -are not aware of the ultimate destination. Security reasons make it -impossible to...." - -"Yes, yes," said Stephanie impatiently. "Go on." - -"... therefore, the Nowhere Journey. With a maximum security lid on -the whole project, we don't even know why our men are sent, or by what -means. We know only that they go somewhere and not nowhere, bravely and -not fearfully, for a purpose vital to the security of this nation and -not to slake the thirst of a chessman of regiments and divisions. - -"If Center City's contribution helps keep our country strong, Center -City is naturally obligated...." - -"No one ever said it isn't our duty," Stephanie argued, as if the -announcer could indeed hear her. "We only wish we knew something about -it--and we wish it weren't forever." - -"It isn't forever," Temple reminded her. "Not officially." - -"Officially, my foot. If they never return, they never return. If -there's a rotation system on paper, but it's never used, that's not a -rotation system at all. Kit, it's forever." - -"... to thank the following sponsors for relinquishing their time...." - -"No one would want to sponsor _that_," Temple whispered cheerfully. - -"Kit," said Stephanie, "I--I suddenly have a hunch we have nothing to -worry about. They missed you all along and they'll miss you this time, -too. The last time, and then you'll be too old. That's funny, too old -at twenty-six. But we'll be free, Kit. Free." - -"He's starting," Temple told her. - -A large drum filled the entire telio screen. It rotated slowly from -bottom to top. In twenty seconds, the letter A appeared, followed by -about a dozen names. Abercrombie, Harold. Abner, Eugene. Adams, Gerald. -Sorrow in the Abercrombie household. Despair for the Abners. Black -horror for Adams. - -The drum rotated. - -"They're up to F, Kit." - -Fabian, Gregory G.... - -Names circled the drum slowly, live viscous alphabet soup. Meaningless, -unless you happened to know them. - -"Kit, I knew Thomas Mulvany." - -N, O, P.... - -"It's hot in here." - -"I thought you were cold." - -"I'm suffocating now." - -R, S.... - -"T!" Stephanie shrieked as the names began to float slowly up from the -bottom of the drum. - -Tabor, Tebbets, Teddley.... - -Temple's mouth felt dry as a ball of cotton. Stephanie laughed -nervously. Now--or never. Never? - -Now. - -Stephanie whimpered despairingly. - -TEMPLE, CHRISTOPHER. - - * * * * * - -"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Jones." - -"Hardly, Mr. Smith. Hardly. Three minutes late." - -"I've come in response to your ad." - -"I know. You look old." - -"I am over twenty-six. Do you mind?" - -"Not if you don't, Mr. Smith. Let me look at you. Umm, you seem the -right height, the right build." - -"I meet the specifications exactly." - -"Good, Mr. Smith. And your price." - -"No haggling," said Smith. "I have a price which must be met." - -"Your price, Mr. Smith?" - -"Ten million dollars." - -The man called Jones coughed nervously. "That's high." - -"Very. Take it or leave it." - -"In cash?" - -"Definitely. Small unmarked bills." - -"You'd need a moving van!" - -"Then I'll get one." - -"Ten million dollars," said Jones, "is quite a price. Admittedly, I -haven't dealt in this sort of traffic before, but--" - -"But nothing. Were your name Jones, really and truly Jones, I might ask -less." - -"Sir?" - -"You are Jones exactly as much as I am Smith." - -"Sir?" Jones gasped again. - -Smith coughed discreetly. "But I have one advantage. I know you. You -don't know me, Mr. Arkalion." - -"Eh? Eh?" - -"Arkalion. The North American Carpet King. Right?" - -"How did you know?" the man whose name was not Jones but Arkalion asked -the man whose name was not Smith but might as well have been. - -"When I saw your ad," said not-Smith, "I said to myself, 'now here must -be a very rich, influential man.' It only remained for me to study a -series of photographs readily obtainable--I have a fine memory for -that, Mr. Arkalion--and here you are; here is Arkalion the Carpet King." - -"What will you do with the ten million dollars?" demanded Arkalion, -not minding the loss nearly so much as the ultimate disposition of his -fortune. - -"Why, what does anyone do with ten million dollars? Treasure it. Invest -it. Spend it." - -"I mean, what will you do with it if you are going in place of my--" -Arkalion bit his tongue. - -"Your son, were you saying, Mr. Arkalion? Alaric Arkalion the Third. -Did you know that I was able to boil my list of men down to thirty when -I studied their family ties?" - -"Brilliant, Mr. Smith. Alaric is so young--" - -"Aren't they all? Twenty-one to twenty-six. Who was it who once said -something about the flower of our young manhood?" - -"Shakespeare?" said Mr. Arkalion realizing that most quotes of lasting -importance came from the bard. - -"Sophocles," said Smith. "But no matter. I will take young Alaric's -place for ten million dollars." - -Motives always troubled Mr. Arkalion, and thus he pursued what might -have been a dangerous conversation. "You'll never get a chance to spend -it on the Nowhere Journey." - -"Let me worry about that." - -"No one ever returns." - -"My worry, not yours." - -"It is forever--as if you dropped out of existence. Alaric is so young." - -"I have always gambled, Mr. Arkalion. If I do not return in five -years, you are to put the money in a trust fund for certain designated -individuals, said fund to be terminated the moment I return. If I come -back within the five years, you are merely to give the money over to -me. Is that clear?" - -"Yes." - -"I'll want it in writing, of course." - -"Of course. A plastic surgeon is due here in about ten minutes, Mr. -Smith, and we can get on with.... But if I don't know your name, how -can I put it in writing?" - -Smith smiled. "I changed my name to Smith for the occasion. Perfectly -legal. My name is John X. Smith--now!" - -"That's where you're wrong," said Mr. Arkalion as the plastic surgeon -entered. "Your name is Alaric Arkalion III--_now_." - -The plastic surgeon skittered around Smith, examining him minutely with -the casual expertness that comes with experience. - -"Have to shorten the cheek bones." - -"For ten million dollars," said Smith, "you can take the damned things -out altogether and hang them on your wall." - - * * * * * - -Sophia Androvna Petrovitch made her way downtown through the bustle of -tired workers and the occasional sprinkling of Comrades. She crushed -her _ersatz_ cigarette underfoot at number 616 Stalin Avenue, paused -for the space of five heartbeats at the door, went inside. - -"What do you want?" The man at the desk was myopic but bull-necked. - -Sophia showed her party card. - -"Oh, Comrade. Still, you are a woman." - -"You're terribly observant, Comrade," said Sophia coldly. "I am here to -volunteer." - -"But a woman." - -"There is nothing in the law which says a woman cannot volunteer." - -"We don't make women volunteer." - -"I mean really volunteer, of her own free will." - -"Her--own--free will?" The bull-necked man removed his spectacles, -scratched his balding head with the ear-pieces. "You mean volunteer -without--" - -"Without coercion. I want to volunteer. I am here to volunteer. I want -to sign on for the next Stalintrek." - -"Stalintrek, a woman?" - -"That is what I said." - -"We don't force women to volunteer." The man scratched some more. - -"Oh, really," said Sophia. "This is 1992, not mid-century, Comrade. Did -not Stalin say, 'Woman was created to share the glorious destiny of -Mother Russia with her mate?'" Sophia created the quote randomly. - -"Yes, if Stalin said--" - -"He did." - -"Still, I do not recall--" - -"What?" Sophia cried. "Stalin dead these thirty-nine years and you -don't recall his speeches? What is your name, Comrade?" - -"Please, Comrade. Now that you remind me, I remember." - -"What is your name." - -"Here, I will give you the volunteer papers to sign. If you pass the -exams, you will embark on the next Stalintrek, though why a beautiful -young woman like you--" - -"Shut your mouth and hand me those papers." - -There, sitting behind that desk, was precisely why. Why should she, -Sophia Androvna Petrovitch, wish to volunteer for the Stalintrek? -Better to ask why a bird flies south in the winter, one day ahead of -the first icy gale. Or why a lemming plunges recklessly into the sea -with his multitudes of fellows, if, indeed, the venture were to turn -out grimly. - -But there, behind that desk, was part of the reason. The Comrade. The -bright sharp Comrade, with his depth of reasoning, his fountain of -gushing emotions, his worldliness. _Pfooey!_ - -It was as if she had been in a cocoon all her life, stifled, starved, -the cottony inner lining choking her whenever she opened her mouth, -the leathery outer covering restricting her when she tried to move. -No one had ever returned from the Stalintrek. She then had to assume -no one would. Including Sophia Androvna Petrovitch. But then, there -was nothing she would miss, nothing to which she particularly wanted -to return. Not the stark, foul streets of Stalingrad, not the workers -with their vapid faces or the Comrades with their cautious, sweating, -trembling, fearful non-decisions, not the higher echelon of Comrades, -more frightened but showing it less, who would love the beauty of -her breasts and loins but not herself for you never love anything -but the Stalinimage and Mother Russia herself, not those terrified -martinet-marionettes who would love the parts of her if she permitted -but not her or any other person for that matter. - -Wrong with the Stalintrek was its name alone, a name one associated -with everything else in Russia for an obvious, post-Stalin reason. But -everything else about the Stalintrek shrieked mystery and adventure. -Where did you go? How did you get there? What did you do? Why? - -A million questions which had kept her awake at night and, if -she thought about them hard enough, satisfied her deep longing -for something different. And then one day when stolid Mrs. -Ivanovna-Rasnikov had said, "It is a joke, a terrible, terrible joke -they are taking my husband Fyodor on the Stalintrek when he lacks -sufficient imagination to go from here to Leningrad or even Tula. Can -you picture Fyodor on the Stalintrek? Better they should have taken me. -Better they should have taken his wife." That day Sophia could hardly -contain herself. - -As a party member she had access to the law and she read it three times -from start to finish (in her dingy flat by the light of a smoking, -foul-smelling, soft-wax candle) but could find nothing barring women -from the Stalintrek. - -Had Fyodor Rasnikov volunteered? Naturally. Everyone volunteered, -although when your name was called you had no choice. There had been -no draft in Russia since the days of the Second War of the People's -Liberation. Volunteer? What, precisely, did the word mean? - -She, Sophia Androvna Petrovitch would volunteer, without being told. -Thus it was she found herself at 616 Stalin Avenue, and thus the -balding, myopic, bull-necked Comrade thrust the papers across his desk -at her. - -She signed her name with such vehemence and ferocity that she almost -tore through the paper. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -_Three-score men sit in the crowded, smoke-filled room. Some drink -beer, some squat in moody silence, some talk in an animated fashion -about nothing very urgent. At the one small door, two guards pace back -and forth slowly, creating a gentle swaying of smoke-patterns in the -hazy room. The guards, in simple military uniform, carry small, deadly -looking weapons._ - -FIRST MAN: Fight City Hall? Are you kidding? They took you, bud. Don't -try to fight it, I know. I know. - -SECOND MAN: I'm telling you, there was a mistake in the records. -I'm over twenty-six. Two weeks and two days. Already I wrote to my -Congressman. Hell, that's why I voted for him, he better go to bat for -me. - -THIRD MAN: You think that's something? I wouldn't be here only those -doctors are crazy. I mean, crazy. Me, with a cyst big as a golf ball on -the base of my spine. - -FIRST MAN: You too. Don't try to fight it. - -FOURTH MAN: (Newly named Alaric Arkalion III) I look forward to this -as a stimulating adventure. Does the fact that they select men for the -Nowhere Journey once every seven hundred and eighty days strike anyone -as significant? - -SECOND MAN: I got my own problems. - -ALARIC ARKALION: This is not a thalamic problem, young man. Not -thalamic at all. - -THIRD MAN: Young man? Who are you kidding? - -ALARIC ARKALION: (Who realizes, thanks to the plastic surgeon, he is -the youngest looking of all, with red cheeks and peachfuzz whiskers) It -is a problem of the intellect. Why seven hundred and eighty days? - -FIRST MAN: I read the magazine, too, chief. You think we're all going -to the planet Mars. How original. - -ALARIC ARKALION: As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I think. - -SECOND MAN: Mars? - -FIRST MAN: (Laughing) It's a long way from Mars to City Hall, doc. - -SECOND MAN: You mean, through space to Mars? - -ALARIC ARKALION: Exactly, exactly. Quite a coincidence, otherwise. - -FIRST MAN: You're telling me. - -ALARIC ARKALION: (Coldly) Would you care to explain it? - -FIRST MAN: Why, sure. You see, Mars is--uh, I don't want to steal your -thunder, chief. Go ahead. - -ALARIC ARKALION: Once every seven hundred and eighty days Mars and the -Earth find themselves in the same orbital position with respect to the -sun. In other words, Mars and Earth are closest then. Were there such a -thing as space travel, new, costly, not thoroughly tested, they would -want to make each journey as brief as possible. Hence the seven hundred -and eighty days. - -FIRST MAN: Not bad, chief. You got most of it. - -THIRD MAN: No one ever said anything about space travel. - -FIRST MAN: You think we'd broadcast it or something, stupid? It's part -of a big, important scientific experiment, only we're the hamsters. - -ALARIC ARKALION: Ridiculous. You're forgetting all about the Cold War. - -FIRST MAN: He thinks we're fighting a war with the Martians. (Laughs) -Orson Wells stuff, huh? - -ALARIC ARKALION: With the Russians. The Russians. We developed A bombs. -They developed A bombs. We came up with the H bomb. So did they. We -placed a station up in space, a fifth of the way to the moon. So did -they. Then--nothing more about scientific developments. For over twenty -years. I ask you, doesn't it seem peculiar? - -FIRST MAN: Peculiar, he says. - -ALARIC ARKALION: Peculiar. - -SECOND MAN: I wish my Congressman.... - -FIRST MAN: You and your Congressman. The way you talk, it was your vote -got him in office. - -SECOND MAN: If only I could get out and talk to him. - -ALARIC ARKALION: No one is permitted to leave. - -FIRST MAN: Punishable by a prison term, the law says. - -SECOND MAN: Oh yeah? Prison, shmision. Or else go on the Nowhere -Journey. Well, I don't see the difference. - -FIRST MAN: So, go ahead. Try to escape. - -SECOND MAN: (Looking at the guards) They got them all over. All over. I -think our mail is censored. - -ALARIC ARKALION: It is. - -SECOND MAN: They better watch out. I'm losing my temper. I get violent -when I lose my temper. - -FIRST MAN: See? See how the guards are trembling. - -SECOND MAN: Very funny. Maybe you didn't have a good job or something? -Maybe you don't care. I care. I had a job with a future. Didn't pay -much, but a real blue chip future. So they send me to Nowhere. - -FIRST MAN: You're not there yet. - -SECOND MAN: Yeah, but I'm going. - -THIRD MAN: If only they let you know when. My back is killing me. I'm -waiting to pull a sick act. Just waiting, that's all. - -FIRST MAN: Go ahead and wait, a lot of good it will do you. - -THIRD MAN: You mind your own business. - -FIRST MAN: I am, doc. You brought the whole thing up. - -SECOND MAN: He's looking for trouble. - -THIRD MAN: He'll get it. - -ALARIC ARKALION: We're going to be together a long time. A long time. -Why don't you all relax? - -SECOND MAN: You mind your own business. - -FIRST MAN: Nuts, aren't they. They're nuts. A sick act, yet. - -SECOND MAN: Look how it doesn't bother him. A failure, he was. I can -just see it. What does he care if he goes away forever and doesn't come -back? One bread line is as good as another. - -FIRST MAN: Ha-ha. - -SECOND MAN: Yeah, well I mean it. Forever. We're going away, -someplace--forever. We're not coming back, ever. No one comes back. -It's for good, for keeps. - -FIRST MAN: Tell it to your congressman. Or maybe you want to pull a -sick act, too? - -THIRD MAN: (Hits First Man, who, surprised, crashes back against a -table and falls down) It isn't an act, damn you! - -GUARD: All right, break it up. Come on, break it up.... - -ALARIC ARKALION: (To himself) I wish I saw that ten million dollars -already--_if_ I ever get to see it. - - * * * * * - -They drove for hours through the fresh country air, feeling the wind -against their faces, listening to the roar their ground-jet made, all -alone on the rimrock highway. - -"Where are we going, Kit?" - -"Search me. Just driving." - -"I'm glad they let you come out this once. I don't know what they would -have done to me if they didn't. I had to see you this once. I--" - -Temple smiled. He had absented himself without leave. It had been -difficult enough and he might yet be in a lot of hot water, but it -would be senseless to worry Stephanie. "It's just for a few hours," he -said. - -"Hours. When we want a whole lifetime. Kit. Oh, Kit--why don't we run -away? Just the two of us, someplace where they'll never find you. I -could be packed and ready and--" - -"Don't talk like that. We can't." - -"You want to go where they're sending you. You want to go." - -"For God's sake, how can you talk like that? I don't want to go -anyplace, except with you. But we can't run away, Steffy. I've got to -face it, whatever it is." - -"No you don't. It's noble to be patriotic, sure. It always was. But -this is different, Kit. They don't ask for part of your life. Not for -two years, or three, or a gamble because maybe you won't ever come -back. They ask for all of you, for the rest of your life, forever, and -they don't even tell you why. Kit, don't go! We'll hide someplace and -get married and--" - -"And nothing." Temple stopped the ground-jet, climbed out, opened the -door for Stephanie. "Don't you see? There's no place to hide. Wherever -you go, they'd look. You wouldn't want to spend the rest of your life -running, Steffy. Not with me or anyone else." - -"I would. I would!" - -"Know what would happen after a few years? We'd hate each other. You'd -look at me and say 'I wouldn't be hiding like this, except for you. I'm -young and--'" - -"Kit, that's cruel! I would not." - -"Yes, you would. Steffy, I--" A lump rose in his throat. He'd tell her -goodbye, permanently. He had to do it that way, did not want her to -wait endlessly and hopelessly for a return that would not materialize. -"I didn't get permission to leave, Steffy." He hadn't meant to tell her -that, but suddenly it seemed an easy way to break into goodbye. - -"What do you mean? No--you didn't...." - -"I had to see you. What can they do, send me for longer than forever?" - -"Then you do want to run away with me!" - -"Steffy, no. When I leave you tonight, Steffy, it's for good. That's -it. The last of Kit Temple. Stop thinking about me. I don't exist. -I--never was." It sounded ridiculous, even to him. - -"Kit, I love you. I love you. How can I forget you?" - -"It's happened before. It will happen again." That hurt, too. He was -talking about a couple of statistics, not about himself and Stephanie. - -"We're different, Kit. I'll love you forever. And--Kit ... I know -you'll come back to me. I'll wait, Kit. We're different. You'll come -back." - -"How many people do you think said _that_ before?" - -"You don't want to come back, even if you could. You're not thinking of -us at all. You're thinking of your brother." - -"You know that isn't true. Sometimes I wonder about Jase, sure. But if -I thought there was a chance to return--I'm a selfish cuss, Steffy. If -I thought there was a chance, you know I'd want you all for myself. I'd -brand you, and that's the truth." - -"You do love me!" - -"I loved you, Steffy. Kit Temple loved you." - -"Loved?" - -"Loved. Past tense. When I leave tonight, it's as if I don't exist -anymore. As if I never existed. It's got to be that way, Steffy. In -thirty years, no one ever returned." - -"Including your brother, Jase. So now you want to find him. What do I -count for? What...." - -"This going wasn't my idea. I wanted to stay with you. I wanted to -marry you. I can't now. None of it. Forget me, Steffy. Forget you ever -knew me. Jase said that to our folks before he was taken." Almost five -years before Jason Temple had been selected for the Nowhere Journey. -He'd been young, though older than his brother Kit. Young, unattached, -almost cheerful he was. Naturally, they never saw him again. - -"Hold me, Kit. I'm sorry ... carrying on like this." - -They had walked some distance from the ground-jet, through scrub -oak and bramble bushes. They found a clearing, fragrant-scented, -soft-floored still from last autumn, melodic with the chirping of -nameless birds. They sat, not talking. Stephanie wore a gay summer -dress, full-skirted, cut deep beneath the throat. She swayed toward him -from the waist, nestled her head on his shoulder. He could smell the -soft, sweet fragrance of her hair, of the skin at the nape of her neck. -"If you want to say goodbye ..." she said. - -"Stop it," he told her. - -"If you want to say goodbye...." - -Her head rolled against his chest. She turned, cradled herself in his -arms, smiled up at him, squirmed some more and had her head pillowed on -his lap. She smiled tremulously, misty-eyed. Her lips parted. - -He bent and kissed her, knowing it was all wrong. This was not goodbye, -not the way he wanted it. Quickly, definitely, for once and all. With -a tear, perhaps, a lot of tears. But permanent goodbye. This was all -wrong. The whole idea was to be business-like, objective. It had to -be done that way, or no way at all. Briefly, he regretted leaving the -encampment. - - -This wasn't goodbye the way he wanted it. The way it had to be. This -was _auf weidersen_. - -And then he forgot everything but Stephanie.... - - * * * * * - -"I am Alaric Arkalion III," said the extremely young-looking man with -the old, wise eyes. - -How incongruous, Temple thought. The eyes look almost middle-aged. The -rest of him--a boy. - -"Something tells me we'll be seeing a lot of each other," Arkalion -went on. The voice was that of an older man, too, belying the youthful -complexion, the almost childish features, the soft fuzz of a beard. - -"I'm Kit Temple," said Temple, extending his hand. "Arkalion, a strange -name. I know it from somewhere.... Say! Aren't you--don't you have -something to do with carpets or something?" - -"Here and now, no. I am a number. A-92-6417. But my father is--perhaps -I had better say was--my father is Alaric Arkalion II. Yes, that is -right, the carpet king." - -"I'll be darned," said Temple. - -"Why?" - -"Well," Temple laughed. "I never met a billionaire before." - -"Here I am not a billionaire, nor will I ever be one again. A-92-6417, -a number. On his way to Mars with a bunch of other numbers." - -"Mars? You sound sure of yourself." - -"Reasonably. Ah, it is a pleasure to talk with a gentleman. I am -reasonably certain it will be Mars." - -Temple nodded in agreement. "That's what the Sunday supplements say, -all right." - -"And doubtless you have observed no one denies it." - -"But what on Earth do we want on Mars?" - -"That in itself is a contradiction," laughed Arkalion. "We'll find out, -though, Temple." - -They had reached the head of the line, found themselves entering a -huge, double-decker jet-transport. They found two seats together, -followed the instructions printed at the head of the aisle by strapping -themselves in and not smoking. Talking all around them was subdued. - -"Contrariness has given way to fear," Arkalion observed. "You should -have seen them the last few days, waiting around the induction center, -a two-ton chip on each shoulder. Say, where _were_ you?" - -"I--what do you mean?" - -"I didn't see you until last evening. Suddenly, you were here." - -"Did anyone else miss me?" - -"But I remember you the first day." - -"Did anyone else miss me? Any of the officials?" - -"No. Not that I know of." - -"Then I was here," Temple said, very seriously. - -Arkalion smiled. "By George, of course. Then you were here. Temple, -we'll get along fine." - -Temple said that was swell. - -"Anyway, we'd better. Forever is a long time." - -Three minutes later, the jet took off and soared on eager wings toward -the setting sun. - - * * * * * - -"Men, since we are leaving here in a few hours and since there is no -way to get out of the encampment and no place to go over the desert -even if you could," the microphone in the great, empty hall boomed as -the two files of men marched in, "there is no harm in telling you where -you are. From this point, in a limited sense, you shall be kept abreast -of your progress. - -"We are in White Sands, New Mexico." - -"The Garden Spot of the Universe!" someone shouted derisively, -remembering the bleak hot desert and jagged mountain peaks as they came -down. - -"White Sands," muttered Arkalion. "It looks like space travel now, -doesn't it, Kit." - -Temple shrugged. "Why?" - -"White Sands was the center of experiments in rocketry decades ago, -when people still talked about those things. Then, for a long time, no -one heard anything about White Sands. The rockets grew here, Kit." - -"I can readily see why. You could look all your life without finding a -barren spot like this." - -"Precisely. Someone once called this place--or was it some other place -like it?