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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. 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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: The Silver Plague - -Author: Albert dePina - -Release Date: October 21, 2020 [EBook #63524] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER PLAGUE *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>The Silver Plague</h1> - -<h2>By ALBERT DE PINA</h2> - -<p>Like a tide, the horror of the silver<br /> -death was sweeping to inundate the<br /> -inhabited worlds—with only Varon to<br /> -halt its flood—and he was already<br /> -marked by the plague he fought.</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1945.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Fermin, the <i>Arch-Mutant</i>, had risen before dawn and in the -garnet-colored light that passed for morning on Ganymede, repaired to -the magnificent austerity of his cloister where he received an endless -series of reports.</p> - -<p>He had been reading <i>Seville-Lorca</i> the previous evening, delighting -in the incredible pages which had been the great historians' dying -contribution to their worlds, and to which he had every intention of -adding an ironic anti-climax of his own. He sat in an austere Jadite -chair basking in the archaic warmth of an open hearth, and watched -whimsically for a moment how the darting flames reflected a bright -patina on the fur of the somnolent Felirene at his feet. There was -a chapter on the Jovian Societies he wanted to re-read. Not for -the brilliant, facile style in which <i>Seville-Lorca</i> presented the -distilled chronicles of the Jovian Moons, but for that deeper purport -which is the notation of the heart.</p> - -<p>Slowly, Fermin became absorbed in the photo-plastic record on the stand -before him, unrolling in synchronized timing with his own reading speed.</p> - -<p>"... It seems natural, I suppose, human nature being as it is—that the -Mother Planet should maintain an attitude of supercilious aloofness. -But then, it is axiomatic we can never quite love those we have -wronged. And the history of the colonization of the major Jovian Moons -is anything but exalting.</p> - -<p>"When at the close of the 'Great Unrest,' as the twenty-third century -is popularly known, it was definitely established that the ratio of -Mutants to the grand total of normal populations was becoming an -increasingly dangerous potential, they were given their choice of a -charter to the newly explored Jovian Moons—a magnanimous gesture -which ignored with olympic indifference the fact that at least -one—Ganymede—had already a civilization of its own.</p> - -<p>"The fact that 'Mutants' were the direct result of malignant rays and -fiendish gases to which their ancestors had been exposed during the -endless wars that ravaged Terra until the twenty-second century, thus -damaging and modifying their chromosomes until Mutants began to appear -in increasing numbers, was beside the point.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Terra was not interested in 'origins' it was only interested in -'conclusions'—and that the sooner the better! For these silver-haired -Mutants the color of old ivory, with the piercing silver-grey eyes, -were a constant reminder of a recent barbarism, of fratricidal wars so -damning that the new apostles of the 'Great Peace' would rather avert -their minds. Besides, and this was the deciding factor, the Mutants' -infinite capacity for intrigue bid fair to upset Terra's idyllic -applecart!</p> - -<p>"For in a world devoid of want, where strife had ceased under -scientific control, where obedience was taken for granted, and -robot-labor performed an endless variety of tasks, the blessed Mutants -found ways and means of fomenting discontent with admirable logic. Had -it been confined to their own ranks, it would have been no problem at -all, for as yet their number were negligible—scarcely a million. But -the perversity of human nature is sometimes appalling to behold; thus, -under the persuasive eloquence of the Mutants, great numbers of the -population of the World State began audibly to long for freedom!</p> - -<p>"What manner of freedom they longed for, was a little difficult for -the World-Council to establish. For surely, in the face of universal -plenty, freedom from want had been accomplished. Since the Government -was a benevolent bureaucracy staffed by scientists, oppression was -unknown. And, in the absence of need for labor, thanks to robots, -anyone could and did pursue such bents and careers as best suited them, -within certain limits. Even pleasure palaces; rejuvenation centers—and -pleasures had been socialized. The Government furnished Cinemils, mild -stimulants; even the more esoteric delights to all who performed a -minimum of work per day.</p> - -<p>"Of course, we now know (thanks to three hundred years of perspective), -what the World-State failed to perceive: That human beings need not so -much 'Freedom' per se, as the 'conditions of freedom.' For in a Social -Order where everything is provided without effort, effort itself is -hopelessly circumscribed. Where the 'Will to Achievement' is subtly -neutralized by an established way of life, that precludes 'friction,' -such a 'Will' becomes atrophied and progress stagnant. Just as -'resignation' is an inadequate word to describe the psychic exhaustion -of a wounded soldier who contemplates with indifference the immediacy -of death, so is 'exaltation' insufficient to describe the spiritual -change that came over large segments of the World-State under the fine -ivory hands of the Mutants.