--someone once called it a good place to throw old razor -blades. If people still used razor blades." - -The microphone blared again, after the several hundred men had entered -the great hall and milled about among the echoes. Temple could picture -other halls like this, other briefings. "Men, whenever you are given -instructions, in here or elsewhere, obey them instantly. Our job is a -big one, complicated and exacting. Attention to detail will save us -trouble." - -Someone said, "My old man served a hitch in the army, back in the -sixties. That's what he always said, attention to details. The army is -crazy about things like that. Are we in the army or something?" - -"This is not the army, but the function is similar," barked the -microphone. "Do as you are told and you will get along." - -Stirrings in the crowd. Mutterings. Temple gaped. Microphone, yes--but -receivers also, placed strategically, all around the hall, to pick up -sound. Telio receivers too, perhaps? It made him feel something like a -goldfish. - -Apparently someone liked the idea of the two-way microphones. "I got a -question. When are we coming back?" - -Laughter. Hooting. Catcalls. - -Blared the microphone: "There is a rotation system in operation, men. -When it is feasible, men will be rotated." - -"Yeah, in thirty years it ain't been whatsiz--feasible--once!" - -"That, unfortunately, is correct. When the situation permits, we will -rotate you home." - -"From where? Where are we going?" - -"At least tell us that." - -"Where?" - -"How about that?" - -There was a pause, then the microphone barked: "I don't know the answer -to that question. You won't believe me, but it is the truth. No one -knows where you are going. No one. Except the people who are already -there." - -More catcalls. - -"That doesn't make sense," Arkalion whispered. "If it's space travel, -the pilots would know, wouldn't they?" - -"Automatic?" Temple suggested. - -"I doubt it. Space travel must still be new, even if it has thirty -years under its belt. If that man speaks the truth--if no one knows ... -just where in the universe _are_ we going?" - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -"Hey, looka me. I'm flying!" - -"Will you get your big fat feet out of my face?" - -"Sure. Show me how to swim away through air, I'll be glad to." - -"Leggo that spoon!" - -"I ain't got your spoon." - -"Will you look at it float away. Hey spoon, hey!" - -"Watch this, Charlie. This will get you. I mean, get you." - -"What are you gonna do?" - -"Relax, chum." - -"Leggo my leg. Help! I'm up in the air. Stop that." - -"I said relax. There. Ha-ha, lookit him spin, just like a top. All you -got to do is get him started and he spins like a top with arms and -legs. Top of the morning to you, Charlie. Ha-ha. I said, top of the...." - -"Someone stop me, I'm getting dizzy." - -They floated, tumbled, spun around the spaceship's lounge room in -simple, childish glee. They cavorted in festive weightlessness. - -"They're happy now," Arkalion observed. "The novelty of free fall, of -weighing exactly nothing, strikes them as amusing." - -"I think I'm getting the hang of it," said Temple. Clumsily, he made a -few tentative swimming motions in the air, propelling himself forward -a few yards before he lost his balance and tumbled head over heels -against the wall. - -Arkalion came to him quickly, in a combination of swimming and pushing -with hands and feet against the wall. Arkalion righted him expertly, -sat down gingerly beside him. "If you keep sudden motions to a minimum, -you'll get along fine. More than anything else, that's the secret of -it." - -Temple nodded. "It's sort of like the first time you're on ice skates. -Say, how come you're so good at it?" - -"I used to read the old, theoretical books on space-travel." The words -poured out effortlessly, smoothly. "I'm merely applying the theories -put forward as early as the 1950's." - -"Oh." But it left Temple with some food for thought. Alaric Arkalion -was a queer duck, anyway, and of all the men gathered in the -spaceship's lounge, he alone had mastered weightlessness with hardly -any trouble. - -"Take your ice skates," Arkalion went on. "Some people put them on and -use them like natural extensions of their feet the first time. Others -fall all over themselves. I suppose I am lucky." - -"Sure," said Temple. Actually, the only thing odd about Arkalion was -his old-young face and--perhaps--his propensity for coming up with -the right answers at the right times. Arkalion had seemed so certain -of space-travel. He'd hardly batted an eyelash when they boarded a -long, tapering bullet-shaped ship at White Sands and thundered off -into the sky. He took for granted the change-over to a huge round ship -at the wheel-shaped station in space. Moments after leaving the space -station--with a minimum of stress and strain, thanks to the almost-nil -gravity--it was Arkalion who first swam through air to the viewport -and pointed out the huge crescent earth, green and gray and brown, -sparkling with patches of dazzling silver-white. "You will observe it -is a crescent," Arkalion had said. "It is closer to the sun than we -are, and off at an angle. As I suspected, our destination is Mars." - - * * * * * - -Then everyone was saying goodbye to earth. Fantastic, it seemed. There -were tears, there was laughter, cursing, promises of return, awkward -verbal comparisons with the crescent moon, vows of faithfulness to -lovers and sweethearts. And there was Arkalion, with an avid expression -in the old eyes, Arkalion with his boyish face, not saying goodbye so -much as he was calling hello to something Temple could not fathom. - -Now, as he struggled awkwardly with weightlessness, Temple called -it his imagination. His thought-patterns shifted vaguely, without -motivation, from the gleaming, polished interior of the ship with its -smell of antiseptic and metal polish to the clear Spring air of Earth, -blue of sky and bright of sun. The unique blue sky of Earth which he -somehow knew could not be duplicated elsewhere. Elsewhere--the word -itself bordered on the meaningless. - -And Stephanie. The brief warm ecstasy of her--once, forever. He -wondered with surprising objectivity if a hundred other names, a -hundred other women were not in a hundred other minds while everyone -stared at the crescent Earth hanging serenely in space--with each name -and each woman as dear as Stephanie, with the same combination of fire -and gentle femininity stirring the blood but saddening the heart. -Would Stephanie really forget him? Did he want her to? That part of -him burned by the fire of her said no--no, she must not forget him. -She was his, his alone, roped and branded though a universe separated -them. But someplace in his heart was the thought, the understanding, -the realization that although Stephanie might keep a small place for -him tucked someplace deep in her emotions, she must forget. He was -gone--permanently. For Stephanie, he was dead. It was as he had told -her that last stolen day. It was ... _Stephanie, Stephanie, how much I -love you_.... - -Struggling with weightlessness, he made his way back to the small room -he shared with Arkalion. Hardly more than a cubicle, it was, with -sufficient room for two beds, a sink, a small chest. He lay down and -slept, murmuring Stephanie's name in his sleep. - - * * * * * - -He awoke to the faint hum of the air-pumps, got up feeling rested, -forgot his weightlessness and floated to the ceiling where only an -outthrust arm prevented a nasty bump on his head. He used hand grips on -the wall to let himself down. He washed, aware of no way to prevent the -water he splashed on his face from forming fine droplets and spraying -the entire room. When he crossed back to the foot of his bed to get his -towel he thrust one foot out too rapidly, lost his balance, half-rose, -stumbled and fell against the other bed which, like all other items of -furniture, was fastened to the floor. But his elbow struck sleeping -Arkalion's jaw sharply, hard enough to jar the man's teeth. - -"I'm sorry," said Temple. "Didn't mean to do that," he apologized -again, feeling embarrassed. - -Arkalion merely lay there. - -"I said I'm sorry." - -Arkalion still slept. It seemed inconceivable, for Temple's elbow -pained him considerably. He bent down, examined his inert companion. - -Arkalion stirred not a muscle. - -Vaguely alarmed, Temple thrust a hand to Arkalion's chest, felt -nothing. He crouched, rested the side of his head over Arkalion's -heart. He listened, heard--nothing. - -What was going on here? - -"Hey, Arkalion!" Temple shook him, gently at first, then with savage -force. Weightless, Arkalion's body floated up off the bed, taking the -covers with it. His own heart pounding furiously, Temple got it down -again, fingered the left wrist and swallowed nervously. - -Temple had never seen a dead man before. Arkalion's heart did not beat. -Arkalion had no pulse. - -Arkalion was dead. - -Yelling hoarsely, Temple plunged from the room, soaring off the floor -in his haste and striking his head against the ceiling hard enough to -make him see stars. "This guy is dead!" he cried. "Arkalion is dead." - -Men stirred in the companionway. Someone called for one of the armed -guards who were constantly on patrol. - -"If he's dead, you're yelling loud enough to get him out of his grave." -The voice was quiet, amused. - -Arkalion. - -"What?" Temple blurted, whirling around and striking his head again. A -little wild-eyed, he re-entered the room. - -"Now, who is dead, Kit?" demanded Arkalion, sitting up and stretching -comfortably. - -"Who--is dead? Who--?" Open-mouthed, Temple stared. - -A guard, completely at home with weightlessness, entered the cubicle -briskly. "What's the trouble in here? Something about a dead man, they -said." - -"A dead man?" demanded Arkalion. "Indeed." - -"Dead?" muttered Temple, lamely and foolishly. "Dead...." - -Arkalion smiled deprecatingly. "My friend must have been talking in -his sleep. The only thing dead in here is my appetite. Weightlessness -doesn't let you become very hungry." - -"You'll grow used to it," the guard promised. He patted his paunch -happily. "I am. Well, don't raise the alarm unless there's some -trouble. Remember about the boy who cried wolf." - -"Of course," said Temple. "Sure. Sorry." - -He watched the guard depart. - -"Bad dream?" Arkalion wanted to know. - -"Bad dream, my foot. I accidentally hit you. Hard enough to hurt. You -didn't move." - -"I'm a sound sleeper." - -"I felt for your heart. It wasn't beating. It wasn't!" - -"Oh, come, come." - -"Your heart was not beating, I said." - -"And I suppose I was cold as a slab of ice?" - -"Umm, no. I don't remember. Maybe you were. You had no pulse, either." - -Arkalion laughed easily. "And am I still dead?" - -"Well--" - -"Clearly a case of overwrought nerves and a highly keyed imagination. -What you need is some more sleep." - -"I'm not sleepy, thanks." - -"Well, I think I'll get up and go down for breakfast." Arkalion climbed -out of bed gingerly, made his way to the sink and was soon gargling -with a bottle of prepared mouthwash, occasionally spraying weightless -droplets of the pink liquid up at the ceiling. - -Temple lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, made his way to Arkalion's -bed while the man hummed tunelessly at the sink. Temple let his hands -fall on the sheet. It was not cold, but comfortably cool. Hardly as -warm as it should have been, with a man sleeping on it all night. - -Was he still imagining things? - -"I'm glad you didn't call for a burial detail and have me expelled into -space with yesterday's garbage," Arkalion called over his shoulder -jauntily as he went outside for some breakfast. - -Temple cursed softly and lit another cigarette, dropping the first one -into a disposal chute on the wall. - - * * * * * - -Every night thereafter, Temple made it a point to remain awake after -Arkalion apparently had fallen asleep. But if he were seeking -repetition of the peculiar occurrence, he was disappointed. Not only -did Arkalion sleep soundly and through the night, but he snored. Loudly -and clearly, a wheezing snore. - -Arkalion's strange feat--or his own overwrought imagination, Temple -thought wryly--was good for one thing: it took his mind off Stephanie. -The days wore on in endless, monotonous routine. He took some books -from the ship's library and browsed through them, even managing to find -one concerned with traumatic catalepsy, which stated that a severe -emotional shock might render one into a deep enough trance to have a -layman mistakenly pronounce him dead. But what had been the severe -emotional disturbance for Arkalion? Could the effects of weightlessness -manifest themselves in that way in rare instances? Temple naturally did -not know, but he resolved to find out if he could after reaching their -destination. - -One day--it was three weeks after they left the space station, Temple -realized--they were all called to assembly in the ship's large main -lounge. As the men drifted in, Temple was amazed to see the progress -they had made with weightlessness. He himself had advanced to handy -facility in locomotion, but it struck him all the more pointedly when -he saw two hundred men swim and float through air, pushing themselves -along by means of the hand-holds strategically placed along the walls. - -The ever-present microphone greeted them all. "Good afternoon, men." - -"Good afternoon, mac!" - -"Hey, is this the way to Ebbetts' Field?" - -"Get on with it!" - -"Sounds like the same man who addressed us in White Sands," Temple told -Arkalion. "He sure does get around." - -"A recording, probably. Listen." - -"Our destination, as you've probably read in newspapers and magazines, -is the planet Mars." - -Mutterings in the assembly, not many of surprise. - -"Their suppositions, based both on the seven hundred eighty day lapse -between Nowhere Journeys and the romantic position in which the planet -Mars has always been held, are correct. We are going to Mars. - -"For most of you, Mars will be a permanent home for many years to -come--" - -"Most of us?" Temple wondered out loud. - -Arkalion raised a finger to his lips for silence. - -"--until such time as you are rotated according to the policy of -rotation set up by the government." - -Temple had grown accustomed to the familiar hoots and catcalls. He -almost had an urge to join in himself. - -"Interesting," Arkalion pointed out. "Back at White Sands they claimed -not to know our destination. They knew it all right--up to a point. The -planet Mars. But now they say that all of us will not remain on Mars. -Most interesting." - -"--further indoctrination in our mission soon after our arrival on the -red planet. Landing will be performed under somewhat less strain than -the initial takeoff in the Earth-to-station ferry, since Mars exerts -less of a gravity pull than Earth. On the other hand, you have been -weightless for three weeks and the change-over is liable to make some -of you sick. It will pass harmlessly enough. - -"We realize it is difficult, being taken from your homes without -knowing the nature of your urgent mission. All I can tell you now--and, -as a matter of fact, all I know--" - -"Here we go again," said Temple. "More riddles." - -"--is that everything _is_ of the utmost urgency. Our entire way of -life is at stake. Our job will be to safeguard it. In the months which -follow, few of you will have any big, significant role to play, but all -of you, working together, will provide the strength we need. When the -_cadre_--" - -"So they call their guards teachers," Arkalion commented dryly. - -"--come around, they will see that each man is strapped properly into -his bunk for deceleration. Deceleration begins in twenty-seven minutes." - -_Mars_, thought Temple, back in his room with Arkalion. _Mars._ He did -not think of Stephanie, except as a man who knows he must spend the -rest of his life in prison might think of a lush green field, or the -cool swish of skis over fresh, powdery snow, or the sound of yardarms -creaking against the wind on a small sailing schooner, or the tang of -wieners roasting over an open fire with the crisp air of fall against -your back, or the scent of good French brandy, or a woman. - -Deceleration began promptly. Before his face was distorted and his eyes -forced shut by a pressure of four gravities, Temple had time to see the -look of complete unconcern on Arkalion's face. Arkalion, in fact, was -sleeping. - -He seemed as completely relaxed as he did that morning Temple thought -he was dead. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -"Petrovitch, S. A.!" called the Comrade standing abreast of the head -of the line, a thin, nervous man half a head shorter than the girl -herself. Sophia Androvna Petrovitch strode forward, took a pair of trim -white shorts from the neat stack at his left. - -"Is that all?" she said, looking at him. - -"Yes, Comrade. Well, a woman. Well." - -Without embarrassment, Sophia had seen the men ahead of her in line -strip and climb into the white shorts before they disappeared through a -portal ahead of the line, depositing their clothing in a growing pile -on the floor. But now it was Sophia's turn, after almost a two hour -wait. Not that it was chilly, but.... - -"Is that all?" she repeated. - -"Certainly. Strip and move along, Comrade." The nervous little man -appraised her lecherously, she thought. - -"Then I must keep some of my own clothing," she told him. - -"Impossible. I have my orders." - -"I am a woman." - -"You are a volunteer for the Stalintrek. You will take no personal -property--no clothing--with you. Strip and advance, please." - -Sophia flushed slightly, while the men behind her began to call and -taunt. - -"I like this Stalintrek." - -"Oh, yes." - -"We are waiting, Comrade." - -Quickly and with an objective detachment which surprised her, Sophia -unbuttoned her shirt, removed it. Her one wish--and an odd one, she -thought, smiling--was for wax for her ears. She loosened the three -snaps of her skirt, watched it fall to the floor. She stood there -briefly, lithe-limbed, a tall, slim girl, then had the white shorts -over her nakedness in one quick motion. She still wore a coarse halter. - -"All personal effects, Comrade," said the nervous little man. - -"No," Sophia told him. - -"But yes. Definitely, yes. You hold up the line, and we have a schedule -to maintain. The Stalintrek demands quick, prompt obedience." - -"Then you will give me one additional item of clothing." - -The man looked at Sophia's halter, at the fine way she filled it. He -shrugged. "We don't have it," he said, clearly enjoying himself. - -In volunteering for the Stalintrek, Sophia had invaded man's domain. -She had watched not with embarrassment but with scorn while the men in -front of her got out of their clothing. She had invaded man's domain, -and as she watched them, the short flabby ones, the bony ones with -protruding ribs and collar-bones, those of milky white skin and soft -hands, she knew most of them would bite off more than they could chew -if ever they tried what was the most natural thing for men to try with -a lone woman in an isolated environment. But she _was_ in a man's world -now, and if that was the way they wanted it, she would ask no quarter. - -She reached up quickly with one hand and unfastened the halter, -catching it with her free hand and holding it in front of her breasts -while the nervous little man licked his lips and gaped. Sophia grabbed -another pair of the white shorts, tore it quickly with her strong -fingers, fashioning a crude covering for herself. This she pulled -around her, fastening it securely with a knot in back. - -"You'll have to give that back to me," declared the nervous little -Comrade. - -"I'll bet you a samovar on that," Sophia said quietly, so only the man -heard her. - -He reached out, as if to rip the crude halter from her body, but Sophia -met him halfway with her strong, slim fingers, wrapping them around -his biceps and squeezing. The man's face turned quickly to white as he -tried unsuccessfully to free his arm. - -"Please, that hurts." - -"I keep what I am wearing." She tightened her grip, but gazed serenely -into space as the man stifled a whimper. - -"Well--" the man whispered indecisively as he gritted his teeth. - -"Fool!" said Sophia. "Your arm will be black and blue for a week. While -you men grow soft and lazy, many of the women take their gymnastics -seriously, especially if they want to keep their figures with the work -they must do and the food they must eat. I am stronger than you and I -will hurt you unless--" And her hand tightened around his scrawny arm -until her knuckles showed white. - -"Wear what you have and go," the man pleaded, and moaned softly when -Sophia released his numb arm and strode through the portal, still -drawing whistles and leers from the other men, who missed the by-play -completely. - - * * * * * - -"So we're on Mars!" - -"It ain't Nowhere after all, it's Mars." - -"Wait and see, buster. Wait and see." - -"Kind of cold, isn't it? Well, if this was Venus and some of them -beautiful one-armed dames was waiting for us--" - -"That's just a statue, stupid." - -"Lookit all them people down there, will you?" - -"You think they're Martians?" - -"Stupid! We ain't the first ones went on the Nowhere Journey." - -"What are we waiting for? It sure will feel good to stretch your legs." - -"Let's go!" - -"Look out, Mars, here I come!" - -It would have been just right for a Hollywood epic, Temple thought. -The rusty ochre emptiness spreading out toward the horizon in all -directions, spotted occasionally with pale green and frosty white, the -sky gray with but a shade of blue in it, distant gusts of Martian wind -swirling ochre clouds across the desert, the spaceship poised on its -ungainly bottom, a great silver bowling ball with rocket tubes for -finger holes, and the Martians from Earth who had been here on this -alien world for seven-hundred-eighty days or twice seven-eighty or -three times, and who fought in frenzied eagerness, like savages, to -reach the descending gangplank first. - -Earth chorus: Hey, Martians, any of you guys speak English? Hah-ha, I -said, any of you guys.... - -Where are all them canals I heard so much about? - -You think maybe they're dangerous? (Laughter) - -No dames. Hey, no dames.... - -Who were you expecting, Donna Daunley? - -What kind of place is Mars with no women? - -What do they do here, anyway, just sit around and wait for the next -rocket? - -I'm cold. - -Get used to it, brother, get used to it. - -Look out, Mars, here I come! - -Martian chorus: Who won the Series last year, Detroit? - -Hey, bud, tell me, are dames still wearing those one piece things, all -colors, so you see their legs up to about here and their chests down to -about here? (Gestures lewdly) - -Which one of you guys can tell me what it's like to take a bath? I mean -a real bath in a real bath tub. - -Hey, we licked Russia yet? - -We heard they were gonna send some dames! - -Dames--ha-ha, you're breaking my heart. - -Tell me what a steak tastes like. So thick. - -Me? Gimme a bowl of steamed oysters. And a dame. - -Dames. Girls. Women. Females. Chicks. Tomatoes. Frails. Dames. Dames. -Dames.... - -They did not seem to mind the cold, these Earth-Martians. Temple -guessed they never spent much time out of doors (above ground, for -there were no buildings?) because all seemed pale and white. While the -sun was weaker, so was the protection offered by a thinner atmosphere. -The sun's actinic rays could burn, and so could the sand-driving wind. -But pale skins could not be the result of staying indoors, for Temple -noted the lack of man-made structures at once. Underground, then. -The Earth-Martians lived underground like moles. Doing what? And for -what reason? With what ultimate goal, if any? And where did those men -who did not remain on Mars go? Temple's head whirled with countless -questions--and no answers. - -Shoulder to shoulder with Arkalion, he made his way down the gangplank, -turning up the collar of his jumper against the stinging wind. - -"You got any newspapers, pal?" - -"Magazines?" - -"Phonograph records?" - -"Gossip?" - -"Newsfilm?" - -"Who's the heavyweight champ?" - -"We lick those Commies in Burma yet?" - -"Step back! Watch that man. Maybe he's your replacement." - - -"Replacement. Ha-ha. That's good." - -All types of men. All ages. In torn, tattered clothing, mostly. In -rags. Even if a man seemed more well-groomed than the rest, on closer -examination Temple could see the careful stitching, the patches, the -fades and stains. No one seemed to mind. - -"Hey, bud. What do you hear about rotation? They passed any laws yet?" - -"I been here ten years. When do _I_ get rotated?" - -"Ain't that something? Dad Jenks came here with the first ship. Don't -you talk about rotation. Ask Dad." - -"Better not mention that word to Dad Jenks. He sees red." - -"This whole damn planet is red." - -"Want a guided tour of Nowhere, men? Step right up." - -Arkalion grinned. "They seem so well-adjusted," he said, then shuddered -against the cold and followed Temple, with the others, through the -crowd. - -They were inoculated against nameless diseases. (Watch for the needle -with the hook) - -They were told again they had arrived on the planet Mars. (No kidding?) - -Led to a drab underground city, dimly lit, dank, noisome with mold and -mildew. (Quick, the chlorophyll) - -Assigned bunks in a dormitory, with four men to a room. (Be it ever so -humble--bah!) - -Told to keep things clean and assigned temporarily to a garbage pickup -detail. (For this I left Sheboygan?) - -Read to from the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and -Public Law 1182 (concerned with the Nowhere Journey, it told them -nothing they did not already know). - -Given as complete a battery of tests, mental, emotional and physical, -as Temple ever knew existed. (Cripes, man! How the hell should I know -what the cube root of -5 is? I never finished high school!) - -Subjected to an exhaustive, overlong, and at times meaningless personal -interview. (No doc, honest. I never knew I had a--uh--anxiety neurosis. -Is it dangerous?) - -"How do you do, Temple? Sit down." - -"Thank you." - -"Thought you'd like to know that while your overall test score is not -uncanny, it's decidedly high." - -"So what?" - -"So nothing--not necessarily. Except that with it you have a very well -balanced personality. We can use you, Temple." - -"That's why I'm here." - -"I mean--elsewhere. Mars is only a way station, a training center for a -select few. It takes an awful lot of administrative work to keep this -place going, which explains the need for all the station personnel." - -"Listen. The last few weeks I had everything thrown at me. Everything, -the works. Mind answering one question?" - -"Shoot." - -"What's this all about?" - -"Temple, I don't know!" - -"You what?" - -"I know you find it hard to believe, but I don't. There isn't a man -here on Mars who knows the whole story, either--and certainly not on -Earth. We know enough to keep everything in operation. And we know it's -important, all of it, everything we do." - -"You mentioned a need for some men elsewhere. Where?" - -The psychiatrist shrugged. "I don't know. Somewhere. Anywhere." He -spread his hands out eloquently. "That's where the Nowhere Journey -comes in." - -"Surely you can tell me something more than--" - -"Absolutely not. It isn't that I don't want to. I can't. I don't know." - -"Well, one more question I'd like you to answer." - -The psychiatrist lit a cigarette, grinned. "Say, who is interviewing -whom?" - -"This one I think you can tackle. I have a brother, Jason Temple. -Embarked on the Nowhere Journey five years ago. I wonder--" - -"So that's the one factor in your psychograph we couldn't figure -out--anxiety over your brother." - -"I doubt it," shrugged Temple. "More likely my fiancee." - -"Umm, common enough. You were to be married?" - -"Yes." _Stephanie, what are you doing now? Right now?_ - -"That's what hurts the most.... Well, yes, I can find out about your -brother." The psychiatrist flicked a toggle on his desk. "Jamison, find -what you can on Temple, Jason, year of--" - -"1987," Temple supplied. - -"1987. We'll wait." - -After a moment or two, the voice came through, faintly metallic: -"Temple, Jason. Arrival: 1987. Psychograph, 115-bl2. Mental aggregate, -98. Physcom, good to excellent. Training: two years, space perception -concentrate, others. Shipped out: 1989." - -So Jase had shipped out for--Nowhere. - -"Someday you'll follow in your brother's footsteps, Temple. Now, -though, I have a few hundred questions I'd like you to answer." - -The psychiatrist hadn't exaggerated. Several hours of questioning -followed. Once reminded of her, Temple found it hard to keep his -thought off Stephanie. - -He left the psychiatrist's office more confused than ever. - - * * * * * - -"Good morning, child. You are Stephanie Andrews?" Stephanie hadn't -felt up to working that first morning after Kit's final goodbye. She -answered the door in her bathrobe, saw a small, middle-aged woman with -graying hair and a kind face. "That's right. Won't you come in?" - -"Thank you. I represent the Complete Emancipation League, Miss Andrews." - -"Complete Emancipation League? Oh, something to do with politics. -Really, I'm not much interested in--" - -"That's entirely the trouble," declared the older woman. "Too many of -us are not interested in politics. I'd like to discuss the C.E.L. with -you, my dear, if you will bear with me a few minutes." - -"All right," said Stephanie. "Would you like a glass of sherry?" - -"In the morning?" the older woman smiled. - -"I'm sorry. Don't mind me. My fiance left yesterday, took his final -goodbye. He--he embarked on the Nowhere Journey." - -"I realize that. It is precisely why I am here. My dear, the C.E.L. -does not want to fight the government. If the government decides that -the Nowhere Journey is vital for the welfare of the country--even -if the government won't or can't explain what the Nowhere Journey -is--that's all right with us. But if the government says there is a -rotation system but does absolutely nothing about it, we're interested -in that. Do you follow me?" - -"Yes!" cried Stephanie. "Oh, yes. Go on." - -"The C.E.L. has sixty-eight people in Congress for the current term. -We hope to raise that number to seventy-five for next election. It's -a long fight, a slow uphill fight, and frankly, my dear, we need all -the help we can get. People--young women like yourself, my dear--are -entirely too lethargic, if you'll forgive me." - -"You ought to forgive _me_," said Stephanie, "if you will. You know, -it's funny. I had vague ideas about helping Kit, about finding some way -to get him back. Only to tackle something like that alone.... I'm only -twenty-one, just a girl, and I don't know anyone important. No one ever -comes back, that's what you hear. But there's a rotation system, you -also hear that. If I can be of any help...." - -"You certainly can, my dear. We'd be delighted to have you." - -"Then, eventually, maybe, just maybe, we'll start getting them rotated -home?" - -"We can't promise a thing. We can only try. And I never did say we'd -try to get the boys rotated, my dear. There is a rotation system in -the law, right there in Public Law 1182. But if no men have ever been -rotated, there must be a reason for it." - -"Yes, but--" - -"But we'll see. If for some reason rotation simply is not practicable, -we'll find another way. Which is why we call ourselves the -C.E.L.--Complete Emancipation League--for women. If men must embark on -the Nowhere Journey--the least they can do is let their women volunteer -to go along with them if they want to--since it may be forever. Let a -bunch of women get to this Nowhere place and you'll never know what -might happen, that's what I say." - -Something about the gray haired woman's earthly confidence imbued -Stephanie with an optimism she never expected. "Well," she said, -smiling, "if we can't bring ourselves to Mohammed.... No, that's all -wrong!... to the mountain...?" - -"Yes, there's an old saying. But it isn't important. You get the idea. -My dear, how would you like to go to Nowhere?" - -"I--to Kit, anywhere, anywhere!" _I'll never forget yesterday, Kit -darling. Never!_ - -"I make no promises, Stephanie, but it may be sooner than you think. -Morning be hanged, perhaps I will have some sherry after all. Umm, you -wouldn't by any chance have some Canadian instead?" - -Humming, Stephanie dashed into the kitchen for some glasses. - - * * * * * - -There were times when the real Alaric Arkalion III wished his father -would mind his own business. Like that thing about the Nowhere Journey, -for instance. Maybe Alaric Sr. didn't realize it, but being the spoiled -son of a billionaire wasn't all fun. "I'm a dilettante," Alaric would -tell himself often, gazing in the mirror, "a bored dilettante at the -age of twenty-one." - -Which in itself, he had to admit, wasn't too bad. But having reneged -on the Nowhere Journey in favor of a stranger twice his age who now -carried his, Alaric's face, had engendered some annoying complications. -"You'll either have to hide or change your own appearance and identity, -Alaric." - -"Hide? For how long, father?" - -"I can't be sure. Years, probably." - -"That's crazy. I'm not going to hide for years." - -"Then change your appearance. Your way of life. Your occupation." - -"I have no occupation." - -"Get one. Change your face, too. Your fingerprints. It can be done. -Become a new man, live a new life." - -In hiding there was boredom, impossible boredom. In the other -alternative there was adventure, intrigue--but uncertainty. One part of -young Alaric craved that uncertainty, the rest of him shunned it. In a -way it was like the Nowhere Journey all over again. - -"Maybe Nowhere wouldn't have been so bad," said Alaric to his father, -choosing as a temporary alternative and retreat what he knew couldn't -possibly happen. - -Couldn't it? - -"If I choose another identity, I'd be eligible again for the Nowhere -Journey." - -"By George, I hadn't considered that. No, wait. You could be older than -twenty-six." - -"I like it the way I am," Alaric said, pouting. - -"Then you'll have to hide. I spent ten million dollars to secure your -future, Alaric. I don't want you to throw it away." - -Alaric pouted some more. "Let me think about it." - -"Fair enough, but I'll want your answer tomorrow. Meanwhile, you are -not to leave the house." - -Alaric agreed verbally, but took the first opportunity which presented -itself--that very night--to sneak out the servants' door, go downtown, -and get stewed to the gills. - -At two in the morning he was picked up by the police for disorderly -conduct (it had happened before) after losing a fistfight to a much -poorer, much meaner drunk in a downtown bar. They questioned Alaric at -the police station, examined his belongings, went through his wallet, -notified his home. - -Fuming, Alaric Sr. rushed to the police station to get his son. He was -met by the desk sergeant, a fat, balding man who wore his uniform in a -slovenly fashion. - -"Mr. Arkalion?" demanded the sergeant, picking at his teeth with a -toothpick. - -"Yes. I have come for Alaric, my son." - -"Sure. Sure. But your son's in trouble, Mr. Arkalion. Serious trouble." - -"What are you talking about? If there are any damages, I'll pay. He -didn't--hurt, anyone, did he?" - -The sergeant broke the toothpick between his teeth, laughed. "Him? Naw. -He got the hell beat out of him by a drunk half his size. It ain't that -kind of trouble, Mr. Arkalion. You know what an 1182 card is, mister?" - -Arkalion's face drained white. "Why--yes." - -"Alaric's got one." - -"Naturally." - -"According to the card, he should have shipped out on the Nowhere -Journey, mister. He didn't. He's in serious trouble." - -"I'll see the district attorney." - -"More'n likely, you'll see the attorney general. Serious trouble." - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -The trouble with the Stalintrek, Sophia thought, was that it took -months to get absolutely nowhere. There had been the painful pressure, -the loss of consciousness, the confinement in this tight little world -of dormitories and gleaming metal walls, the uncanny feeling of no -weight, the ability--boring after a while, but interesting at first--to -float about in air almost at will. - -Then, how many months of sameness? Sophia had lost all track of time -through _ennui_. But for the first brief period of adjustment on the -part of her fellows to the fact that although she was a woman and -shared their man's life she was still to be inviolate, the routine -had been anything but exciting. The period of adjustment had had its -adventures, its uncertainties, its challenge, and to Sophia it had been -stimulating. Why was it, she wondered, that the men who carried their -sex with strength and dignity, the hard-muscled men who could have -their way with her if they resorted to force were the men who did not -violate her privacy, while the weaklings, the softer, smaller men, or -the average men whom Sophia considered her physical equals were the -ones who gave her trouble? - -She had always accepted her beauty, the obvious attraction men found in -her, with an objective unconcern. She had been endowed with sex appeal; -there was not much room in her life to exploit it, even had she wanted -to. Now, now when she wanted anything but that, it gave her trouble. - -Her room was shared, of necessity, with three men. Tall, gangling -Boris gave her no trouble, turned his back when she undressed for the -evening, even though she was careful to slip under the covers first. -Ivan, the second man, was short, thin, stooped. Often she found him -looking at her with what might have been more than a healthy interest, -but aside from that he kept his peace. Besides, Ivan had spent -two years in secondary school (as much as Sophia) and she enjoyed -conversing with him. - -The third man, Georgi, was the troublemaker. Georgi was one of those -plump young men with red cheeks, big, eager eyes, a voice somewhat too -high. He was an avid talker, a boaster and a bore. In the beginning he -showered attentions on Sophia. He insisted on drawing her wash-basin -at night, escorted her to breakfast every morning, told her in -confidence of the conquests he had made over beautiful women (but not -as beautiful as you, Sophia). He soon began to take liberties. He would -sit--timorously at first, but with growing boldness--on the corner of -her bed, talking with her at night after the others had retired, Ivan -with his snores, Boris with his strong, deep breathing. And night after -night, plump Georgi grew bolder. - -He would reach out and touch Sophia, he would insist on tucking her -in at night (let me be your big brother), he would awaken her in the -morning with his hand heavy on her shoulder. Finally, one night at -bedtime, she heard him conversing in low whispers with Ivan and Boris. -She could not hear the words, but Boris looked at her with what she -thought was surprise, Ivan nodded in an understanding way, and both of -them left the room. - -Sophia frowned. "What did you tell them, Georgi?" - -"That we wanted to be alone one evening, of course." - -"I never gave you any indication--" - -"I could see it in your eyes, in the way you looked at me." - -"Well, you had better call them back inside and go to bed." - -Georgi shook his head, approached her. - -"Georgi! Call them back or I will." - -"No, you won't." Georgi followed her as she retreated into a corner of -the room. When she reached the wall and could retreat no further, he -placed his thick hands on her shoulders, drew her to him slowly. "You -will call no one," he rasped. - -She ducked under his arms, eluded him, was on the point of running to -the door, throwing it open and shouting, when she considered. If she -did, she would be asking for quarter, gaining a temporary reprieve, -inviting the same sort of thing all over again. - -She crossed to the bed and sat down. "Come here, Georgi." - -"Ah." He came to her. - -She watched him warily, a soft flabby man not quite so tall as she -was, but who nevertheless outweighed her by thirty or forty pounds. In -his eagerness, he walked too fast, lost his footing and floated gently -to the ceiling. Smiling as demurely as she could, Sophia reached up, -circled his ankle with her hand. - -"I never could get used to this weightlessness," Georgi admitted. "Be -nice and pull me down." - -"I will be nice. I will teach you a lesson." - -He weighed exactly nothing. It was as simple as stretching. Sophia -merely extended her arm upwards and Georgi's head hit the ceiling with -a loud _thunk_. Georgi groaned. Sophia repeated the procedure, lowering -her arm a foot--and Georgi with it--then raising it and bouncing his -head off the ceiling. - -"I don't understand," Georgi whined, trying to break free but only -succeeding in thrashing his chubby arms foolishly. - -"You haven't mastered weightlessness," Sophia smiled up at him. "I -have. I said I would teach you a lesson. First make sure you have the -strength of a man if you would play a man's game." - -Still smiling, Sophia commenced spinning the hand which held Georgi's -ankle. Arms and free leg flailing air helplessly, Georgi began to spin. - -"Put me down!" he whined, a boy now, not even pretending to be a man. -When Sophia shoved out gently and let his ankle go he did a neat flip -in air and hung suspended, upside down, his feet near the ceiling, his -head on a level with Sophia's shoulders. He cried. - -She slapped his upside down face, carefully and without excitement, -reddening the cheeks. "I was--only joking," he slobbered. "Call back -our friends." - -Sophia found one of the hard, air-tight metal flasks they used for -drinking in weightlessness. With one hand she opened the lid, with the -other she grasped Georgi's shoulder and spun him in air, still upside -down. She squirted the water in his face, and because he was upside -down and yelling it made him choke and cough. When the container was -empty she lowered Georgi gently to the floor. - -Minutes later, she opened the door, summoned Boris and Ivan, who came -into the room self-consciously. What they found was a thoroughly -beaten Georgi sobbing on the floor. After that, Sophia had no trouble. -Week after week of boredom followed and she almost wished Georgi or -someone else would _look_ for trouble ... even if it were something -she could not handle, for although she was stronger than average and -more beautiful, she was still a woman first, and she knew if the right -man.... - - * * * * * - -"Did you know that radio communication is maintained between Earth and -Mars?" the Alaric Arkalion on Mars asked Temple. - -"Why, no. I never thought about it." - -"It is, and I am in some difficulty." - -"What's the matter?" Temple had grown to like Arkalion, despite the -man's peculiarities. He had given up trying to figure him out, feeling -that the only way he'd get anywhere was with Arkalion's cooperation. - -"It's a long story which I'm afraid you would not altogether -understand. The authorities on Earth don't think I belong here on the -Nowhere Journey." - -"Is that so? A mistake, huh? I sure am glad for you, Alaric." - -"That's not the difficulty. It seems that there is the matter of -impersonation, of violating some of the clauses in Public Law 1182. -You're glad for me. I'm likely to go to prison." - -"If it's that serious, how come they told you?" - -"They didn't. But I--managed to find out. I won't go into details, -Kit, but obviously, if I managed to embark for Nowhere when I didn't -have to, then I wanted to go. Right?" - -"I--uh, guess so. But why--?" - -"That isn't the point. I _still_ want to go. Not to Mars, but to -Nowhere. I still can, despite what has happened, but I need help." - -Temple said, "Anything I can do, I'll be glad to," and meant it. For -one thing, he liked Arkalion. For another, Arkalion seemed to know -more, much more than he would ever say--unless Temple could win his -confidence. For a third, Temple was growing sick and tired of Mars -with its drab ochre sameness (when he got to the surface, which was -rarely), with its dank underground city, with its meaningless attention -to meaningless detail. Either way, he figured there was no returning to -Earth. If Nowhere meant adventure, as he suspected it might, it would -be preferable. Mars might have been the other end