</p> - -<p>"Fortunately, the Terran Government had the wit to sense an impending -explosion that would have scattered their precious 'Peace' to Kingdom -Come. Thus began the hurried exodus of both Mutants and malcontents -to the Jovian system of Moons. The Mutants went first by unanimous -decision of the Council. They demanded to be taken to Ganymede, where -with a sigh of infinite relief (on the part of the World-State), -they were deposited bag and baggage. Then the malcontents were taken -to Callisto, to Io, to Europa, and some even to one or two of those -smaller Moons hardly bigger than asteroids. Even in exile, however, the -parental hand of Terra followed its strange and wayward children.</p> - -<p>"For we can suppose without fear of error, that the stately World-State -Government felt much as an old and weary hen that has hatched a -particularly bewildering brood of ducks. Deep in its heart, Terra felt -a guilty sense of blame, and had anyone been able to reach that cold -and battered throne, he would have discovered the angry pity and vast -misgivings with which it undertook the colonization of the Moons.</p> - -<p>"But as usual, they failed to take into consideration the -'Unpredictable,' that cosmic accident that recurs always in the lives -of men—thus the World-State never even dreamed of what were later on -to be called 'The Societies.'"</p> - -<p>Fermin the Arch-Mutant paused meditatively in his reading, and wondered -with faint amusement if <i>Seville-Lorca</i> peering from the summit of some -remote Nirvana could see the stupendous drama that was being enacted in -the Moons, and write on the spectral pages of a book, a new addition -to his "<i>Annals</i>." But his sardonic reverie was suddenly arrested in -mid-flight, for at his feet the great, golden <i>Felirene</i> had stirred -with the preternatural awareness of the feline, its immense green eyes -feral as it sensed....</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">I</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>O Moon of my delight</i></div> - <div class="verse">That knows no waning..."</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Terra—19th Century.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>In the semi-darkness, the vast crysto-plast observatory was deserted. -For the fifteen Tiers devoted to the feast, overflowed with celebrants -who observed the three hundredth anniversary of their landing.</p> - -<p>All Io seemed devoted to the chief preoccupation in their lives, and, -had managed to make of an historic fact, the excuse for a planet-wide -bacchanale. Julian Varon removed his black silk mask and stepped to the -wide balcony overhanging the plains. The frosty air was like a benison -on his narrow, high-cheek-boned face, and the silence was a greater -blessing still. Vaguely, he remembered the lines of an ancient poem of -the twentieth century, which, by one of those ironies of Fate, had been -preserved when far greater masterpieces had faded into oblivion:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>The brandy's very good—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Blue space before me and no sign of man.</i>"</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Meditatively, he raised the fragile Bacca-glass to his lips and sipped -the fiery liquor that Ionians distilled from the fragrant stems and -leaves of the <i>Clavile</i> plant. For days, his mind had whirled in -hopeless circles, and he wondered with a curious sense of detachment, -whether he wouldn't be better off to leave the problem to the -scientists. Only, it was his duty as much as any scientist, to search -for clues.</p> - -<p>Julian raised his eyes and gazed at the great tiers of stars that -glittered above the towering, purple crags of the <i>Mallar</i> range. -Throughout the hours of the Ionian night, the skies had been peopled by -the singing of these constellations. But there had been none to hear -it, for despite the ravages of the <i>Silver Plague</i>, the inhabited Moons -of Jupiter had gone mad with revelry, as if they would distill the last -drop of pleasure from each passing hour that brought them closer and -closer to extinction.</p> - -<p>"I wonder," Julian spoke aloud, "why decadence always hastens the tempo -of pleasure!" He smiled acidly as his own voice sounded strange in his -ears. Below him, the blazing tiers within the transparent enveloped, -that was Atalanta, capital of Io, the great Galilean satellite, -sparkled polychromatically in the night. In the utter silence, a stream -of music faint and far away, like a tiny goblin orchestra reached him, -as the icy wind plucked with elfin fingers at his cape.</p> - -<p>And something else reached him, too, that sent the blood racing through -his veins as his hypersensitive awareness of danger, translated the -sound of stifled breathing behind him into a signal for action.</p> - -<p>He whirled with a speed that was an index of Jovian training, for in -the vastly lighter gravities of the Moons, his muscular coordination -was breath-taking.