of the galaxy for all -its nearness to Earth, anyway. - -"There is a great deal you can do. But you'll have to come with me." - -"Where?" Temple demanded. - -"Where you will go eventually. To Nowhere." - -"Fine." And Temple smiled. "Why not now as well as later?" - -"I'll be frank with you. If you go now, you go untrained. You may need -your training. Undoubtedly, you will." - -"You know a lot more than you want to talk about, don't you?" - -"Frankly, yes.... I am sorry, Kit." - -"That's all right. You have your reasons. I guess if I go with you I'll -find out soon enough, anyway." - -Arkalion grinned. "You have guessed correctly. I am going to Nowhere, -before they return me to Earth for prosecution under Public Law 1182. I -cannot go alone, for it takes at least two to operate ... well, you'll -see." - -"Count me in," said Temple. - -"Remember, you may one day wish you had remained on Mars for your -training." - -"I'll take my chances. Mars is driving me crazy. All I do is think of -Earth and Stephanie." - -"Then come." - -"Where are we going?" - -"A long, long way off. It is unthinkably remote, this place called -Nowhere." - -Temple felt suddenly like a kid playing hookey from school. "Lead -on," he said, almost jauntily. He knew he was leaving Stephanie still -further behind, but had he been in prison on the next street to hers, -he might as well have been a million miles away. - -As for Arkalion--the thought suddenly struck Temple--Arkalion wasn't -necessarily leaving his world further behind. Perhaps Arkalion was -going home.... - - * * * * * - -Stephanie picked up the phone eagerly. In the weeks since her first -meeting with Mrs. Draper of the C.E.L., the older woman had been a -fountain of information and of hope for her. Stephanie for her part had -taken over Mrs. Draper's job in her own section of Center City: she was -busy contacting the two hundred mothers and fifty sweethearts of the -Nowhere Journey which had taken Kit from her. And now Mrs. Draper had -called with information. - -"We've successfully combined forces with some of the less militant -elements in both houses of Congress," Mrs. Draper told her over the -phone. "Do you realize, my dear, this marks the first time the C.E.L. -has managed to put something constructive through Congress? Until now -we've been content merely to block legislation, such as an increase in -the Nowhere contingent from...." - -"Yes, Mrs. Draper. I know all that. But what about this constructive -thing you've done." - -"Well, my dear, don't count your chickens. But we _have_ passed the -bill, and we expect the President won't veto it. You see, the President -has two nephews who...." - -"I know. I know. What bill did you pass?" - -"Unfortunately, it's somewhat vague. Ultimately, the Nowhere Commission -must do the deciding, but it does pave the way." - -"For what, Mrs. Draper?" - -"Hold onto your hat, my dear. The bill authorizes the Nowhere -Commission to make as much of a study as it can of conditions--wherever -our boys are sent." - -"Oh." Stephanie was disappointed. "That won't get them back to us." - -"No. You're right, it won't get them back to us. That isn't the idea at -all, for there is more than one way to skin a cat, my dear. The Nowhere -Commission will be studying conditions--" - -"How can they? I thought everything was so hush-hush, not even Congress -knew anything about it." - -"That was the first big hurdle we have apparently overcome. Anyway, -they will be studying conditions with a view of determining if one -girl--just one, mind you--can embark on the Nowhere Journey as a pilot -study and--" - -"But I thought they could make the journey only once every -seven-hundred-eighty days." - -"Get Congress aroused and you can move mountains. It seems the expense -entailed in a trip at any but those times is generally prohibitive, but -when something special comes up--" - -"It can be done! Mrs. Draper, how I love to talk with you!" - -"See? There you go, my dear, counting your chickens. One girl will be -sent, if the study indicates she can take it. One girl, Stephanie, and -only after a study. She'd merely be a pilot case. But afterwards.... -Ah, afterwards.... Perhaps someday soon qualified women will be able -to join their men in Nowhere." - -"Mrs. Draper, I love you." - -"Naturally, you will tell all this to prospective C.E.L. members. Now -we have something concrete to work with." - -"I know. And I will, I will, Mrs. Draper. By the way, how are they -going to pick the girl, the one girl?" - -"Don't count your chickens, for Heaven's sake! They haven't even -studied the situation yet. Well, I'll call you, my dear." - -Stephanie hung up, dressed, went about her canvassing. She thought -happy thoughts all week. - - * * * * * - -"Shh! Quiet," cautioned Arkalion, leading the way down a flight of -heavy-duty plastic stairs. - -"How do you know your way around here so well?" - -"I said quiet." - -It was not so much, Temple realized, that Arkalion was really afraid of -making noise. Rather, he did not want to answer questions. - -Temple smiled in the semi-darkness, heard the steady drip-drip-drip of -water off somewhere to his left. Eons before the coming of man on this -stopover point to Nowhere, the Martian waters had retreated from the -planet's ancient surface and seeped underground to carve, slow drop by -drop, the caverns which honey-combed the planet. "You know your way -around so well, I'd swear you were a Martian." - -Arkalion's soft laugh carried far. "I said there was to be no noise. -Please! As for the Martians, the only Martians are here all around you, -the men of Earth. Ahh, here we are." - -At the bottom of the flight of stairs Temple could see a door, -metallic, giving the impression of strength without great weight. -Arkalion paused a moment, did something with a series of levers, shook -his head impatiently, started all over again. - -"What's that for?" Temple wanted to know. - -"What do you think? It is a combination lock, with five million -possible combinations. Do you want to be here for all of eternity?" - -"No." - -"Then quiet." - -Vaguely, Temple wondered why the door wasn't guarded. - -"With a lock like this," Arkalion explained, as if he had read Temple's -thought, "they need no other precaution. It is assumed that only -authorized personnel know the combination." - -Then had Arkalion come this way before? It seemed the only possible -assumption. But when? And how? "Here we are," said Arkalion. - -The door swung in toward them. - -Temple strode forward, found himself in a great bare hall, surprisingly -well-lighted. After the dimness of the caverns, he hardly could see. - -"Don't stand there scowling and fussing with your eyes. There is one -additional precaution--an alarm at Central Headquarters. We have about -five minutes, no more." - -At one end of the bare hall stood what to Temple looked for all the -world like an old-fashioned telephone booth, except that its walls were -completely opaque. On the wall adjacent to it was a single lever with -two positions marked "hold" and "transport". The lever stood firmly in -the "hold" position. - -"You sure you want to come?" Arkalion demanded. - -"Yes, I told you that." - -"Good. I have no time to explain. I will enter the conveyor." - -"Conveyor?" - -"This booth. You will wait until the door is shut, then pull the lever -down. That is all there is to it, but, as you can see, it is a two-man -operation." - -"But how do I--" - -"Haste, haste! There are similar controls at the other end. You pull -the lever, wait two minutes, enter the conveyor yourself. I will fetch -you--if you are sure." - -"I'm sure, dammit!" - -"Remember, you go without training, without the opportunity everyone -else has." - -"You already told me that. Mars is halfway to eternity. Mars is limbo. -If I can't go back to Earth I want to go--well, to Nowhere. There are -too many ghosts here, too many memories with nothing to do." - -Arkalion shrugged, entered the booth. "Pull the lever," he said, and -shut the door. - -Temple reached up, grasped the lever firmly in his hand, yanked it. It -slid smoothly to the position marked "transport." Temple heard nothing, -saw nothing, began to think the device, whatever it was, did not work. -Did Arkalion somehow get _moved_ inside the booth? - -Temple thought he heard footfalls on the stairs outside. Soon, faintly, -he could hear voices. Someone banged on the door to the hall. Licking -dry lips, Temple opened the booth, peered inside. - -Empty. - -The voices clamored, fists pounded on the door. Something clicked. -Tumblers fell. The door to the great, bright hall sprung outward. -Someone rushed in at Temple, who met him savagely with a short, -chopping blow to his jaw. The man, temporarily blinded by the dazzling -light, stumbled back in the path of his fellows. - -Temple darted into the booth, the conveyor, and slammed it shut. -Fingers clawed on the outside. - -A sound almost too intense to be heard rang in Temple's ears. He lost -consciousness instantly. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -"What a cockeyed world," said Alaric Arkalion Sr. to his son. "You -certainly can't plan on anything, even if you do have more money than -you'll ever possibly need in a lifetime." - -"Don't feel like that," said young Alaric. "I'm not in prison any -longer, am I?" - -"No. But you're not free of the Nowhere Journey, either. There is an -unheralded special trip to Nowhere, two weeks from today, I have been -informed." - -"Oh?" - -"Yes, oh. I have also been informed that you will be on it. You didn't -escape after all, Alaric." - -"Oh. Oh!" - -"What bothers me most is that scoundrel Smith somehow managed to -escape. They haven't found him yet, I have also been informed. And -since my contract with him calls for ten million dollars 'for services -rendered,' I'll have to pay." - -"But he didn't prevent me from--" - -"I can't air this thing, Alaric! But listen, son: when you go where you -are going, you're liable to find another Alaric Arkalion, your double. -Of course, that would be Smith. If you can get him to cut his price in -half because of what has happened, I would be delighted. If you could -somehow manage to wring his neck, I would be even more delighted. Ten -million dollars--for nothing." - -"I'm so excited," murmured Mrs. Draper. Stephanie watched her on one of -the new televiewers, recently installed in place of the telephone. - -"What is it?" - -"Our bill has been passed by a landslide majority in both houses of -Congress!" - -"Ooo!" cried Stephanie. - -"Not very coherent, my dear, but those are my sentiments exactly. In -two weeks there will be a Journey to Nowhere, a special one which will -include, among its passengers, a woman." - -"But the study which had to be made--?" - -"It's already been made. From what I gather, they can't take it very -far. Most of their conclusions had to be based on supposition. The -important thing, though, is this: a woman _will_ be sent. The way the -C.E.L. figures it, my dear, is that a woman falling in the twenty-one -to twenty-six age group should be chosen, a woman who meets all the -requirements placed upon the young men." - -"Yes," said Stephanie. "Of course. And I was just thinking that I would -be--" - -"Remember those chickens!" cautioned Mrs. Draper. "We already have one -hundred seventy-seven volunteers who'd claw each other to pieces for a -chance to go." - -"Wrong," Stephanie said, smiling. "You now have one hundred -seventy-eight." - -"Room for only one, my dear. Only one, you know." - -"Then cross the others off your list. I'm already packing my bag." - - * * * * * - -When Temple regained consciousness, it was with the feeling that no -more than a split second of time had elapsed. So much had happened so -rapidly that, until now, he hadn't had time to consider it. - -Arkalion had vanished. - -Vanished--he could use no other word. He was there, standing in the -booth--and then he wasn't. Simple as that. Now you see it, now you -don't. And goodbye, Arkalion. - -But goodbye Temple, too. For hadn't Temple entered the same booth, -waiting but a second until Arkalion activated the mechanism at the -other end? And certainly Temple wasn't in the booth now. He smiled at -the ridiculously simple logic of his thoughts. He stood in an open -field, the blades of grass rising to his knees, as much brilliant -purple as they were green. Waves of the grass, stirred like tide by -the gentle wind, and hills rolling off toward the horizon in whichever -direction he turned. Far away, the undulating hills lifted to a half -soft mauve sky. A somber red sun with twice Sol's apparent disc but -half its brightness hung mid-way between zenith and horizon completing -the picture of peaceful other-worldliness. - -Wherever this was, it wasn't Earth--or Mars. - -Nowhere? - -Temple shrugged, started walking. He chose his direction at random, -crushing an easily discernible path behind him in the surprisingly -brittle grass. The warm sun baked his back comfortably, the -soft-stirring wind caressed his cheeks. Of Arkalion he found not a -trace. - -Two hours later Temple reached the hills and started climbing their -gentle slopes. It was then that he saw the figure approaching on the -run. It took him fully half a minute to realize that the runner was not -human. - - * * * * * - -After months of weightless inactivity, things started to happen for -Sophia. The feeling of weight returned, but weight as she never had -felt it before. It was as if someone was sitting on every inch of her -body, crushing her down. It made her gasp, forced her eyes shut and, -although she could not see it, contorted her face horribly. She lost -consciousness, coming to some time later with a dreadful feeling of -loginess. Someone swam into her vision dimly, stung her arm briefly -with a needle. She slept. - -She was on a table, stretched out, with lights glaring down at her. She -heard voices. - -"The new system is far better than testing, comrade." - -"Far more efficient, far more objective. Yes." - -"The brain emits electromagnetic vibration. Strange, is it not, that no -one before ever imagined it could tell a story. A completely accurate -story two years of testing could not give us." - -"In Russia we have gone far with the biological, psychological -sciences. The West flies high with physics. Give them Mars; bah, they -can have Mars." - -"True, Comrade. The journey to Jupiter is greater, the time consumed -is longer, the cost, more expensive. But here on Jupiter we can do -something they cannot do on Mars." - -"I know." - -"We can make supermen. Supermen, comrade. A wedding of Nietzsche and -Marx." - -"Careful. Those are dangerous thoughts." - -"Merely an allusion, comrade. Merely a harmless allusion. But you -take an ordinary human being and train him on Jupiter, speeding his -time-sense and metabolic rate tremendously with certain endocrine -secretions so that one day is as a month to him. You take him and -subject him to big Jupiter's pull of gravity, more than twice -Earth's--and in three weeks you have, yes--you have a superman." - -"The woman wakes." - -"Shh. Do not frighten her." - -Sophia stretched, every muscle in her body aching. Slowly, as in a -dream, she sat up. It required strength, the mere act of pulling her -torso upright! - -"What have you done to me?" she cried, focusing her still-dim vision on -the two men. - -"Nothing, comrade. Relax." - -Sophia turned slowly on the table, got one long shapely leg draped over -its edge. - -"Careful, comrade." - -What were they warning her about? She merely wanted to get up and -stretch; perhaps then she would feel better. Her toe touched the floor, -she swung her other leg over, aware of but ignoring her nakedness. - -"A good specimen." - -"Oh, yes, comrade. So this time they send a woman among the others. -Well, we shall do our work. Look--see the way she is formed, so lithe, -loose-limbed, agile. See the toning of the muscles? Her beauty will -remain, comrade, but Jupiter shall make an amazon of her." - -Sophia had both feet on the floor now. She was breathing hard, felt -suddenly sick to her stomach. Placing both her hands on the table edge, -she pushed off and staggered for two or three paces. She crumpled, -buckling first at the knees then the waist and fell in a writhing heap. - -"Pick her up." - -Hands under her arms, tugging. She came off the floor easily, dimly -aware that someone carried her hundred and thirty pounds effortlessly. -"Put me down!" she cried. "I want to try again. I am crippled, -crippled! You have crippled me...." - -"Nothing of the sort, comrade. You are tired, weak, and Jupiter's -gravity field is still too strong for you. Little by little, though, -your muscles will strengthen to Jupiter's demands. Gravity will keep -them from bulging, expanding; but every muscle fibre in you will have -twice, three times its original strength. Are you excited?" - -"I am tired and sick. I want to sleep. What is Jupiter?" - -"Jupiter is a planet circling the sun at--never mind, comrade. You have -much to learn, but you can assimilate it with much less trouble in your -sleep. Go ahead, sleep." - -Sophia retched, was sick. It had been years since she cried. But -naked, afraid, bewildered, she cried herself to sleep. - -Things happened while she slept, many things. Certain endocrine -extracts accelerated her metabolism astonishingly. Within half an hour -her heart was pumping blood through her body two hundred beats per -minute. An hour later it reached its full rate, almost one thousand -contractions every sixty seconds. All her other metabolic functions -increased accordingly, and Sophia slept deeply for a week of subjective -time--in hours. The same machine which had gleaned everything from -her mind far more accurately than a battery of tests, a refinement of -the electro-encephalogram, was now played in reverse, giving back to -Sophia everything it had taken plus electrospool after electrospool of -science, mathematics, logic, economics, history (Marxian, these last -two), languages (including English), semantics and certain specialized -knowledge she would need later on the Stalintrek. - -Still sleeping, Sophia was bathed in a warm whirlpool of soothing -liquid; rubbed, massaged, her muscle-toning begun while she rested and -regained her strength. Three hours later, objective time, she awoke -with a headache and with more thoughts spinning around madly inside -her brain than she ever knew existed. Gingerly, she tried standing -again, lifting herself nude and dripping wet from a tub of steaming -amber stuff. She stood, stretched, permitted her fright to vanish -with a quick wave of vertigo which engulfed her. She had been fed -intravenously, but a tremendous hunger possessed her. Before eating, -however, she was to find herself in a gymnasium, the air close and -stifling. She was massaged again, told to do certain exercises which -seemed simple but which she found extremely difficult, forced to run -until she thought she would collapse, with her legs, dragging like lead. - -She understood, now. Somehow she knew she was on Jupiter, the fifth -and largest planet, where the force of gravity is so much greater than -on Earth that it is an effort even to walk. She also knew that her -metabolic rate had been accelerated beyond all comprehension and that -in a comparatively short time--objective time--she would have thrice -her original strength. All this she knew without knowing how she knew, -and that was the most staggering fact of all. She did what her curt -instructors bid, then dragged her aching muscles and her headache into -a dining room where tired, forlorn-looking men sat around eating. Well -the food at least was good. Sophia attacked it ravenously. - - * * * * * - -It did not take Temple long to realize that the creature running -downhill at him, leaving a crushed and broken wake in the purple and -green grass, was not human. At first Temple toyed with the idea of a -man on horseback, for the creature ran on four limbs and had two left -over as arms. Temple gaped. - -The whole thing was one piece! - -Centaur? - -Hardly. Too small, for one thing. No bigger than a man, despite the -three pairs of limbs. And then Temple had time to gape no longer, for -the creature, whatever it was, flashed past him at what he now had to -consider a gallop. - -More followed. Different. Temple stared and stared. One could have been -a great, sentient hoop, rolling downhill and gathering momentum. If he -carried the wheel analogy further, a huge eye stared at him from where -the hub would have been. Something else followed with kangaroo leaps. -One thick-thewed leg propelled it in tremendous, fifteen-foot strides -while its small, flapper-like arms beat the air prodigiously. - -Legions of creatures. All fantastically different. _I'm going crazy_, -Temple thought, then said it aloud. "I'm going crazy." - -Theorizing thus, he heard a whir overhead, whirled, looked up. -Something was poised a dozen feet off the ground, a large, box-like -object seven or eight feet across, rotors spinning above it. That, at -least, he could understand. A helicopter. - -"I'm lowering a ladder, Kit. Swing aboard." - -Arkalion's voice. - -Stunned enough to accept anything he saw, Temple waited for the rope -ladder to drop, grasped its end, climbed. He swung his legs over a -sill, found himself in a neat little cabin with Arkalion, who hauled -the ladder in and did something to the controls. They sped away. -Temple had one quick moment of lucid thought before everything which -had happened in the last few moments shoved logic aside. What he had -observed looked for all the world like a foot-race. - -"Where the hell _are_ we?" Temple demanded breathlessly. - -Arkalion smiled. "Where do you think? Journey's end. Welcome to -Nowhere, Kit. Welcome to the place where all your questions can be -answered because there's no going back. Sorry I set you down in that -field by mistake, incidentally. Those things sometimes happen." - -"Can I just throw the questions at you?" - -"If you wish. It isn't really necessary, for you will be indoctrinated -when we get you over to Earth city where you belong." - -"What do you mean, there's no going back? I thought they had a rotation -system which for one reason or another wasn't practical at the moment. -That doesn't sound like no going back, ever." - -Arkalion grunted, shrugged. "Have it your way. I _know_." - -"Sorry. Shoot." - -"Just how far do you think you have come?" - -"Search me. Some other star system, maybe?" - -"Maybe. Clean across the galaxy, Kit." - -Temple whistled softly. "It isn't something you can grasp just by -hearing it. Across the galaxy...." - -"That isn't too important just now. How long did you think the journey -took?" - -Temple nodded eagerly. "That's what gets me. It was amazing, Alaric. -Really amazing. The whole trip couldn't have taken more than a moment -or two. I don't get it. Did we slip out of normal space into some -other--uh, continuum, and speed across the length of the galaxy like -that?" - -"The answer to your questions is yes. But your statement is way off. -The journey did not take seconds, Kit." - -"No? Instantaneous?" - -"Far more than seconds. To reach here from Earth you traveled five -thousand years." - -"What?" - -"More correctly, it was five thousand years ago that you left Mars. -You would need a time machine to return, and there is no such thing. -The Earth you know is the length of the galaxy and five thousand years -behind you." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -It could have been a city in New England, or maybe Wisconsin. Main -Street stretched for half a mile from Town Hall to the small department -store. Neon tubing brightened every store front, busy proprietors could -be seen at work through the large plate glass windows. There was the -bustle you might expect on any Main Street in New England or Wisconsin, -but you could not draw the parallel indefinitely. - -There were only men. No women. - -The hills in which the town nestled were too purple--not purple with -distance but the natural color of the grass. - -A somber red sun hung in the pale mauve sky. - -This was Earth City, Nowhere. - -Arkalion had deposited Temple in the nearby hills, promised they would -see one another again. "It may not be so soon," Arkalion had said, "but -what's the difference? You'll spend the rest of your life here. You -realize you are lucky, Kit. If you hadn't come, you would have been -dead these five thousand years. Well, good luck." - -Dead--five thousand years. The Earth as he knew it, dust. Stephanie, a -fifty generation corpse. Nowhere was right. End of the universe. - -Temple shuffled his feet, trudged on into town. A man passed him on the -street, stooped, gray-haired. The man nodded, did a mild double-take. -_I'm an unfamiliar face_, Temple thought. - -"Howdy," he said. "I'm new here." - -"That's what I thought, stranger. Know just about everyone in these -here parts, I do, and I said to myself, now there's a newcomer. Funny -you didn't come in the regular way." - -"I'm here," said Temple. - -"Yeah. Funny thing, you get to know everyone. Eh, what you say your -name was?" - -"Christopher Temple." - -"Make it my business to know everyone. The neighborly way, I always -say. Temple, eh? We have one here." - -"One what?" - -"Another fellow name of Temple. Jase Temple, son." - -"I'll be damned!" Temple cried, smiling suddenly. "I will be damned. -Tell me, old timer, where can I find him?" - -"Might be anyplace. Town's bigger'n it looks. I tell you, though, Jase -Temple's our co-ordinator. You'll find him there, the co-ordinator's -office. Town Hall, down the end of the street." - -"I already passed it," Temple told the man. "And thanks." - -Temple's legs carried him at a brisk pace, past the row of store fronts -and down to the Town Hall. He read a directory, climbed a flight of -stairs, found a door marked: - - JASON TEMPLE - Earth City Co-ordinator. - -Heart pounding, Temple knocked, heard someone call, "Come in." - -He pushed the door in and stared at his brother, just rising to face -him. - -"Kit! Kit! What are you doing ... so you took the journey too!" - -Jason ran to him, clasped his shoulders, pounded them. "You sure are -looking fit. Kit, you could have knocked me over with half a feather, -coming in like that." - -"You're looking great too, Jase," Temple lied. He hadn't seen his -brother in five years, had never expected to see him again. But he -remembered a full-faced, smiling man somewhat taller than himself, -somewhat broader across the shoulders. The Jason he saw looked -forty-five or fifty but was hardly out of his twenties. He had fierce, -smouldering eyes, gaunt cheeks, graying hair. He seemed a bundle of -restless, nervous energy. - -"Sit down, Kit. Start talking, kid brother. Start talking and don't -stop till next week. Tell me everything. Everything! Tell me about the -blue sky and the moon at night and the way the ocean looks on a windy -day and...." - -"Five years," said Temple. "Five years." - -"Five thousand, you mean," Jason reminded him. "It hardly seems -possible. How are the folks, Kit?" - -"Mom's fine. Pop too. He's sporting a new Chambers Converto. You should -see him, Jase. Sharp." - -"And Ann?" Jason looked at him hopefully. Ann had been Jason's -Stephanie--but for the Nowhere Journey they would have married. - -"Ann's married," Temple said. - -"Oh. Oh. That's swell, Kit. Really swell. I mean, what the hell, a girl -shouldn't wait forever. I told her not to, anyway." - -"She waited four years, then met a guy and--" - -"A nice guy?" - -"The best," said Temple. "You'd like him." - -Temple saw the vague hurt come to Jason's smouldering eyes. Then it -was the same. One part of Jason wanted her to remain his over an -unthinkable gap, another part wanted her to live a good, full life. - -"I'm glad," said Jason. "Can't expect a girl to wait without hope...." - -"Then there's no hope we'll ever get back?" - -Jason laughed harshly. "You tell me. Earth isn't merely sixty thousand -light years away. Kit, do you know what a light year is?" - -Temple said he thought he did. - -"Sixty thousand of them. A dozen eternities. But the Earth we know is -also dead. Dead five thousand years. The folks, Center City, Ann, her -husband--all dust. Five thousand years old.... Don't mind me, Kit." - -"Sure. Sure, I understand." But Temple didn't, not really. You -couldn't take five thousand years and chuck them out the window in -what seemed the space of a heart beat and then realize they were gone -permanently, forever. Not a period of time as long as all of recorded -civilization--you couldn't take it, tack it on after 1992 and accept -it. Somehow, Temple realized, the five thousand years were harder to -swallow than the sixty thousand light years. - -"Well," with a visible effort, Jason snapped out of his reverie. Temple -accepted a cigarette gratefully, his first in a long time. _In fifty -centuries_, he thought bitterly, burrowing deeper into a funk. - -"Well," said Jason, "I'm acting like a prize boob. How selfish can I -get? There must be an awful lot you'd like to know, Kit." - -"That's all right. I was told I'd be indoctrinated." - -"Ordinarily, you would. But there's no shipment now, none for another -three months. Say, how the devil _did_ you get here?" - -"That's a long story. Nowhere Journey, same as you, with a little -assist to speed things up on Mars. Jase, tell me this: what are we -doing here? What is everyone doing here? What's the Nowhere Journey all -about? What kind of a glorified foot-race did I see a while ago, with a -bunch of creatures out of the telio science-fiction shows?" - -Jason put his own cigarette out, changed his mind, lit another one. -"Sort of like the old joke, where does an alien go to register?" - -"Sort of." - -"It's a big universe," said Jason, evidently starting at the beginning -of something. - -"I'm just beginning to learn _how_ big!" - -"It would be pretty unimaginative of mankind to consider itself the -only sentient form of life, Earth the only home of intelligence, both -from a scientific and a religious point of view. We kind of expected -to find--neighbors out in space. Kit, the sky is full of stars, most -stars have planets. The universe crawls with life, all sorts of life, -all sorts of intelligent life. In short, we are not alone. It would be -sort of like taking the jet-shuttle from Washington to New York during -the evening rush and expecting to be the only one aboard. In reality, -you're lucky to get breathing space. - -"There are biped intelligences, like humans. There are radial -intelligences, one-legged species, tall, gangling creatures, squat -ones, pancake ones, giants, dwarfs. There are green skins and pink -skins and coal black--and yes, no skins. There are ... but you get the -idea." - -"Uh-huh." - -"Strangely enough, most of these intelligences are on about the same -developmental level. It's as if the Creator turned everything on -at once, like a race, and said 'okay, guys get started.' Maybe it's -because, as scientists figure, the whole universe got wound up and -started working as a unit. I don't know. Anyway, that's the way it -is. All the intelligences worth talking about are on about the same -cultural level. Atomics, crude spaceflight, wars they can't handle. - -"And this is interesting, Kit. Most of 'em are bipedal. Not really -human, not fully human. You can see the difference. But seventy-five -percent of the races I've encountered have had basic similarities. -A case of the Creator trying to figure out the best of all possible -life-patterns and coming up with this one. Offers a wide range for -action, for adaptation, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm losing track of -things." - -"Take it easy. From what you tell me I have all the time in the world." - -"Well, I said all the races are developmentally parallel. That's almost -true. One of them is not. One of them is so far ahead that the rest of -us have hardly reached the crawling stage by comparison. One of them is -the Super Race, Kit. - -"Their culture is old, incredibly old. So old, in fact, that some of -us figure it's been hanging around since before the Universe took -shape. Maybe that's why all the others are on one level, a few thousand -million years behind the Super Race. - -"So, take this Super Race. For some reason we can't understand, it -seems to be on the skids. That's just figurative. Maybe it's dying out, -maybe it wants to pack up and leave the galaxy altogether, maybe it's -got other undreamed of business other undreamed of places. Anyway, it -wants out. But it's got an eon-old storehouse of culture and maybe -it figures someone ought to have access to that and keep the galaxy -in running order. But who? That's the problem. Who gets all this -information, a million million generations of scientific problems, all -carefully worked out? Who, among all the parallel races on all the -worlds of the Universe? That's quite a problem, even for our Super Race -boys. - -"You'd think they'd have ways to solve it, though. With calculating -machines or whatever will follow calculating machines after Earthmen -and all the others find the next faltering step after a few thousand -years. Or with plain horse sense and logic, developed to a point--after -millions of years at it--where it never fails. Or solve the problem -with something we've never heard of, but solve it anyway." - -"What's all this got to do with--? I mean, it's an interesting story -and when I get a chance to digest it I'll probably start gasping, but -what about Nowhere and...." - -"I'm coming to that. Kit, what would you say if I told you that the -most intelligent race the Universe has ever produced solves the biggest -problem ever handed anyone--by playing games?" - -"I'd say you better continue." - -"That's the purpose of Nowhere, Kit. Every planet, every race has its -Nowhere. We all come here and we play games. Planet with the highest -score at the end of God knows how long wins the Universe, with all the -science and the wisdom needed to fashion that universe into a dozen -different kinds of heaven. And to decide all this, we play games. - -"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not complaining. If the Superboys say we -play, then we play. I'd take their word for it if they told me I had -fifteen heads. But it's the sort of thing which doesn't let you get -much sleep. Oh, Earth has a right to be proud of its record. United -North America is in second place on a competition that's as wide as the -Universe. But we're not first. Second. And I have a hunch from what's -been going on around here that the games are drawing to a close. - -"Fantastic, isn't it? Out of thousands of entrants, we're good enough -to place second. But some planet out near the star Deneb has us -hopelessly outclassed. We might as well get the booby prize. They'll -win and own the Universe--us included." - -Jason had leaned forward as he spoke, and was sitting on the edge of -his chair now. The room was comfortably cool, but sweat beaded his -forehead, dripped from his chin. - -Temple lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply. "You said the United -States--North America--was second. I thought this was a planet-wide -competition, planet against planet." - -"Earth is the one exception I've been able to find. The Deneb planet -heads the list, then comes North America. After that, the planet of a -star I never heard of. In fourth place is the Soviet Union." - -"I'll be damned," said Temple. "Well, okay. Mind if I store that away -for future reference? I've got another question. What kind of--uh, -games do we play?" - -"You name it. Mental contests. Scientific problems to be worked out -with laboratories built to our specifications. Emotional problems -with scores of men driven neurotic or worse every year. Problems of -adaptability. Responses to environmental challenge. Stamina contests. -Tests of strength, of endurance. Tests to determine depths of emotion. -Tests to determine objectivity in what should be an objective -situation. But the way everything is organized it's almost like a -giant-sized, never ending Olympic Games, complete with some cockeyed -sports events too, by the way." - -"With all the pageantry, too?" - -"No. But that's another story." - -"Anyway, what I saw _was_ a foot-race! And sorry, Jase, but I have -another question." - -Jason shrugged, spread his hands wide. - -"How come all this talk about rotation? It isn't possible, not with a -fifty century gap." - -"I know. They just let us in on that little deal a couple of years ago. -Till then, we didn't know. We thought it was distance only. In time, -after all this was over, we could go home. That's what we thought," -Jason said bitterly. "Actually, it's twice five thousand years. Five -to come here, five to return. Ten thousand years separate us from the -Earth we know, and even if we could go home, that wouldn't be going -home at all--to Earth ten thousand years in the future. - -"Oh, they had us hoodwinked. Afraid we might say no or something. They -never mentioned the length or duration of the trip. I don't understand -it, none of us do and we have some top scientists here. Something -to do with suspended animation, with contra-terrene matter, with -teleportation, something about latent extra-sensory powers in everyone, -about the ability to break down an object--or a creature or a man--to -its component atoms, to reverse--that's the word, reverse--those atoms -and send them spinning off into space as contra-terrene matter. - -"It all boils down to putting a man in a machine on Mars, pulling a -lever, materializing him here five thousand years later." Jason smiled -with only a trace of humor. "Any questions?" - -"About a thousand," said Temple. "I--" - -Something buzzed on Jason's desk and Temple watched him pick up a -microphone, say: "Co-ordinator speaking. What's up?" - -The voice which answered, clear enough to be in the room with them -and without the faintest trace of mechanical or electrical transfer, -spoke in a strange, liquid-syllabled language Temple had never heard. -Jason responded in the same language, with an apparent ease which -surprised Temple--until he remembered that his brother had always had a -knack of picking up foreign languages. Maybe that was why he held the -Co-ordinator's job--whatever it was he co-ordinated. - -There was fluency in the way Jason spoke, and alarm. The trouble-lines -etched deeply on his face stood out sharply, his eyes, if possible, -grew more intense. "Well," he said, putting the mike down and staring -at Temple without seeing him, "I'm afraid that does it." - -"What's the trouble?" - -"Everything." - -"Anything I can do?" - -"Item. The Superboys have discovered that Earth has two contingents -here--us and the Soviets. They're mad. Item. Something will be done -about it. Item. Soviet Russia has made a suggestion, or that is, its -people here. They will put forth a champion to match one of our own -choosing in the toughest grind of all, something to do with responding -to environmental challenge, which doesn't mean a hell of a lot unless -you happen to know something about it. Shall I go on?" - -And, when Temple nodded avidly. "We automatically lose by default. One -of the rules of that particular game is that the contestant must be a -newcomer. It's the sort of game you have to know nothing about, and -incidentally, it's also the sort of game a man can get killed at. Well, -the Soviets have a whole contingent of newcomers to pick from. We don't -have any. As the Superboys see it, that's our own tough luck. We lose -by default." - -"It seems to me--" - -"How can anything 'seem to you?' You're new here.... I'm sorry Kit. -What were you saying?" - -"No. Go ahead." - -"That's only the half of it. Right after Russia takes our place and -we're scratched off the list, the games go into their final phase. That -was the rumor all along, and it's just been confirmed. Interesting to -see what they do with all the contestants _after_ the games are over, -after there's no more Nowhere Journey." - -"We could go back where we came from." - -"Ten thousand years in the future?" - -"I'm not afraid." - -"Well, anyway, the Soviets put up a man, we can't match him. So it -looks like the U.S.S.R. represents Earth officially. Not that it -matters. We hardly have the chance of a very slushy snowball in a very -hot hell. But still--" - -"Our contestant, this guy who meets the Russians' challenge, has to be -a newcomer?" - -"That's what I said. Well, we can close up shop, I guess." - -"You made a mistake. You said no newcomers have arrived. I'm here, -Jase. I'm your man. Bring on your Russian Bear." Temple smiled grimly. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -"You got to hand it to Temple's kid brother." - -"Yeah. Cool as ice cubes." - -"Are you guys kidding? He doesn't know what's in store for him, that's -all." - -"Do _you_?" - -"Now that you mention it, no. Isn't a man here who can say for sure -what kind of environmental challenges he'll have to respond to. -Hypno-surgery sees to it the guys who went through the thing won't talk -about it. As if that isn't security enough, the subject's got to be a -brand new arrival!" - -"Shh! Here he comes." - -The brothers Temple entered Earth City's one tavern quietly, but on -their arrival all the speculative talk subsided. The long bar, built to -accommodate half a hundred pairs of elbows comfortably, gleamed with -a luster unfamiliar to Temple. It might have been marble, but marble -translucent rather than opaque, giving a beautiful three-dimensional -effect to the surface patterns. - -"What will it be?" Jason demanded. - -"Whatever you're drinking is fine." - -Jason ordered two scotches, neat, and the brothers drank. When Jason -got a refill he started talking. "Does T.A.T. mean anything to you, -Kit?" - -"Tat? Umm--no. Wait a minute! T.A.T. Isn't that some kind of protective -psychological test?" - -"That's it. You're shown a couple of dozen pictures, more or less -ambiguous, never cut and dry. Each one comes from a different stratum -of the social environment, and you're told to create a dramatic -situation, a story, for each picture. From your stories, for which you -draw on your whole background as a human being, the psychometrician -should be able to build a picture of your personality and maybe find -out what, if anything, is bothering you." - -"What's that to do with this response to environmental challenge thing?" - -"Well," said Jason, drinking a third scotch, "the Super Boys have -evolved T.A.T. to its ultimate. T.A.T.--that stands for Thematic -Apperception Test. But in E.C.R.--environmental challenge and response, -you don't see a picture and create a dramatic story around it. Instead, -you get thrust into the picture, the situation, and you have to work -out the solution--or suffer whatever consequences the particular -environmental challenge has in store for you." - -"I think I get you. But it's all make believe, huh?" - -"That's the hell of it," Jason told him. "No, it's not. It is and it -isn't. I don't know." - -"You make it perfectly clear," Temple smiled. "The red-headed boy -combed his brown hair, wishing it weren't blond." - -Jason shrugged. "I'm sorry. For reasons you already know, the E.C.R. -isn't very clear to me--or to anyone. You're not actually in the -situation in a physical sense, but it can affect you physically. You -_feel_ you're there, you actually live everything that happens to you, -getting injured if an injury occurs ... and dying if you get killed. -It's permanent, although you might actually be sleeping at the time. So -whether it's real or not is a question for philosophy. From your point -of view, from the point of view of someone going through it, it's real." - -"So I become part of this--uh, game in about an hour." - -"Right. You and whoever the Russians offer as your competition. No one -will blame you if you want to back out, Kit; from what you tell me, you -haven't even been adequately trained on Mars." - -"If you draw on the entire background of your life for this E.C.R., -then you don't need training. Shut up and stop worrying. I'm not -backing out of anything." - -"I didn't think you would, not if you're still as much like your old -man as you used to be. Kit ... good luck." - - * * * * * - -The fact that the technicians working around him were Earthmen -permitted Temple to relax a little. Probably, it was planned that way, -for entering the huge white cube of a building and ascending to the -twelfth level on a moving ramp Temple had spotted many figures, not -all of them human. If he had been strapped to the table by unfamiliar -aliens, if the scent of alien flesh--or non-flesh--had been strong in -the room, if the fingers--or appendages--which greased his temples -and clamped an electrode to each one had not felt like human fingers, -if the men talking to him had spoken in voices too harsh or too -sibilant for human vocal chords--if all that had been the case whatever -composure still remained his would have vanished. - -"I'm Dr. Olson," said one white-gowned figure. "If any injuries occur -while you lie here, I'm permitted to render first aid." - -"The same for limited psychotherapy," said a shorter, heavier man. -"Though a fat lot of good it does when we never know what's bothering -you, and don't have the time to work on it even if we did know." - -"In short," said a third man who failed to identify himself, "you may -consider yourself as the driver of one of those midget rocket racers. -Do they still have them on Earth? Good. You are the driver, and we here -in this room are the mechanics waiting in your pit. If anything goes -wrong, you can pull out of the race temporarily and have it repaired. -But in this particular race there is no pulling out: all repairs are -strictly of a first-aid nature and must be done while you continue -whatever you are doing. If you break your finger and find a splint -appearing on it miraculously, don't say you weren't warned." - -"Best of luck to you, young man," said the psychotherapist. - -"Here we go," said the doctor, finding the large vein on the inside of -Temple's forearm and plunging a needle into it. - -Temple's senses whirled instantly, but as his vision clouded he thought -he saw a large, complex device swing down from the ceiling and bathe -his head in warming radiation. He blinked, squinted, could see nothing -but a swirling, cloudy opacity. - - * * * * * - -Approximately two seconds later, Sophia Androvna Petrovitch watched as -the white-gowned comrade tied a rubber strap around her arm, waited for -the vein to swell with blood, then forced a needle in through its thick -outer layer. Was that a nozzle overhead? No, rather a lens, for from -it came amber warmth ... which soon faded, with everything else, into -thick, churning fog.... - -Temple was abruptly aware of running, plunging headlong and blindly -through