</p> - -<p>Before him stood a Mutant in the act of crouching for a leap. He was -huge, squarely built, his silver mane standing straight out as he -sprang with a murderous rush. Julian stepped aside with calculated -ease and his left hand moved like a piston into the Mutant's face. -There was no time to seek the hidden "electro" under his arm-pit, and -power-rapiers had to be checked before entering pleasure palaces. The -Mutant bellowed with fury, and rammed a right deep into Julian's ribs, -then brought up his left and Julian tasted the claret in his mouth. The -silver-haired, silver-eyed being was obviously fighting to kill. And -suddenly Julian's vast amazement changed to a cold fury that turned his -blue-grey eyes to a smouldering black.</p> - -<p>He slid two sharp jabs into his enemy, then crossed his right and felt -bone give under his fist. He moved in, blasting with both fists like -rocket exhausts, and heard the Mutant's breath exploding from his body. -The Mutant with supreme effort tossed a fist grenade at him, but Julian -had caught the rhythm of the battle and swayed away with it; he made -the assailant miss again, then with all his dynamic power sent his -right hand crashing home.</p> - -<p>He saw the Mutant, face askew, slide drunkenly to the blood-patterned -floor. Then cool hands were on his wrists, on his brow, and sanity -began to return again.</p> - -<p>"Darling!" Narda said in a husky voice that was distilled music, and -drew down his golden head against a priceless gown that was all blue -shadows and pin-points of lights, to stanch the blood from his cut -lips. Her violet eyes were bright with unshed tears, but in the odd, -slurred melody of her haunting voice there was no tremor as she asked, -"What on Io's happened? Were you recognized by any chance? <i>And a -Mutant...!</i>"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Hardly think so ... still.... Oh, forget it, this is not a night for -problems. Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes are in Heaven," he -grinned irresistibly with a charm that made him seem younger.</p> - -<p>"No! None of your ... what was it your barbaric ancestors called -it?... <i>blarney!</i>" It was then she noticed the tell-tale silver flood -at the roots of his yellow mane, and her heart stood still. <i>The -Silver Plague!</i> Carefully she lighted a cigarette and blew a perfect -smoke-ring into the icy air, she brushed an imaginary tobacco speck -from lips that were like red roses. And when she spoke Narda was -perfectly calm.</p> - -<p>"I came to find you because they're going to play the <i>Ecstasiana</i> -with a native orchestra from Ganymede—the muted viols and flute-like -instruments, and those weird violins of that strange race.... We danced -it the first time we met. Remember, my dear?" Her eyes were radiant as -if all her tears were concentrated in her heart, leaving only their -sparkle behind.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He nodded silently. He was too full of the racking knowledge that all -his dreams had been destroyed by this alien malady that turned the hair -to gleaming silver, and rendered them sterile. That, and his terrible -love for this exquisite, gallant being who had consecrated her youth -and brains and loveliness to the only ideal in the chaos of their -lives—The <i>Dekka</i>. And as they turned to go, the tiny tele-rad on -Julian's wrist began to flash a pin-point of light in a complicated -code.</p> - -<p>They both watched instantly alert, translating the urgent message with -the ease of years of experience. The message was peremptory—final. -They were to repair to the Dekka's ancestral Hall without delay for a -plenary session. The laconic order ceased as the instrument went blank. -Julian Varon looked at Narda for a long moment. Then he shrugged his -shoulders. "We'll have to leave right away, it may be <i>emergency</i>!"</p> - -<p>Narda nodded. "We'll have barely time to change in the spacer."</p> - -<p>From below, the strain of the <i>Ecstasiana</i> rose to engulf them in a -flood of melody.</p> - -<p>She laid a sculptured hand on his arm. She was silent. She was waiting. -The <i>Dekka's</i> summons brooked no delay. For this was no game of mere -intrigue, but a gigantic fight instinct with the overwhelming drama -of the unseen. The huge Mutant on the floor groaned and rolled to one -knee. He had the strength and courage of a <i>Felirene</i>. He got up and -rushed with scorn and hatred written on his features. He came with all -rockets firing. Julian stood there in the battering storm and fought -back. He dug his left into the flesh of the Mutant inches deep, then -ripped a hook to his jaw. In the clinch that followed he could hear -Narda's sobbing breath, as the Mutant's laces pounded low; he countered -with secret, murderous tactics of his own. Then, he pulled the trigger -on his left hand, aiming with precision at a vital spot. He let it go. -He heard the Mutant crash against the floor and lay still. Julian stood -for a moment with his tongue on fire, his lungs heaving like bellows -with the effort. He bent down and forced himself to search the man, but -there were no clues on the giant.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>From above, Atalanta was like a gargantuan bottle left behind by some -god in his cups. Narda at the controls brought the intra-Moon spacer -spiraling down expertly to a landing behind a concealing rampart of -rock. Ahead of them a black, basaltic cliff reared its jagged crags, -its boulder-strewn base seemingly impassable. Nevertheless, the two -masked and cloaked figures hurried their steps toward the desolate -barrier.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p>Varon</p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"We're probably late!" Julian observed. "We seem to be the last to -arrive." He drew his dark, <i>Felirene</i>-lined cloak closer about him and -led the way forward.</p> - -<p>"Small loss if we've missed the preliminaries!" Narda replied. "I -wonder how much longer the <i>Dekka's</i> going to wait? For fifty years -Mutants have been appearing in our midst in small numbers—changed -overnight, rendered sterile—and the scientists did nothing about it. -Lately it has become a plague that threatens the Moons with extinction, -and still we're fumbling in the dark! Oh, Julian!" Her voice rose in an -ascending scale of grief.</p> - -<p>"Don't move!" Julian whispered harshly and froze into immobility. He'd -detected motion—something that had stirred among the boulders to his -right. Instinctively his fingers groped for the handle of the tiny -weapon under his arm-pit. No bigger than a toy-gun, its electronic -stream was devastating at close quarters. He aimed it at the spot where -he had sensed movement and fired as a darker shadow catapulted out of -the gloom.</p> - -<p>The spectral-blue beam of radiance from the weapon met the creature -in midair and melted a jagged hole in its side; there was a fiendish -scream of agony, then briefly a muffled tumult among the boulders.</p> - -<p>"What on Jupiter was it?"</p> - -<p>Narda stepped forward to investigate, but Julian stopped her. "No time -now." It mattered little what manner of beast had waylaid them. The -Jovian satellites, even frigid Callisto, had teemed with life of their -own before colonization by Man. And, since the Terrans had preferred -to build stupendous cities within transparent, berylo-plastic shields, -shaped like bottles, there had been small point in the systematic -destruction of native fauna. The cities were largely self-sustaining, -anyway. All commerce and intercourse was carried on by air. Only -adventurers and fools would venture into the wastelands ... adventurers -and fools, and perhaps, members of the <i>Dekka</i>.</p> - -<p>As they reached the base of the cliff, Julian glanced back at Narda and -smiled. "Be alert, I'm forcing issues tonight ... inaction's killing -me!" He was like a Martian eagle—poised for battle.</p> - -<p>Narda sensing his mood smiled thinly in the shadows.</p> - -<p>She wondered silently what new, macabre mission would be assigned to -them this time. And hoped that the summons meant something far more -than the usual battle between rival Societies striving to milk the -venom from each other's fangs. For on at least three major Moons, Io, -Europa and Callisto, men and women were struck by an invisible foe that -left them trembling with fever, and when that dwindled away, a tide of -silver rose from the roots of their hair, and even the eyes became -luminous with the deadly patina. Nothing was known of Ganymede. It was -hard to tell in the absence of reports, for Ganymede, aside from its -own native civilization, had been colonized by Terran Mutants, who -could and did procreate, thus perpetuating their race. But the victims -of the Silver Plague were left sterile. It was hard to differentiate. -Meanwhile the Moons were dying!</p> - -<p>And yet, a stubborn feeling in her heart kept insisting that perhaps -the <i>Plague</i> was something man-made, and like all poisons should have -an antidote. She glanced at Julian and shuddered with anguish—there -would be no progeny for them—her own turn might be next! What a -fiendish weapon, if <i>it was a weapon</i>, she thought. The ultimate in -refinement of warfare—a refinement that in their Moons had been going -on for three hundred years!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Narda shivered again, increasingly cold, as she let her mind rove -briefly over their past history and their centuries of spurious -peace. For nothing as crude as open, physical warfare disturbed ever -the equilibrium of the various Moons. On the surface, the various -governments maintained the most cordial relations—idyllic almost. -But underneath—that was a different story! The most ruthless strife -had never abated for even an hour. It might take the form of secretly -systematic destruction of vibroponic farms of a world desperately in -need of food; or perhaps the categorical embargo of essential supplies -non-existent in another Moon. Or the proselyting of vast members of -colonists from a sister world by means of economic lures. The loser -always paid enormous ransom in whatever it was the victor coveted.</p> - -<p>Thus the subterranean warfare was carried on by secret Societies, much -as hitherto the Ancients on Terra had employed secret agents, members -of the powerful "Intelligence." Only that on the "Moons," the Societies -had much greater power than the <i>laissez-faire</i> governments themselves. -Each Moon had its "Society," disavowed, legendary, invisible. They -maintained secret armies of Astro-operatives and space navies always in -readiness for <i>any</i> eventuality—or an initial <i>open</i> break that none -of them had the courage to be the first to start. But more important -still, in their vast, secret laboratories, armies of scientists and -technicians toiled ceaselessly on new techniques and inventions. -Delved into intricate psychological data that was a miracle of -ingenuity, calculated always to prepare as far as possible against the -<i>unpredictable</i>.</p> - -<p>The murmuring wind of Io swirled among the stones and laved them with -its icy caress, and Narda trembled violently again. This time the spasm -failed to abate, and she whispered through chattering teeth:</p> - -<p>"Please, Julian ... hurry. I'm chilled to the marrow ... d-dear...."