the fiercest storm he had ever seen. Gusts of wind whipped -at him furiously. Rain cascaded down in drenching torrents. Foliage, -brambles, branches struck against his face; mud sucked at his feet. Big -animal shapes lumbered by in the green gloom, as frightened by the -storm as was Temple. - -His head darted this way and that, his eyes could see the gnarled -tree trunks, the dense greenery, the lianas, creepers and vines of -a tropical rain forest--but dimly. Green murk swirled in like thick -smoke with every gust of wind, with the rain obscuring vision almost -completely. - -Temple ran until his lungs burned and he thought he must exhale fire. -His leaden feet fought the mud with growing difficulty for every stride -he took. He ran wildly and in no set direction, convinced only that he -must find shelter or perish. Twice he crashed bodily into trees, twice -stumbled to his knees only to pull himself upright again, sucking air -painfully into his lungs and cutting out in a fresh direction. - -He ran until his legs balked. He fell, collapsing first at the knees, -then the waist, then flopping face down in the mud. Something prodded -his back as he fell and reaching behind him weakly Temple was aware for -the first time that a bow and a quiver of arrows hung suspended from -his shoulders by a strong leather thong. He wore nothing but a loin -cloth of some nameless animal skin and he wondered idly if he had slain -the animal with the weapon he carried. Yet when he tried to recollect -he found he could not. He remembered nothing but his frantic flight -through the rain forest, as if all his life he had run in a futile -attempt to leave the rain behind him. - -Now as he lay there, the mud sucking at his legs, his chest, his -armpits, he could not even remember his name. Did he have one? Did he -have a life before the rain forest? Then why did he forget? - -A sense not fully developed in man and called intuition by those who -fail to understand it made him prop his head up on his hands and squint -through the downpour. There was something off there in the foliage ... -someone.... - -A woman. - -Temple's breath caught in his throat sharply. The woman stood half a -dozen paces off, observing him coolly with hands on flanks. She stood -tall and straight despite the storm and from trim ankles to long, lithe -legs to flaring loin-clothed hips, to supple waist and tawny skin of -fine bare breasts and shoulders, to proud, haughty face and long dark -hair loose in the storm and glistening with rain, she was magnificent. -Her long, bronzed body gleamed with wetness and Temple realized she was -tall as he, a wild beautiful goddess of the jungle. She was part of -the storm and he accepted her--but strangely, with the same fear the -storm evoked. She would make a lover the whole world might relish (what -world, Temple thought in confusion?) but she would make a terrible foe. - -And foe she was.... - -"I want your bow and arrows," she told him. - -Temple wanted to suggest they share the weapon, but somehow he knew in -this world which was like a dream and could tell him things the way -a dream would and yet was vividly real, that the woman would share -nothing with anybody. - -"They are mine," Temple said, climbing to his knees. He remembered the -animal-shapes lumbering by in the storm and he knew that he and the -animals would both stalk prey when the storm subsided and he would need -the bow and arrows. - -The woman moved toward him with a liquid motion beautiful to behold, -and for the space of a heartbeat Temple watched her come. "I will take -them," she said. - -Temple wasn't sure if she could or not, and although she was a woman he -feared her strangely. Again, it was as if something in this dream-world -real-world could tell him more than he should know. - -Making up his mind, Temple sprang to his feet, whirled about and ran. -He was plunging through the wild storm once more, blinded by the -occasional flashes of jagged green lightning, deafened by the peals of -thunder which followed. And he was being pursued. - -Minutes, hours, more than hours--for an eternity Temple ran. A -reservoir of strength he never knew he possessed provided the energy -for each painful step and running through the storm seemed the most -natural thing in the world to him. But there came a time when his -strength failed, not slowly, but with shocking suddenness. Temple fell, -crawled a ways, was still. - -It took him minutes to realize the storm no longer buffeted him, more -minutes to learn he had managed to crawl into a cave. He had no time to -congratulate himself on his good fortune, for something stirred outside. - -"I am coming in," the woman called to him from the green murk. - -Temple strung an arrow to his bow, pulled the string back and faced the -cave's entrance squatting on his heels. "Then your first step shall be -your last. I'll shoot to kill." And he meant it. - -Silence from outside. Deafening. - -Temple felt sweat streaming under his armpits; his hands were clammy, -his hands trembled. - -"You haven't seen the last of me," the woman promised. After that, -Temple knew she was gone. He slept as one dead. - -When Temple awoke, bright sunlight filtered in through the foliage -outside his cave. Although the ground was a muddy ruin, the storm had -stopped. Edging to the mouth of the cave, Temple spread the foliage -with his hands, peered cautiously outside. Satisfied, he took his bow -and arrows and left the cave, pangs of hunger knotting his stomach -painfully. - -The cave had been weathered in the side of a short, steep abutment a -dozen paces from a gushing, swollen stream. Temple followed the course -of the stream as it twisted through the jungle, ranging half a mile -from his cave until the water course widened to form a water-hole. All -morning Temple waited there, crouching in the grass, until one by one, -the forest animals came to drink. He selected a small hare-like thing, -notched an arrow to his bow, let it fly. - -The animal jumped, collapsed, began to slink away into the undergrowth, -dragging the arrow from its hindquarters. Temple darted after it, -caught it in his hands and bashed its life out against the bole of a -tree. Returning to his cave he found two flinty stones, shredded a -fallen branch and nursed the shards dry in the strong sunlight. Soon he -made a fire and ate. - - * * * * * - -In the days which followed, Temple returned to the water-hole and -bagged a new catch every time he ventured forth. Things went so well -that he began to range further and further from his cave exploring. -Once however, he returned early to the water-hole and found footprints -in the soft mud of its banks. - -The woman. - -That she had been observing him while he had hunted had never occurred -to Temple, but now that the proof lay clearly before his eyes, the -old feeling of uncertainty came back. And the next day, when he crept -stealthily to the water-hole and saw the woman squatting there in the -brush, waiting for him, he fled back to his cave. - -The thought hit him suddenly. If she were stalking him, why must he -flee as from his own shadow? There would be no security for either of -them until either one or the other were gone--and gone meant dead. Then -Temple would do his own stalking. - -For several nights Temple hardly slept. He could have found the -water-hole blindfolded merely by following the stream. Each night he -would reach the hole and work, digging with a sharp stone, until he -had fashioned a pit fully ten feet deep and six feet across. This he -covered with branches, twigs, leaves and finally dirt. - -When he returned in the morning he was satisfied with his work. Unless -the woman made a careful study of the area, she would never see the -pit. All that day Temple waited with his back to the water-hole, facing -the camouflaged pit, the trap he had set, but the woman failed to -appear. When she also did not come on the second day, he began to think -his plan would not work. - -The third day, Temple arrived with the sun, sat as before in the tall -grass between the pit and the water-hole and waited. Several paces -beyond his hidden trap he could see the tall trees of the jungle with -vines and creepers hanging from their branches. At his back, a man's -length behind him was the water-hole, its deepest waters no more than -waist-high. - -Temple waited until the sun stood high in the sky, then was fascinated -as a small antelope minced down to the water-hole for a drink. _You'll -make a fine breakfast tomorrow, he thought, smiling._ - -Something, that strange sixth sense again, made Temple turn around and -stand up. He had time for a brief look, a hoarse cry. - -The woman had been the cleverer. She had set the final trap. She stood -high up on a branch of one of the trees beyond the hidden pit and -for an instant Temple saw her fine figure clearly, naked but for the -loincloth. Then the soft curves became spring-steel. - -The woman arched her body there on the high branch, grasping a stout -vine and rocking back with it. Temple raised his bow, set an arrow to -let it fly. But by then, the woman was in motion. - -Long and lithe and graceful, she swung down on her vine, gathering -momentum as she came. Her feet almost brushed the lip of Temple's pit -at the lowest arc of her flight, but she clung to the vine and it began -to swing up again like a pendulum--toward Temple. - -At the last moment he hunched his shoulder and tried to raise his arms -for protection. The woman was quicker. She gathered her legs up under -her, still clutching the vine with her slim, strong hands. The vine's -arc carried her up at him; her knees were at a level with his head and -she brought them up savagely, close together striking Temple brutally -at the base of his jaw. Temple screamed as his head was jerked back -with terrible force. - -The bow flew from his fingers and he fell into the water-hole, flat on -his back. - -Sophia let the vine carry her out over the water, then dropped from it. -Waist deep, she waded to where the man lay, unconscious on his back, -half in, half out of the shallowest part of the water. She reached him, -prodded his chest with her foot. When he did not stir, she rocked her -weight down gracefully on her long leg, forcing his head under water. -With a haughty smile, she watched the bubbles rise.... - - * * * * * - -In the small room where Temple's body lay in repose on a table the -white-smocked doctor looked at the psychotherapist questioningly. -"What's happening?" - -"Can't tell, doctor. But--" - -Suddenly Temple's still body rocked convulsively, his neck stretched, -his head shot up and back. Blood trickled from his mouth. - -The doctor thrust out expert hands, examined Temple's jaw dexterously. - -"Broken?" the psychotherapist demanded in a worried voice. - -"No. Dislocated. He looks like he's been hit by a sledge hammer, -wherever he is now, whatever's happening. This E.C.R. is the damndest -thing." - -Temple's still form shuddered convulsively. He began to gasp and cough, -obviously fighting for breath. An ugly blue swelling had by now lumped -the base of his jaw. - -"What's happening?" demanded the psychotherapist. - -"I can't be sure," said the doctor, shaking his head. "He seems to have -difficulty in breathing ... it's as if he were--drowning." - -"Bad. Anything we can do?" - -"No. We wait until this particular sequence ends." The doctor -examined Temple again. "If it doesn't end soon, this man will die of -asphyxiation." - -"Call it off," the psychotherapist pleaded. "If he dies now Earth will -be represented by Russia. Call it off!" - -Someone entered the room. "_I_ have the authority," he said, selecting -a hypodermic from the doctor's rack and piercing the skin of Temple's -forearm with it. "This first test has gone far enough. The Russian -entry is clearly the winner, but Temple must live if he is to compete -in another." - -The racking convulsions which shook Temple's body subsided. He ceased -his choking, began to breathe regularly. With grim swiftness, the -doctor went to work on Temple's dislocated jaw while the man who had -stopped the contest rendered artificial respiration. - -The man was Alaric Arkalion. - - * * * * * - -The Comrade Doctor was exultant. "Jupiter training, comrade, has given -us a victory." - -"How can you be sure?" - -"Our entrant is unharmed, the contest has been called. Wait ... she is -coming to." - -Sophia stretched, rubbed her bruised knees, sat up. - -"What happened, Comrade?" the doctor demanded. - -"My knees ache," said Sophia, rubbing them some more. "I--I killed -him, I think. Strange, I never dreamed it would be that real." - -"In a sense, it _was_ real. If you killed the American, he will stay -dead." - -"Nothing mattered but that world we were in, a fantastic place. Now I -remember everything, all the things I couldn't remember then." - -"But your--ah, dream--what happened?" - -Sophia rubbed her bruised knees a third time, ruefully. "I knocked him -unconscious with these. I forced his head under water and drowned him. -But--before I could be sure I finished the job--I came back.... Funny -that I should want to kill him without compunction, without reason." -Sophia frowned, sat up. "I don't think I want anymore of this." - -The doctor surveyed her coldly. "This is your task on the Stalintrek. -This you will do." - -"I killed him without a thought." - -"Enough. You will rest and get ready for the second contest." - -"But if he's dead--" - -"Apparently he's not, or we would have been informed, Comrade -Petrovitch." - -"That is true," agreed the second man, who had remained silent until -now. "Prepare for another test, Comrade." - -Sophia was on the point of arguing again. After all it wasn't fair. If -in the dream-worlds which were not dream worlds she was motivated by -but one factor and that to destroy the American and if she faced him -with the strength of her Jupiter training it would hardly be a contest. -And now that she could think of the American without the all-consuming -hatred the dream world had fostered in her, she realized he had been a -pleasant-looking young man, quite personable, in fact. _I could like -him_, Sophia thought and hoped fervently she had not drowned him. -Still, if she had volunteered for the Stalintrek and this was the job -they assigned her.... - -"I need no rest," she told the doctor, hardly trusting herself, for she -realized she might change her mind. "I am ready any time you are." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -His name was Temple and it was the year 1960. - -Christopher Temple had problems. He had his own life, too, which had -nothing to do with the life of the real Christopher Temple, departed -thirty-odd years later on the Nowhere Journey. Or rather, this _was_ -Christopher Temple, living his second E.C.R.... Temple who had lost -once, and who, if he lost again, would take the dreams and hopes of -the Western world down into the dust of defeat with him. But as the -fictional (although in a certain sense, real) Christopher Temple of -1960, he knew nothing of this. - -The world could go to pot. The world was going to pot, anyway. Temple -shuddered as he poured a fourth Canadian, downing it in a tasteless, -burning gulp. Temple was a thermo-nuclear engineer with government -subsidized degrees from three universities including the fine new one -at Desert Rock. Temple was a thermo-nuclear engineer with top-secret -government clearance. Temple was a thermo-nuclear engineer with more -military secrets buzzing around inside his head than in a warehouse of -burned Pentagon files. - -Temple was also a thermo-nuclear engineer whose wife spied for the -Russians. - -He'd found out quite by accident, not meaning to eavesdrop at all. -Returning home early one afternoon because the production engineer -called a halt while further research was done on certain unstable -isotopes, Temple was surprised to find his wife had a gentleman -caller. He heard their voices clearly from where he stood out in the -sun-parlor, and for a ridiculous instant he was torn between slinking -upstairs and ignoring them altogether or barging into the living room -like a high school boy flushed with jealousy. The mature thing to do, -of course, was neither, and Temple was on the point of walking politely -into the living room, saying hello and waiting for an introduction, -when snatches of the conversation stopped him cold. - -"Silly Charles! Kit doesn't suspect a thing. I would _know_." - -"How can you be sure?" - -"Intuition." - -"On a framework of intuition you would place the fate of Red Empire?" - -"Empire, Charles?" Temple could picture Lucy's raised eyebrow. He -listened now, hardly breathing. For one wild moment he thought he -would retreat upstairs and forget the whole thing. Life would be much -simpler that way. A meaningless surrender to unreality, however, and it -couldn't be done. - -"Yes, Empire. Oh, not the land-grabbing, slave-dominating sort of -things the Imperialists used to attempt, but a more subtle and hence -more enduring empire. Let the world call us Liberator, we shall have -Empire." - -Lucy laughed, a sound which Temple loved. "You may keep your ideology, -Charles. Play with it, bathe in it, get drunk on it or drown yourself -in it. I want my money." - -"You are frank." - -Temple could picture Lucy's shrug. "I am a paid, professional spy. By -now you have most of the information you need. I shall have the rest -tonight." - -"I'll see you in hell first!" Temple cried in rage, stalking into the -room and almost smiling in spite of the situation when he realized how -melodramatic his words must sound. - -"Kit! Kit...." Lucy raised hand to mouth, then backed away flinching as -if she had been struck. - -"Yeah, Kit. A political cuckold, or does Charles get other services -from you as well?" - -"Kit, you don't...." - -The man named Charles motioned for silence. Dapper, clean-cut, -good-looking except for a surly, pouting mouth, he was a head shorter -than either Temple or Lucy. "Don't waste your words, Sophia. Temple -overheard us." - -_Sophia?_ thought Temple. "Sophia?" he said. - -Charles nodded coolly. "The real Mrs. Temple was observed, studied, -her every habit and whim catalogued by experts. A plastic surgeon, a -psychologist, a sociologist, a linguist, a whole battery of experts -molded Sophia here into a new Mrs. Temple. I must congratulate them, -for you never suspected." - -"Lucy?" Temple demanded dully. Reason stood suspended in a limbo of -objective acceptance and subjective disbelief. - -"Mrs. Temple was eliminated. Regrettable because we don't deal in -senseless mayhem, but necessary." - -Temple was not aware of leaving limbo until he felt the bruising -contact of his knuckles with Charles' jaw. The short man toppled, fell -at his feet. "Get up!" Temple cried, then changed his mind and tensed -himself to leap upon the prone figure. - -"Hold it," Charles told him quietly, wiping blood from his lips with -one hand, drawing an automatic from his pocket with the other. "You'd -better freeze, Temple. You die if you don't." - -Temple froze, watched Charles slither away across the high-piled green -carpet until, safely away across the room, he came upright groggily. He -turned to the dead Lucy's double. "What do you think, Sophia?" - -"I don't know. We could get out of here, probably get along without the -final information." - -"That isn't what I mean. Naturally, we'll never receive the final -facts. I mean, what do you think about Temple?" - -Sophia said she didn't know. - -"Left alone, he would go to the police. Kidnapped, he would be worse -than useless. Harmful, actually, for the authorities would suspect -something. Even worse if we killed him. The point is, we don't want the -authorities to think Temple gave information to anybody." - -"Gave is hardly the word," said Sophia. "I was a good wife, but also a -good gleaner. One hundred thousand dollars, Charles." - -"You bitch," Temple said. - -"Later," Charles told the woman. "The solution is this, Sophia: we must -kill Temple, but it must look like suicide." - -Sophia frowned in pretty concern. "Do we have to ... kill him?" - -"What's the matter, my dear? Have you been playing the wifely role too -long? If Temple stands in the way of Red Empire, Temple must die." - -Temple edged forward. - -"Uh-uh," said Charles, "mustn't." He waved the automatic and Temple -subsided. - -"Is that right?" Sophia demanded. "Well, you listen to me. I have -nothing to do with your Red Empire. I fled the Iron Curtain, came here -to live voluntarily--" - -"Do you really think it was on a voluntary basis that you went? We -allowed you to go, Sophia. We encouraged it. That way, the job of our -technicians was all the simpler. Whether you like it or not, you have -been a cog in the machine of Red Empire." - -"I still don't see why he has to die." - -"Leave thinking to those who can. You have a smile, a body, a certain -way with men. I will think. I think that Temple should die." - -"I don't," Sophia said. - -"We're delaying needlessly. The man dies." And Charles raised his -automatic, sufficiently irked to forget his suicide plan. - -A gap of eight or nine feet separated the two men. It might as well -have been infinity--and it would be soon, for Temple. He saw Charles' -small hand tighten about the automatic, saw the trigger finger grow -white. The weapon pointed at a spot just above his navel and briefly he -found himself wondering what it would feel like for a slug to rip into -his stomach, burning a path back to his spine. He decided to make the -gesture at least, if he could do no more. He would jump for Charles. - -Sophia beat him to it--and because Lucy was dead and Sophia looked -exactly like her and Temple could not quite accept the fact, it seemed -the most natural thing in the world. Cat-quick, Sophia leaped upon -Charles' back and they went down together in a twisting, thrashing -tangle of arms and legs. - -Temple did not wait for an invitation. He launched himself down after -them, and then things began to happen ... fast. - -Sophia rolled clear, rose to her hands and knees, panting. Charles sat -up cursing, nursing a badly scratched face. Temple hurtled at him, -stretched him on his back again, began to pound hard fists into his -face. - -Charles did not have the automatic. Neither did Temple. - -Something exploded against the back of Temple's head violently, -throwing him off Charles and tumbling him over. Dimly he saw Sophia -following through, the automatic in her hand, butt foremost. Temple's -senses reeled. He tried to rise, succeeded only in a kind of shuddering -slither before he subsided. He wavered between consciousness and -unconsciousness, heard as in a dream snatches of conversation. - -"Shoot him ... shoot him!" - -"Shut up ... I have ... gun ... go to hell." - -"... kill ... only way." - -"My way is different ... out of here ... discuss later." - -"... feel ..." - -"I said ... out of here...." - -The voices became a meaningless liquid torrent cascading into a black -pit. - - * * * * * - -Now Temple sat with a water-glass a third full of Canadian in his hand, -every once in a while reaching up gingerly to explore the bruised -swelling on his head, the blood-matted hair which covered it. To be -a cuckold was one thing, but to be the naive, political pawn sort of -cuckold who is not a cuckold at all, he told himself, is far worse. To -live with his woman, eat the meals she cooked for him, talk to her, -think she understood