</p> - -<p>"You're what?" His voice was suddenly a rasping in his throat.</p> - -<p>Julian straightened slowly from where he kneeled at the base of the -cliff, where he'd been activating the mechanism of the concealed -entrance with the wrist transmitter. He eyed the convulsed form of -Narda then touched her burning forehead; he noted the tendons corded -at her throat. A cold sweat of anguish beaded his brow as he said -casually, "It is cold, darling," and then he punched carefully, -precisely, and cried with agony as he felt his hand touch her flesh. -He caught her tenderly as she slumped in his arms without a sound. He -kissed her cold cheek and sought consolation in the fact that she would -not suffer the first harrowing convulsive fever of the Plague. It would -last for two hours. <i>How well he knew from experience the course of the -disease!</i> And he hoped Narda would not come to before then.</p> - -<p>Quickly he retraced his steps to where they had left the ship, and -deposited her inert form in the control room. Then he prepared a note -which he placed in her hand, it read: "<i>It was the kindest thing to do, -darling. Wait until I return. There's hope.</i>"</p> - -<p>He finally adjusted the wrist-transmitter to the exact wave-length -required to open the entrance to the <i>Dekka's</i> Hall of Sessions, raced -swiftly toward the cliff like a disembodied shadow. In the distance -a golden <i>Felirene</i> wailed its banshee love-call, urgent, savage—as -savage as the burning agony that stifled Julian's breath, and as -primordial.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">II</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>"For this is wisdom—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Not to love and live</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>But to question what Fate</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Or the Gods may give...."</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Terra—20th Century.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"I for one, have no intention of being sterilized by—shall we -say—remote control!" The sardonic voice paused for emphasis. That -would be <i>Astran</i>, Julian thought as he entered the great Hall, vast -enough to encompass an army. The satirical tones were all too familiar; -he had heard them many, many times during the years he had risen from -a mere Astro-operative, through the successive stages of "Facet," -Section-Facet Arch-Guardian; Techno-Star and finally had become -Control-Facet, representing the flat, top-most facet of the stupendous -jewel that hung above the Dais of the <i>Dekka</i>. "Dekkans," the voice -continued, "despite my great age, I can think of less inglorious ends -than to die impotent!" The flaming glory of the immense diamond cut in -the shape of a ten-point double star, veiled the speaker.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps we're not facing a conscious enemy at all—that is, none that -we have been able to discover," Astran amended with a dry chuckle -distilled of acid. "And believe me, the resources of the <i>Dekka</i> are -anything but negligible! However, it may be that through a weakening -of our race as a whole because of our existence under a different -environment than Earth, we have succumbed to a microorganism native -to these Moons, which originally were too alien to fit in mankind's -metabolic processes. But now, now that through centuries of adaptation -we have subtly changed. <i>It</i> ... whatever it is, filtrable virus, -microorganism, or whatever, <i>has had a chance to take hold</i>. All of -you know the effects of the disease—hypertrophy of pigmentation -glands—silver hair and eyes, as well as its one single deadly -result—<i>sterility</i>!" Astran paused on the ghastly thought and let it -sink in.</p> - -<p>"Our scientists have been unable to isolate the germ, it must be a -filtrable virus ... that is their problem. But, if as I suspect there -is a ... what was it the barbaric, ancient Romans called it?... a -<i>Deux ex machina</i> behind it, then, by the perdurable glory of our -Moon, gentlemen, I pledge a holocaust that'll dwarf Jupiter's Red Spot -into insignificance!" The capacity for destruction in Astran's cold, -dispassionate voice was awesome.</p> - -<p>In the ensuing silence, Julian's mind trained to the apex of its -wide-awakedness, felt the horror-vibration that swept the audience of -Dekkans. He saw the coruscating streamers of living fire that blazed -from the stupendous double star, and, with a feeling of shock saw -that ahead of him an Astro-operative's mask had slid imperceptibly to -one side, enough to expose a tell-tale <i>silver tide that had reached -half-an-inch above the hair-roots</i>!</p> - -<p>Casually almost, Julian moved with his strange, smooth elegance -over the ethereal blueness of the safiro-plast flooring, and the -imperturbable gaze of his frigid eyes probed into the suddenly startled -glare of the man. Without warning his hand flashed out and came away -with the torn mask. A wealth of hair that had been tinted gold but -showed unmistakable silver at the roots and parting cascaded to his -shoulders.</p> - -<p>The narrow face of the Mutant, with its thin, high-bridged nose and -silver eyes, flushed crimson as he was exposed, and the long claw-like -hand darted to his side, groping for the deadly Power-rapier that -was <i>de rigeur</i>. All in one sinuous motion he lunged with the weapon -that described a silver vortex under the fulgurant star. In the utter -silence Julian, too, had drawn.</p> - -<p>The breath of all present seemed to pause for a startled second, then -their ranks split to give them room. There could be no interference -in a duel, that was the law. There was courage in the Mutant, a -fanatical valor that was mirrored in his eyes. He knew his life to be -forfeit—and he intended to sell it as dearly as he possibly could.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Only the singing impact of the blades was heard, as the darting swords -parried and cut, swirling streamers of unleashed power. And suddenly, -the Mutant seemed to recoil upon himself, as if gathering all his -reserves of strength, then he launched himself forward in a vertiginous -fury of unholy speed. And that was his undoing, for Julian trained -under Jovian gravity could more than match it, and the Mutant staking -all on speed, had had to sacrifice his guard. There was a soundless -flash, like the glare from a gigantic glass, and where the Mutant's -chest had been there was only space, space lit by the spectral-blueness -of the Dekka Star. The body fell a charred and twisted thing from which -the watchers averted their eyes. The peculiar odor of disintegrated -flesh stung their nostrils.</p> - -<p>For the first time in living memory, a spy had contrived to enter their -midst. Julian didn't care to think what would happen to the units who -guarded and activated the Neuro-graphs that were posted the length of -the entrance corridor. Still, it was obvious that only a mind of great -power could have had the satanic ingenuity to plan an invasion of the -<i>Dekka's</i> Hall of Sessions.</p> - -<p>Julian Varon bent over the mutilated form suppressing an impulse to -retch. It was unmistakably a <i>true</i> Mutant from Ganymede, where the -dark flower of their civilization had reached obscure heights. The -features of the man were unmistakeable. As he straightened, Julian -raised his left arm exposing the tiny double star at his wrist, symbol -of his rank, and belatedly reported to the <i>Dekka</i>.</p> - -<p>"A Ganymedean Mutant, <i>Serenity</i>!" Julian spoke, facing toward the Dais -where he knew Astran stood behind the veiling curtain of light shed -by the diamond star. "This dubious honor is the second one tonight," -Julian said with a mirthless laugh. "I've fought one bare-handed, the -other with Power-rapiers, I should like the next encounter to be with -'Electro-cannon!' However, perhaps these two encounters are something -of a clue. Surely," he paused and swept the assembled Dekkans with his -eyes, "they must form part of a definite pattern."</p> - -<p>"Please continue, Control-Facet," Astran's voice held a note of -suppressed excitement.</p> - -<p>"Simply that it has occurred to me, that while we on Io, the dwellers -on Europa and even Callisto have been ravaged by this hellish disease, -Ganymede has failed even to <i>mention</i> the scourge in their reports. -Even taking for granted their genius for silence and intrigue—their -aloofness from their sister-worlds' affairs, such a catastrophe as -this Plague should have blasted them out of their shells, <i>if they have -been ravaged, too</i>! If not," Julian paused deliberately, and into these -words he put all the dynamic, irresistible power of his trained voice, -"<i>we should investigate, regardless of consequences</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Investigate!" Astran's voice held a grim sardonicism. "If what I -<i>intuit</i> is true, we, the Dekka are prepared to underwrite Jovian -history for the next hundred years!"</p> - -<p>Julian sighed with a sudden feeling of exultance, and he knew why. -Wryly, he was aware that what Astran termed "intuit" was an integer -of vastly complicated cerebro-geometric figures; graphs of brainpower -coordinates and emotional integers, whose tendrils root-like delved -into the innermost recesses of the human mind. And Astran was perhaps -the greatest Cerebro-Geometrician of them all. Quite obviously the -scientists of the Dekka had been far from idle. And, the expose of the -Mutant spy had been like a piece in a jig-saw puzzle falling into place -and revealing the beginnings of a pattern of some sort, but as yet not -clear.</p> - -<p>"Quorum!" Astran's voice rose imperatively. "Astro-operatives and -Facets clear the Hall. All others remain."</p> - -<p>The real session was about to begin. Julian Varon knew it all by heart. -The endless series of individual reports on every nook and corner -of their worlds, so that each member of the Dekka present would be -acquainted with the sum total of their individual experiences. Still -they remained masked.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A great multitude of lesser members surged toward the exit, while those -chosen to remain grouped forward under the flaming diamond star, whose -light veiled the ten members of the <i>Dekka</i>. For the ten leaders of -their order of whom Astran was the foremost, might be known by their -names, recognized by their voices, but they were never seen. There was -a saying that all others "could enter the light, but could never touch -the flame."