him, sympathize with him, to make love to her with -passion while she responds with play-acting for a hundred thousand -dollar salary was suddenly the most emasculating thing in the world -for Temple. He had not thought to ask how long it had been going on. -Better, perhaps, if he never knew. And somewhere lost in the maze of -his thoughts was the grimmest, bleakest reality of them all: Lucy was -dead. Lucy--dead. But where did Lucy leave off, where did Sophia begin? -Was Lucy dead that night they returned more than a little drunk from -the Chamber's party, that night they danced in the living room until -dawn obscured the stars and he carried Lucy upstairs. Lucy or Sophia? -And the day they motored to the lake, their secret lake, hardly more -than a dammed, widened stream and dreamed of the things they could -do when the Cold War ended? Lucy--or Sophia? Had he ever noticed a -difference in the way Lucy-Sophia cooked, in the way she spoke, the -way she let him make love to her? He thought himself into a man-sized -headache and found no answers. This way at least the loss of his wife -was not as traumatic as it might have been. He knew not when she died -or how and, in fact, Lucy-Sophia seemed so much like the real thing -that he did not know where he could stop loving and start hating. - -And the girl, the Russian girl, had saved his life. Why? He couldn't -answer that one either, unless if it were as Charles suggested: Sophia -had studied Lucy so carefully, had learned her likes and dislikes, -her wants and desires, had memorized and practised every quirk of her -character to such an extent that Sophia was Lucy in essence. - -Which, Temple thought, would make it all the harder to seek out Sophia -and kill her. - -That was the answer, the only answer. Temple felt a dull ache where -his heart should have been, a pressure, a pounding, an unpleasant, -unfamiliar lack of feeling. If he took his story to the F.B.I. he -had no doubt that Charles, Sophia and whoever else worked this thing -with them would be caught, but he, Temple, would find himself with a -lifelong, unslakable emotional thirst. He had to quench it now and then -feel sorry so that he might heal. He had to quench it with Sophia's -blood ... alone. - - * * * * * - -He found her a week later at their lake. He had looked everywhere and -had about given up, almost, in fact, ready to turn his story over to -the police. But he had to think and their lake was the place for that. - -Apparently Sophia had the same idea. Temple parked on the highway half -a mile from their lake, made his way slowly through the woods, golden -dappled with sunlight. He heard the waters gushing merrily, heard the -sounds of some small animal rushing off through the woods. He saw -Sophia. - -She lay on their sunning rock in shorts and halter, completely relaxed, -an opened magazine face down on the rock beside her, a pair of -sunglasses next to it. She had one knee up, one leg stretched out, one -forearm shielding her eyes from the sun, one arm down at her side. -Seeing her thus, Temple felt the pressure of his automatic in its -holster under his arm. He could draw it out, kill her before she was -aware of his presence. Would that make him feel better? Five minutes -ago, he would have said yes. Now he hesitated. Kill her, who seemed as -completely Lucy as he was Temple? Send a bullet ripping through the -body which he had known and loved, or the body that had seemed so much -like it he had failed to tell the difference? - -Murder--Lucy? - -"No," he said aloud. "Her name is Sophia." - -The girl sat up, startled. "Kit," she said. - -"Lucy." - -"You can't make up your mind, either." She smiled just like Lucy. - -Dumbly, he sat down next to her on the rock. Strong sunlight had -brought a fine dew of perspiration to the bronzed skin of her face. She -got a pack of cigarettes out from under the magazine, lit one, offered -it to Temple, lit another and smoked it. "Where do we go from here?" -she wanted to know. - -"I--" - -"You came to kill me, didn't you? Is that the only way you can ever -feel better, Kit?" - -"I--" He was going to deny it, then think. - -"Don't deny it. Please." She reached in under his jacket, withdrawing -her hand with the snub-nosed automatic in it. "Here," she said, giving -it to him. - -He took the gun, hefted it, let it fall, clattering, on the rock. - -"Listen," she said. "I could have told you I was Lucy. If I said now -that I am Lucy and if I kept on saying it, you'd believe me. You'd -believe me because you'd want to." - -"Well," said Temple. - -"I am not Lucy. Lucy is dead. But ... but I was Lucy in everything -but being Lucy. I thought her thoughts, dreamed her dreams, loved her -loves." - -"You killed her." - -"No. I had nothing to do with that. She was killed, yes. Not by me. -Kit, if I asked you when Lucy stopped, and ... when I began, could you -tell me?" - -He had often thought about that. "No," he said truthfully. "You're as -much my wife as--she was." - -She clutched at his hand impulsively. Then, when he failed to respond, -she withdrew her own hand. "Then--then I _am_ Lucy. If I am Lucy in -every way, Lucy never died." - -"You betrayed me. You stood by while murder was committed. You are -guilty of espionage." - -"Lucy loved you. I am Lucy...." - -"... Betrayed me...." - -"For a hundred thousand dollars. For the chance to live a normal life, -for the chance to forget Leningrad in the wintertime, watery potato -soup, rags for clothing, swaggering commissars, poverty, disease. Do -you think I realized I could fall in love with you so completely? If I -did, don't you think that would have changed things? I am not Sophia, -Kit. I was, but I am not. They made me Lucy. Lucy can't be dead, not if -I am she in every way." - -"What can we do?" - -"I don't know. I only want to be your wife...." - -"Well, then tell me," he said bitterly. "Shall I go back to the plant -and continue working, knowing all the time that our most closely -guarded secret is in Russian hands and that my wife is responsible?" He -laughed. "Shall I do that?" - -"Your secrets never went anywhere." - -"Shall I ... _what?_" - -"Your secrets never went anywhere. Charles is dead. I have destroyed -all that we took. I am not Russian any longer. American. They made me -American. They made me Lucy. I want to go right on being Lucy, your -wife." - -Temple said nothing for a long time. He realized now he could not kill -her. But everything else she suggested.... "Tell me," he said. "Tell -me, how long have you been Lucy? You've got to tell me that." - -"How long have we been married?" - -"You know how long. Three years." - -Sophia crushed her cigarette out on the rock, wiped perspiration -(tears?) from her cheek with the back of her hand. "You have never -known anyone but me in your marriage bed, Kit." - -"You--you're lying." - -"No. They did what they did on the eve of your marriage. I have been -your wife for as long as you have had one." - -Temple's head whirled. It had been a quick courtship. He had known Lucy -only two weeks in those hectic post-graduate days of 1957. But for -fourteen brief days, it was Sophia he had known all along. - -"Sophia, I--" - -"There is no Sophia, not any more." - -He had hardly known Lucy, the real Lucy. This girl here was his wife, -always had been. Had the first fourteen days with Lucy been anything -but a dream? He was sorry Lucy had died--but the Lucy he had thought -dead was Sophia, very much alive. - -He took her in his arms, almost crushing her. He held her that way, -kissed her savagely, letting passion of a different sort take the place -of murder. - -_This is my woman_, he thought, and awoke on his white pallet in -Nowhere. - - * * * * * - -"I am awake," said Temple. - -"We see that. You shouldn't be." - -"No?" - -"No. There is one more dream." - -Temple dozed restfully but was soon aware of a commotion. Strangely, he -did not care. He was too tired to open his eyes, anyway. Let whatever -was going to happen, happen. He wanted his sleep. - -But the voice persisted. - -"This is highly irregular. You came in here once and--" - -"I did you a favor, didn't I?" (That voice is familiar, Temple thought.) - -"Well, yes. But what now?" - -"Temple's record is now one and one. In the second sequence he was the -victor. The Soviet entry had to extract certain information from him -and turn it over to her people. She extracted the information well -enough but somehow Temple made her change her mind. The information -never went anyplace. How Temple managed to play counterspy I don't -know, but he played it and won." - -"That's fine. But what do you want?" - -"The final E.C.R. is critical." (The voice was Arkalion's!) "How -critical, I can't tell you. Sufficient though, if you know that you -lose no matter how Temple fares. If the Russian woman defeats Temple, -you lose." - -"Naturally." - -"Let me finish. If Temple defeats the Russian woman, you also lose. -Either way, Earth is the loser. I haven't time to explain what you -wouldn't understand anyway. Will you cooperate?" - -"Umm-mm. You did save Temple's life. Umm-mm, yes. All right." - -"The third dream sequence is the wrong dream, the wrong contest with -the wrong antagonist at the wrong time, when a far more important -contest is brewing ... with the fate of Earth as a reward for the -victor." - -"What do you propose?" - -"I will arrange Temple's final dream. But if he disappears from this -room, don't be alarmed. It's a dream of a different sort. Temple won't -know it until the dream progresses, you won't know it until everything -is concluded, but Temple will fight for a slave or a free Earth." - -"Can't you tell us more?" - -"There is no time, except to say that along with the rest of the -Galaxy, you've been duped. The Nowhere Journey is a grim, tragic farce. - -"Awaken, Kit!" - -Temple awoke into what he thought was the third and final dream. -Strange, because this time he knew where he was and why, knew also that -he was dreaming, even remembered vividly the other two dreams. - - * * * * * - -"Stealth," said Arkalion, and led Temple through long, white-walled -corridors. They finally came to a partially open door and paused there. -Peering within, Temple saw a room much like the one he had left, with -two white-gowned figures standing anxiously over a table. And prone on -the table was Sophia, whom Temple had loved short moments before, in -his second dream. Moments? Years. (Never, except in a dream.) - -"She's lovely," Arkalion whispered. - -"I know." Like himself, Sophia was garbed in a loose jumper and slacks. - -"Stealth," said Arkalion again. "Haste." Arkalion disappeared. - -"Well," Temple told himself. "What now? At least in the other dreams I -was thrust so completely into things, I knew what to do." He rubbed his -jaw grimly. "Not that it did much good the first time." - -Temple poked the partially-ajar door with his foot, pushing it open. -The two white-smocked figures had their backs to him, leaned intently -over the table and Sophia. Without knowing what motivated him, Temple -leaped into the room, grasped the nearer figure's arm, whirled him -around. Startled confusion began to alter the man's coarse features, -but his face went slack when Temple's fist struck his jaw with terrible -strength. The man collapsed. - -The second man turned, mouthing a stream of what must have been Russian -invective. He parried Temple's quick blow with his left hand, crossing -his own right fist to Temple's face and almost ending the fight as -quickly as it had started. Temple went down in a heap and was vaguely -aware of the Russian's booted foot hovering over his face. He reached -out, grabbed the boot with both hands, twisted. The man screamed and -fell and then they were rolling over and over, striking each other -with fists, knees, elbows, gouging, butting, cursing. Temple found -the Russian's throat, closed his hands around it, applied pressure. -Fists pounded his face, nails raked him, but slowly he succeeded in -throttling the Russian. When Temple got to his feet, trembling, the -Russian stared blankly at the ceiling. He would go on staring that way -until someone shut his eyes. - -Not questioning the incomprehensible, Temple knew he had done what -he must. Hardly seeking for the motive he could not find he lifted -the unconscious Sophia off the table, slung her long form across his -shoulder, plodded with her from the room. Arkalion had said haste. He -would hurry. - -He next was aware of a spaceship. Remembering no time lag, he simply -stood in the ship with Arkalion. And Sophia. - -He knew it was a spaceship because he had been in one before and -although the sensation of weightlessness was not present, they were in -deep space. Stars you never see through an obscuring atmosphere hung -suspended in the viewports. Cold-bright, not flickering against the -plush blackness of deep space, phalanxes and legions of stars without -numbers, in such wild profusion that space actually seemed three -dimensional. - -"This is a different sort of dream," said Sophia in English. "I -remember. I remember everything. Kit--" - -"Hello." He felt strangely shy, became mildly angry when Arkalion -hardly tried to suppress a slight snicker. "Well, that second dream -wasn't our idea," Temple protested. "Once there, we acted ... and--" - -"And...." said Sophia. - -"And nothing," Arkalion told them. "You haven't time. This is a -spaceship, not like the slow, bumbling craft your people use to reach -Mars or Jupiter." - -"Our people?" Temple demanded. "Not yours?" - -"Will you let me finish? Light is a laggard crawler by comparison with -the drive propelling this ship. Temple, Sophia, we are leaving your -Galaxy altogether." - -"Is that a fact," said Sophia, her Jupiter-found knowledge telling her -they were traveling an unthinkable distance. "For some final contest -between us, no doubt, to decide whether the U.S.S.R. or the U.S. -represents Earth? Kit, I l--love you, but...." - -"But Russia is more important, huh?" - -"No. I didn't say that. All my training has been along those lines, -though, and even if I'm aware it is indoctrination, the fact still -remains. If your country is truly better, but if I have seen your -country only through the eyes of Pravda, how can I ... I don't know, -Kit. Let me think." - -"You needn't," said Arkalion, smiling. "If the two of you would let -me get on with it you'd see this particular train of thought is -meaningless, quite meaningless." Arkalion cleared his throat. - -"Strange, but I have much the same problem as Sophia has. My -indoctrination was far more subtle though. Far more convincing, based -upon eons of propaganda methods. Temple, Sophia, those who initiated -the Nowhere Journey for hundreds of worlds of your galaxy did so with a -purpose." - -"I know. To decide who gets their vast knowledge." - -"Wrong. To find suitable hosts in a one-way relationship which is -hardly symbiosis, really out and out parasitism." - -"What?" - -And Sophia: "What are you talking about?" - -"The sick, decadent, tired old creatures you consider your superiors. -Parasites. They need hosts in order to survive. Their old hosts have -been milked dry, have become too highly specialized, are now incapable -physically or emotionally of meeting a wide variety of environmental -challenges. The Nowhere Journey is to find a suitable new host. They -have found one. You of Earth." - -"I don't understand," Temple said, remembering the glowing accounts of -the 'superboys' he had been given by his brother Jason. "I just don't -get it. How can we be duped like that? Wouldn't someone have figured it -out? And if they have all the power everyone says, there isn't much we -can do about it, anyway." - -Arkalion scowled darkly. "Then write Earth's obituary. You'll need one." - -"Go ahead," Sophia told Arkalion. "There's more you want to say." - -"All right. Temple's thought is correct. They have tremendous power. -That is why you could be duped so readily. But their power is not -concentrated here. These much-faster-than-light ships are an extreme -rarity, for the power-drive no longer exists. Five ships in all, I -believe. Hardly enough to invade a planet, even for them. It takes them -thousands of years to get here otherwise. Thousands. Just as it took -me, when I came to Mars and Earth in the first place." - -"What?" cried Temple. "You...." - -"I am one of them. Correct. I suppose you would call me a subversive, -but I have made up my mind. Parasitism is unsatisfactory, when the -Maker got us started on symbiosis. Somewhere along the line, evolution -took a wrong turn. We are--monsters." - -"What do you look like?" Sophia demanded while Temple stood there -shaking his head and muttering to himself. - -"You couldn't see me, I am afraid. I was the representative here -to see how things were going, and when my people found you of the -Earth divided yourselves into two camps they realized they had been -considering your abilities in halves. Put together, you are probably -the top culture of your galaxy." - -"So, we win," said Temple. - -"Right and wrong. You lose. Earthmen will become hosts. Know what a -back-seat driver is, Temple? You would be a back seat driver in your -own body. Thinking, feeling, wanting to make decisions, but unable to. -Eating when the parasite wants to, sleeping at his command, fighting, -loving, living as he wills it. And perishing when he wants a new -garment. Oh, they offer something in return. Their culture, their way -of life, their scientific, economic, social system. It's good, too. -But not worth it. Did you know that their economic struggle between -democratic capitalism and totalitarian communism ended almost half a -million years ago? What they have now is a system you couldn't even -understand." - -"Well," Temple mused, "even if everything you said were true--" - -"Don't tell me you don't believe me?" - -"If it were true and we wanted to do something about it, what could we -do?" - -"Now, nothing. Nothing but delay things by striking swiftly and letting -fifty centuries of time perform your rearguard action. Destroy the one -means your enemy has of reaching Earth within foreseeable time and you -have destroyed his power to invade for a hundred centuries. He can -still reach Earth, but the same way you journeyed to Nowhere. Ten -thousand years of space travel in suspended animation. You saw me that -way once, Temple, and wondered. You thought I was dead, but that is -another story. - -"Anyway, let my people invade your planet, ten thousand years hence. -If Earth takes the right direction, if democracy and free thought and -individual enterprise win over totalitarian standardization as I think -they will, your people will be more than a match for the decadent -parasites who may or may not have sufficient initiative to cross space -the slow way and attempt invasion in ten thousand years." - -"Ten thousand?" said Temple. - -"Five from Earth to Nowhere. The distance to my home is far greater, -but the rate of travel can be increased. Ten thousand years." - -"Tell me," Temple demanded abruptly, "is this a dream?" - -Arkalion smiled. "Yes and no. It is not a dream like the others because -I assure you your bodies are not now resting on a pair of identical -white tables. Still in the other dreams physical things could happen -to you, while now you'll find you can do things as in a dream. For -example, neither one of you knows the intricacies of a spaceship, yet -if you are to save your planet, you must know the operation of the most -intricate of all space ships, a giant space station." - -"Then we're not dreaming?" asked Temple. - -"I never said that. Consider this sequence of events about half way -between the dream stage you have already seen and reality itself. -Remember this: you'll have to work together; you'll have to function -like machines. You will be handling totally alien equipment with only -the sort of knowledge which can be played into your brains to guide -you." - -Sophia sighed. "Being an American, Kit is too much of an individual to -help in such a situation." - -Temple snorted. "Being a cog in a simple, state-wide machine is one -thing--orienting yourself in a totally new situation is another." - -"Yes, well--" - -"See?" Arkalion cautioned. "See? Already you are arguing, but you must -work together completely, with not the slightest conflict between you. -As it is, you hardly have a chance." - -"What about you?" said Sophia practically. "Can't you help?" - -Arkalion shook his head. "No. While I'd like to see you come out of -this thing on top, I would not like to sacrifice my life for it--which -is exactly what I'd do if I remained with you and you lost. - -"So, let's get down to detail. Imagine space being folded, imagine your -time sense slowing, imagine a new dimension which negates the need -for extensive linear travel, imagine anything you want--but we are in -the process of moving nine hundred thousand light years through deep -space. There is a great galaxy at that distance, almost a twin of your -Milky Way: you call it the Andromeda Nebula. Closer to your own system -are the two Magellanic Clouds, so called, something else which you -table NGC 6822, and finally the Triangulum Galaxy. All have billions -of stars, but none of the stars have life. To find life outside your -galaxy you must seek it across almost a million light years. My people -live in Andromeda. - -"Guarding the flank of their galaxy and speeding through inter-galactic -space at many light years per minute is what you might call a space -station--but on a scale you've never dreamed of. Five of your miles in -diameter, it is a fortress of terrible strength, a storehouse of half a -million years of weapon development. It has been arranged that the one -man running this station--" - -"Just one?" Temple asked. - -"Yes. You will see why when you get there. It has been arranged that -he will leave, ostensibly on a scouting expedition. You see, I am not -alone in this venture. At any rate, he will report that the space -station has been taken--as, indeed, it will be, by the two of you. The -only ships capable of overtaking your station in its flight will be the -only ships capable of reaching your galaxy before cultural development -gives you a chance to survive. They will attack you. You will destroy -them--or be destroyed yourselves. Any questions?" - -The whole thing sounded fantastic to Temple. Could the fate of all -Earth rest on their shoulders in a totally alien environment? Could -they be expected to win? Temple had no reason to doubt the former, as -wild as it sounded. As for the latter, all he could do was hope. "Tell -me," he said, "how will we learn the use of all the weapons you claim -are at our disposal?" - -"Can you answer that for him, Sophia?" Arkalion wanted to know. - -"Umm, I think so. The same way I had all sorts of culture crammed into -me on Jupiter." - -"Precisely. Only take it from me our refinement is far better, and the -amount you have to learn actually is less." - -"What I'd like to know--" Sophia began. - -"Forget it. I want some sleep and you'll learn everything that's -necessary at the space station." - -And after that, ply Arkalion as they would with questions, he slumped -down in his chair and rested. Temple could suddenly understand and -appreciate. He felt like curling up into a tight little ball himself -and sleeping until everything was over, one way or the other. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -"It's all so big! So incredible! We'll never understand it! Never...." - -"Relax, Sophia. Arkalion said--" - -"I know what Arkalion said, but we haven't learned anything yet." - -Hours before, Arkalion had landed them on the space station, a -gleaming, five-mile in diameter globe, and had quickly departed. Soon -after that they had found themselves in a veritable labyrinth of -tunnels, passageways, vaults. Occasionally they passed a great glowing -screen, and always the view of space was the same. Like a magnificent, -elongated shield, sparkling with a million million points of light, -pale gold, burnished copper, blue of glacial ice and silver white, the -Andromeda Galaxy spanned space from upper right to lower left. Off -at the lower right hand corner they could see their space station; -apparently the viewer itself stood far removed in space, projecting its -images here at the globe. - -Awed the first time they had seen one of the screens, Temple said, "All -the poets who ever wrote a line would have given half their lives to -see this as we see it now." - -"And all the writers, musicians, artists...." - -"Anyone who ever thought creatively, Sophia. How can you say it's -breathtaking or anything like that when words weren't ever spoken which -can...." - -"Let's not go poetic just yet," Sophia admonished him with a smile. -"We'd better get squared away here, as the expression goes, before it's -too late." - -"Yes.... Hello, what's this?" A door irised open for them in a solid -wall of metal. Irised was the only word Temple could think of, for -a tiny round hole appeared in the wall spreading evenly in all -directions with a slow, uniform, almost liquid motion. When it was -large enough to walk through, they entered a completely bare room and -Temple whirled in time to see the entrance irising shut. - -"Something smells," said Sophia, sniffing at the air. - -Sweet and cloying, the odor grew stronger. Temple may have heard a -faint hissing sound. "I'm getting sleepy," he said. - -Nodding, Sophia ran, banged on the wall where the door had opened so -suddenly, then closed. No response. "Is it a trap?" - -"By whom? For what?" Temple found it difficult to keep his eyes from -closing. "Fight it if you want, Sophia. I'm going to sleep." And he -squatted in the center of the floor, staring vacantly at the bare wall. - -Just as Temple was drifting off into a dream about complex machinery he -did not yet understand but realized he soon would, Sophia joined him -the hard way, collapsing alongside of him, unconscious and sprawling -gracelessly on the floor. - -Temple slept. - - * * * * * - -"Sleepy-head, get up." Sophia stirred as he spoke and shook her. She -yawned, stretched, smiled up at him lazily. "How do you feel now?" - -"Hungry, Kit." - -"That's a point. It's all right now, though. I know exactly where the -food concentrates are kept. Three levels below us, second segment of -the wall. You can make those queer doors iris by pressing the wall -twice, with about a one second interval." - -They found the food compartment, discovered row on row of cans, boxes, -jars. Temple opened one of the cans, gazed in disappointment on a sorry -looking thing the size of his thumb. Brown, shriveled, dry and almost -flaky, it might have been a bird. - -Sophia turned up her nose. "If that's the best this place has to offer, -I'm not so hungry anymore." - -Suddenly, she gaped. So did Temple. A savory odor attracted their -attention, steam rising from the small can added to their interest. -Amazing things happened to the withered scrap of food on exposure to -the air. Temple barely had time to extract it from the can, burning his -fingers in the process, when it became twice the can's size. It grew -and by the time it finished, it was as savory looking a five pound fowl -as Temple had ever seen. Roasted, steaming hot, ready to eat. - -They tore into it with savage gusto. - -"Stephanie should see me now," Temple found himself saying and -regretted it. - -"Stephanie? Who's that?" - -"A girl." - -"Your girl?" - -"What's the difference. She's a million light years and fifty centuries -away." - -"Answer me." - -"Yes," said Temple, wishing he could change the subject. "My girl." -He hadn't thought of Stephanie in a long time, perhaps because it was -meaningless to think of someone dead fifty centuries. Now that the -thoughts had been stirred within him, though, he found them poignantly -pleasant. - -"Your girl ... and you would marry her if you could?" - -He had grown attached to Sophia, not in reality, but in the second of -their dream worlds. He wished the memory of the dream had not lingered -for it disturbed him. In it he had loved Sophia as much as he now -loved Stephanie although the one was obtainable and the other was a -five-thousand year pinch of dust. And how much of the dream lingered -with him, in his head and his heart? - -"Let's forget about it," Temple suggested. - -"No. If she were here today and if everything were normal, would you -marry her?" - -"Why talk about what can't be?" - -"I want to know, that's why." - -"All right. Yes, I would. I would marry Stephanie." - -"Oh," said Sophia. "Then what happened in the dream meant ... nothing." - -"We were two different people," Temple said coolly, then wished he -hadn't for it was only half-true. He remembered everything about -the dream-which-was-more-than-a-dream vividly. He had been far more -intimate with Sophia, and over a longer period of time, than he had -ever been with Stephanie. And even if Stephanie appeared impossibly on -the spot and he spent the rest of his life as her husband, still he -would never forget his dream-life with Sophia. In time he could let -himself tell her that. But not now; now the best thing he could do -would be to change the subject. - -"I see," Sophia answered him coldly. - -"No, you don't. Maybe some day you will." - -"There's nothing but what you told me. I see." - -"No ... forget it," he told her wearily. - -"Of course. It was only a dream anyway. The dream before that I -almost killed you out of hatred anyway. Love and hate, I guess they -neutralize. We're just a couple of people who have to do a job -together, that's all." - -"For gosh sakes, Sophia! That isn't true. I loved Stephanie. I still -would, were Stephanie alive. But she's--she's about as accessible as -the Queen of Sheba." - -"So? There's an American expression--you're carrying a torch." - -Probably, Temple realized, it was true. But what did all of that have -to do with Sophia? If he and Sophia ... if they ... would it be fair to -Sophia? It would be exactly as if a widower remarried, with the memory -of his first wife set aside in his heart ... no, different, for he had -never wed Stephanie, and always in him would be the desire for what -had never been. - -"Let's talk about it some other time," Temple almost pleaded, wanting -the respite for himself as much as for Sophia. - -"No. We don't have to talk about it ever. I won't be second best, Kit. -Let's forget all about it and do our job. I--I'm sorry I brought the -whole thing up." - -Temple felt like an unspeakable heel. And, anyway, the whole thing -wasn't resolved in his mind. But they couldn't just let it go at that, -not in case something happened when the ships came and one or both -of them perished. Awkwardly, for now he felt self-conscious about -everything, he got his arms about Sophia, drew her to him, placed his -lips to hers. - -That was as far as he got. She wrenched free, shoved clear of him. "If -you try that again, you will have another dislocated jaw." - -Temple shrugged wearily. If anything were to be resolved between them, -it would be later. - -When the ships came moments afterwards--seven, not the five Arkalion -predicted--they were completely unprepared. - -Temple spotted them first on one of the viewing screens, half way -between the receiver and the space station itself, silhouetted against -the elongated shield of Andromeda. They soared out of the picture, -appeared again minutes later, zooming in from the other direction in -two flights of four ships and three. - -"Come on!" Sophia cried over her shoulder, irising the door and -plunging from the room. Temple followed at her heels but her Jupiter -trained muscles pushed her lithe legs in long, powerful strides and -soon she outdistanced him. By the time he reached the armaments vault, -breathless, she was seated at the single gun-emplacement, her fingers -on the controls. - -"Watch the viewing screen and tell me how we're doing," Sophia told -him, not taking her eyes from the dials and levers. - -Temple watched, fascinated, saw a thin pencil of radiant energy leap -out into space, missing one of the ships by what looked like a scant -few miles. He called the corrective azimuth to her, hardly surprised by -the way his mind had absorbed and now could use its new-found knowledge. - -Temple understood and yet did not understand. For example, he knew the -station had but one gun and Sophia sat at it now, yet in certain ways -it didn't make sense. Could it cover all sectors of space? His mind -supplied the answer although he had not been aware of the knowledge -an instant before: yes. The space station did not merely rotate. Its -surface was a spherical projection of a moving Moebius strip and -although he tried to envision the concept, he failed. The weapon could -be fired at any given point in space at twenty second intervals, -covering every other conceivable point in the ensuing time. - -Sophia was firing again and Temple watched the thin beam leap across -space. "Hit!" he roared. "Hit!" - -Something flashed at the front end of the lead ship. The light -blinded him, but when he could see again only six ships remained in -space--casting perfect shadows on the Andromeda Galaxy! The source of -light, Temple realized triumphantly, was out of range, but he could -picture it--a glowing derelict of a ship, spewing heat, light and -radioactivity into the void. - -"One down," Sophia called. "Six to go. I like your American -expressions. Like sitting ducks--" - -She did not finish. Abruptly, light flared all around them. Something -shrieked in Temple's ears. The vault shuddered, shook. Girders -clattered to the floor, stove it in, revealing black rock. Sophia was -thrown back from the single gun, crashing against the wall, flipping in -air and landing on her stomach. - -Temple ran to her, turned her over. Blood smeared her face, trickled -from her lips. Although she did not move, she wasn't dead. Temple half -dragged, half carried her from the vault into an adjoining room. He -stretched her out comfortably as he could on the floor, ran back into -the vault. - -Molten metal had collected in one corner of the room, crept sluggishly -toward him across the floor, heating it white-hot. He skirted it, -climbed over a twisted girder, pushed his way past other debris, found -himself at the gun emplacement. - -"How dumb can I get?" Temple said aloud. "Sophia ran to the gun, -must have assumed I set up the shields." Again, it was an item of -information stored in his mind by the wisdom of the space station. -Protective shields made it impossible for anything but a direct hit -on the emplacement to do them any harm, only Temple had never set -the shields in place. He did so now, merely by tripping a series of -levers, but glancing at a dial to his left he realized with alarm that -the damage possibly had already been done. The needle, which measured -lethal radiation, hovered half way between negative and the critical -area marked in red and, even as Temple watched it, crept closer to the -red. - - * * * * * - -How much time did he have? Temple could not be sure, bent grimly over -the weapon. It was completely unfamiliar to his mind, completely -unfamiliar to his fingers. He toyed with it, released a blast of -radiant energy, whirled to face the viewing screen. The beam streaked -out into the void, clearly hundreds of miles from its objective. - -Cursing, Temple tried again, scoring a near miss. The ships were -trading a steady stream of fire with him now, but with the shielding -up it was harmless, striking and then bouncing back into space. Temple -scored his first hit five minutes after sitting down at the gun, -whooped triumphantly and fired again. Five ships left. - -But the dial indicated an increase in radioactivity as newly created -neutrons spread their poison like a cancer. Behind Temple, the vault -was a shambles. The pool of molten metal had increased in size, almost -cutting off any possibility of escape. He could jump it now, Temple -realized, but it might grow larger. Consolidating its gains now, it had -sheared a pit in the floor, had commenced vaporizing the rock below it, -hissing and lapping with white-hot insistence. - -Something boomed, grated, boomed again and Temple watched another -girder bounce off the floor, dip one end into the molten pool and -clatter out a stub. Apparently the damage was extensive; a structural -weakness threatened to make the entire ceiling go. - -Temple fired again, got another ship. He could almost feel death -breathing on his shoulder, in no great hurry but sure of its prize. He -fired the weapon. - -If one ship remained when they could no longer use the gun, they would -have failed. One ship might make the difference for Earth. One.... - -Three left. Two. - -They raked the space station with blast after blast--futilely. They -spun and twisted and streaked by, offering poor targets. Temple waited -his chance ... and glanced at the dial which measured radioactivity. -He yelped, stood up. The needle had encroached upon the red area. -Death to remain where he was more than a moment or two. Not quick -death, but rather slow and lingering. He could do what he had to, -then perish hours later. His life--for Earth? If Arkalion had known -all the answers, and if he could get both ships and if there weren't -another alternative for the aliens, the parasites.... Temple stabbed -out with his pencil beam, caught the sixth ship, then saw the needle -dip completely into the red. He got up trembling, stepped back, half -tripped on the stump of a girder as his eyes strayed in fascination to -the viewing screen. The seventh ship was out of range, hovering off -in the void somewhere, awaiting its chance. If Temple left the gun -the ship would come in close enough to hit the emplacement despite its -protective shielding. Well, it was suicide to remain there--especially -when the ship wasn't even in view. - -Temple leaped over the molten pool and left the vault. - - * * * * * - -He found Sophia stirring, sitting up. - -"What hit me?" she said, and laughed. "Something seems to have gone -wrong, Kit ... what...?" - -"It's all right now," he told her, lying. - -"You look pale." - -"You got one. I got five. One ship to go." - -"What are you waiting for?" And Sophia sprang to her feet, heading for -the vault. - -"Hold it!" Temple snapped. "Don't go in there." - -"Why not. I'll get the last ship and--" - -"_Don't go in there!_" Temple tugged at her arm, pulled her away from -the vault and its broken door which would not iris closed any more. - -"What's the matter, Kit?" - -"I--I want to finish the last one myself, that's all." - -Sophia got herself loose, reached the circular doorway, peered inside. -"Like Dante's Inferno," she said. "You told me nothing was the matter. -Well, we can get through to the emplacement, Kit." - -"No." And again he stopped her. At least he had lived in freedom all -his life and although he was still young and did not want to die, -Sophia had never known freedom until now and it wouldn't be right if -she perished without savoring its fruits. He had a love, dust fifty -centuries, he had his past and his memories. Sophia had only the -future. Clearly, if someone had to yield life, Temple would do it. - -"It's worse than it looks," he told her quietly, drawing her back -from the door again. He explained what had happened, told her the -radioactivity had not quite reached critical point--which was a lie. -"So," he concluded, "we're wasting time. If I rush in there, fire, and -rush right out everything will be fine." - -"Then let me. I'm quicker than you." - -"No. I--I'm more familiar with the gun." Dying would not be too bad, if -he went with reasonable certainty he had saved the Earth. No man ever -died so importantly, Temple thought briefly, then felt cold fear when -he realized it would be dying just the same. He fought it down, said: -"I'll be right back." - -Sophia looked at him, smiling vaguely. "Then you insist on doing it?" - -When he nodded she told him, "Then,--kiss me. Kiss me now, Kit--in case -something...." - -Fiercely, he swept her to him, bruising her lips with his. "Sophia, -Sophia...." - -At last, she drew back. "Kit," she said, smiling demurely. She took his -right hand in her left, held it, squeezed it. Her own right hand she -suddenly brought up from her waist, fist clenched, driving it against -his jaw. - -Temple fell, half stunned by the blow, at her feet. For the space of a -single heartbeat he watched her move slowly toward the round doorway, -then he had clambered to his feet, running after her. He got his arms -on her shoulders, yanked at her. - -When she turned he saw she was crying. "I--I'm sorry, Kit. You couldn't -fool me about ... Stephanie. You can't fool me about this." She had -more leverage this time. She stepped back, bringing her small, hard -fist up from her knees. It struck Temple squarely at the point of the -jaw, with the strength of Jovian-trained muscle behind it. Temple's -feet left the floor and he landed with a thud on his back. His last -thought of Sophia--or of anything, for a while--made him smile faintly -as he lost consciousness. For a kiss she had promised him another -dislocated jaw, and she had kept her promise.... - - * * * * * - -Later, how much later he did not know, something soft cushioned his -head. He opened his eyes, stared through swirling, spinning murk. He -focused, saw Arkalion. No--two Arkalions standing off at a distance, -watching him. He squirmed, knew his head was cushioned in a woman's -lap. He sighed, tried to sit up and failed. Soft hands caressed his -forehead, his cheeks. A face swam into vision, but mistily. "Sophia," -he murmured. His vision cleared. - -It was Stephanie. - - * * * * * - -"It's over," said Arkalion. - -"We're on our way back to Earth, Kit." - -"But the ships--" - -"All destroyed. If my people want to come here in ten thousand years, -let them try. I have a hunch you of Earth will be ready for them." - -"It took us five thousand to reach Nowhere," Temple mused. "It will -take us five thousand to return. We'll come barely in time to warn -Earth--" - -"Wrong," said Arkalion. "I still have my ship. We're in it now, so -you'll reach Earth with almost fifty centuries to spare. Why don't you -forget about it, though? If human progress for the next five thousand -years matches what has been happening for the last five, the parasites -won't stand a chance." - -"Earth--five thousand years in the future," Stephanie said dreamily. -"I wonder what it will be like.... Don't be so startled, Kit. I was a -pilot study on the Nowhere Journey. If I made it successfully, other -women would have been sent. But now there won't be any need." - -"I wouldn't be too sure of that," said the real Alaric Arkalion III. -"I suspect a lot of people are going to feel just like me. Why not -go out and colonize space. We can do it. Wonderful to have a frontier -again.... Why, a dozen billionaires will appear for every one like my -father. Good for the economy." - -"So, if we don't like Earth," said Stephanie, "we can always go out." - -"I have a strong suspicion you will like it," said Arkalion's double. - -Alaric III grinned. "What about you, bud? I don't want a twin brother -hanging around all the time." - -Arkalion grinned back at him. "What do you want me to do, young man? -I've forsaken my people. This is now my body. Tell you what, I promise -to be always on a different continent. Earth isn't so small that I'll -get in your hair." - -Temple sat up, felt the bandages on his jaw. He smiled at Stephanie, -told her he loved her and meant it. It was exactly as if she had -returned from the grave and in his first exultation he hadn't even -thought of Sophia, who had perished all alone in the depths of space -that a world might live.... - -He turned to Arkalion. "Sophia?" - -"We found her dead, Kit. But smiling, as if everything was worth it." - -"It should have been me." - -"Whoever Sophia was," said Stephanie, "she must have been a wonderful -woman, because when you got up, when you came to, her name was...." - -"Forget it," said Temple. "Sophia and I have a very strange -relationship and...." - -"All right, you said forget it. Forget it." Stephanie smiled down at -him. "I love you so much there isn't even room for jealousy.... -Ummm ... Kit...." - -"Break up that clinch," ordered Arkalion. "We're making one more stop -at Nowhere to pick up anyone who wants to return to Earth. Some of 'em -probably won't but those who do are welcome...." - -"Jason will stay," Temple predicted. "He'll be a leader out among the -stars." - -"Then he'll have to climb over my back," Alaric III predicted happily, -his eyes on the viewport hungrily. - -Temple's jaw throbbed. He was tired and sleepy. But satisfied. Sophia -had died and for that he was sad, but there would always be a place -deep in his heart for the memory of her: delicious, somehow exotic, -not a love the way Stephanie was, not as tender, not as sure ... but -a feeling for Sophia that was completely unique. And whenever the -strangeness of the far-future Earth frightened Temple, whenever he -felt a situation might get the better of him, whenever doubt clouded -judgment, he would remember the tall lithe girl who had walked to her -death that a world might have the freedom she barely had tasted. And -together with Stephanie he would be able to do anything. - -Unless, he thought dreamily as he drifted off to sleep, his head -pillowed again on Stephanie's lap, he'd wind up with a bum jaw the rest -of his life. - - * * * * * - -Milton Lesser started reading science-fiction in 1939, and began -writing it in 1949. Since then he has had a myriad stories and novels -published under many pen-names. Of this novel, he writes: - - "Along with a lot of other people, I like to write about the first - interstellar voyage. The reason is simple. Once mankind gets out - to the stars and begins to spread out across the galaxy, he'll be - immortal despite his best--make that _worst_--efforts to destroy - himself. You can destroy a world, maybe a dozen worlds, but spread - humanity out thin among the stars, colonies here, there, and all - over, and he's immortal. He'll live as long as there's a universe - to hold him. - - "I know interstellar travel is a long way off, but science has a way - of leaping ahead in geometric, not arithmetic progression. A hundred - years? Perhaps we'll have our first starship then. Let's hope so. - For if man can survive the next hundred years--the hardest hundred, - I believe--he'll reach the stars and go on forever." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Recruit for Andromeda, by Milton Lesser - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RECRUIT FOR ANDROMEDA *** - -***** This file should be named 50449.txt or 50449.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/4/4/50449/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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