</p> - -<p>All the waning night, while Io revelled in a fantastic carnival of -pleasure, they gave their reports in minute detail, and the ten minds -on the dais that formed the Dekka, made calculations with infinite -patience and fed them to the Neuro-graphs by their desks complicated -cerebro-geometric figurates were set up, and woven into the matrix -of their problem. The possible influence of certain key figures in -the Societies of other Moons whose intelligence, emotional stability -and intellectual attributes were known, was reduced to high-level -variables, and again fed to the marvelous machines together with the -relevant data culled from the members present. Astran was like a raging -juggernaut, asking questions, prodding laggard memories, directing the -other nine members of the Dekka. He was tireless, and pitiless. How at -his great age he could accomplish it, was a mystery. But it had been -that boundless energy and stupendous will that had been responsible for -the greatness of Io—not to speak of the <i>Dekka</i>.</p> - -<p><i>He must be over two hundred!</i> Julian thought with awe, recalling dimly -the "Memoirs" of an earlier historian whom Astran had commissioned to -compile a history of Io, and in so doing had managed to bedevil that -poor man's life to such an extent, that the historian had counted the -cessation of Astran's visits as among the compensations for dying!... -That had been fifty years ago, when already for a century Astran had -led the Dekka.</p> - -<p>At last, the Neuro-Graph machines, marvelous as they were could do no -more. Out of that welter of figures, endless reports and calculations, -one master mathematical conclusion remained. <i>The answer lay in -Ganymede!</i></p> - -<p>It suddenly occurred to Julian just how ghastly was the irony of -their position. For their ancestors in gaining all the "conditions of -freedom," had gained far more than they'd bargained for, including this -epidemic of Mutations that in rendering them sterile sealed the doom -of their Moons. Had <i>Terra</i> known it, this was the perfect answer—a -few decades and all of them would remain only as a Mars-dry chapter in -history.</p> - -<p>They had sown the whirlwind ... and were reaping extinction!</p> - -<p>And Julian found a kindred feeling in the vast capacity for sheer -destruction that Astran had hinted at tonight.</p> - -<p>If the answer lay in Ganymede with its dual civilization of Terran -mutants and their descendants, and the original Ganymedean race, -he meant to visit that stupefying world of cabals and intrigues and -unrivaled luxury.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Julian stood alone at last beside the spacer where lay Narda's -unconscious form. He glanced up into the ultra-marine skies blazing -with myriad fiery roses, and gazed at the red ruby that was Ganymede -reflecting the great Red Spot of the parent world.</p> - -<p>Finally Julian entered the spacer and tenderly raised Narda's head -to pour Sulfalixir down her throat. First he had to take her where -she would be cared for, and then ... and then.... With a sigh he took -the controls and set the drive. In seconds he was soaring, above the -deserted plains.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">III</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>Terra glances—Men bend low—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>As Death dances, on tip-toe!</i>"</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Io—<i>27th Century</i>.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Like a shallow bowl hooded in starlight, the secret Ganymedean landing -fields came rushing upward as Julian coasted the muted spacer, -descending in a great rush of wind.</p> - -<p>It seemed deserted and bleak, coldly uninviting. There was a brief jar -as Julian made contact and brought the small but almost invulnerable -semi-cruiser to a partial stop. His fingers were still over the -banked keys when it came with mind-shattering suddenness—a burst of -intolerable light! The spacer trembled, shuddered like a living thing. -Instantly the hidden depression was alive with shadow-shapes as the -first shot struck home. Again the livid-orange flare blotted out the -starlight with a macabre radiance, and Julian reeled against the panel. -He had time for but one thought: "Hidden! Secret, eh!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He pressed the stud and drove the "Drive" forward one quarter. The -spacer reared like a mammoth stallion and plunged vertiginously into -the mass of men and projectors, scattering rocks and limbs in a welter -of crushed metal and torn flesh. The pandemonium of screams and -explosions was drowned in the roar of the hurtling ship. The warm blood -spurted out of Julian's ears and its acrid scent was in his nostrils. -The momentum had carried the spacer across the entire field before -Julian could bring it to a stop. Reeling with the effects of concussion -he drove himself out of the wounded vessel and into the darkness of -the tumbled terrain. The city was very near, he knew, even if no -garish brilliance heralded it. He had to get to it.... <i>He had to!</i> -The "plan" was complete, and even if only one small phase of the plan -were defeated, the whole pattern would have to be reconstructed and the -element of surprise would be lost.</p> - -<p>And then he realized grayly that an <i>awareness</i> of the Plan existed. -Else how explain such a reception? Violence was out in the open now. -And, the <i>Dekka</i> had not been the one to force the issue. Still, the -pressure of the thought in his mind—the overwhelming responsibility -of his task—was so great, that it drove him with cyclonic power. It -lent wings to his strength as he covered the distance in great leaps, -and was profoundly grateful for his Jovian training. The tumult behind -him receded into the distance, became indistinct. But Julian knew that -transmitters would be crackling with warning. His instinctive ruse with -the spacer had worked like a miracle, but he knew he could not hope to -have disposed of all his attackers. They would be on his trail like -bloodhounds in short order!</p> - -<p>The darkness now was but faintly suffused with the shimmer of -starlight, and great sections of the sky were blotted out. He came up -against a solid barrier and realized he was in the city. Ahead loomed a -vast shadow whose upthrust towers caught glimmers of faint luminescence.</p> - -<p>"The Temple!" he breathed, and darted like a hunted animal into the -silent sanctuary. He didn't deceive himself that he would be inviolate, -although that was the law; but it was a respite. Time to get his -bearings in the damnable city of darkness and tortuous ways.</p> - -<p>Once within the lofty nave of the temple, Julian took swift stock of -his surroundings. It was illuminated with surpassing skill, soothing, -caressing almost. But it suddenly struck him that the perfection of -the workmanship had a double purpose—it served primarily to mask the -impregnability of the place. It was a veritable fortress instantly -convertible if the need arose. It had been built to withstand a siege!</p> - -<p>Ahead of him was a lofty, jewel-encrusted altar. But no idol was -enthroned there. No inscription even. Only the raging inferno of a -miniature atomic-vortex held under control by some unknown means and -enclosed in a transparent substance which he rightly judged to be an -illusion, and was a field of force, in reality. There seemed to be no -exit anywhere, except the entrance through which he had come. Julian -had suddenly come to the end.</p> - -<p>He searched like a trapped creature, his whole being convulsed by the -urgency of his will, while the tumult of the chase drew nearer and -nearer with desperate urgency he explored the altar. "<i>Surely</i>," he -reasoned, "<i>there must be some way the priests of the temple reach the -nave!</i>" With frantic fingers he explored the gemmed surfaces, driving -his mind to intuit the logical means of ingress not to speak <i>egress</i>. -The chromatic shimmer of the gems blurred and merged together, formed -curiously fantastic patterns, as his senses reeled through the -after-effects of concussion. Imperceptibly almost, his probing fingers -felt a slight projection on a flat surface. With a swift, jabbing -motion he pushed in, and a circular section the size of a small coin -slid to one side. There was a thin metallic ring beneath. He twisted -it, and the whole section large enough for a stooping man to enter -swung silently inward. He hesitated briefly gazing into the dark -aperture. He could already hear clearly the shouted commands of his -pursuers, as the troops deployed into the branching streets. He entered -and the aperture closed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When the golden <i>Felirene</i> sprawled on the fabulous rug twitched its -plumed tail and narrowed its lambent eyes to slits of emerald fire, -Fermin, the Arch-Mutant did not move. He did not raise his head.</p> - -<p>The silver-grey eyes remained fixed, the slightly narrow skull -immobile; outwardly, he seemed absorbed in the photo-plastic record. -But the long, fragile finger of his hand pressed one of the gems that -studded the milky whiteness of the Jadite chair on which he sat. -Imperceptibly the jewel depressed. In the open hearth before him, a -burning log of aromatic wood crackled and sent up a shower of sparks -like shooting stars against the blue glory of the aquamarine glass -columns that flanked it.</p> - -<p>"The slightest movement means death!" Fermin said softly, in a voice -that was calm and poised and unhurried. "Even a spoken word might set -<i>it</i> off." In the brooding silence, the subdued hissing of the flames -could be heard.</p> - -<p>"You see, intruder, you're standing in a radio beam that controls a -Neuro-flash. The slightest movement disturbs the beam, which in turn -releases the "flash." A most deplorable accident...." His voice trailed -into a melodious undertone faintly etched with laughter. Then he rose -and flung back the folds of his jewelled scarlet robe, bright as fresh -blood, with a gesture of fastidious elegance.</p> - -<p>"Come, <i>Sappho</i> ... let us welcome our guest!" he bade the now -crouching, six-foot-long beast whose formidable claws were bared. -"This is a memorable occurrence!" He moved with an effortless surety -remarkable in its economy of movement; there was something oddly -regal and imperturbable in his stride. Beside him, Sappho, the feral -creature, paced with a fluid motion almost like flight, its golden fur -gleaming with firelight reflections.</p> - -<p>Across an invisible, if lethal barrier they met.</p> - -<p>Fermin gazed into the inscrutable eyes, blue-grey and silvered, almost -like his own. He appraised the astonishing shoulders of the man, -the golden hair with the unmistakable rising tide of silver. Noted -the absence of weapons except for the usual power-rapier. "What a -magnificent addition to our cause," he meditated. Unhurriedly Fermin -retraced his steps to the chair, and depressed another flashing gem -that shut off the radio-beam, then came back to the silent man. "How," -he inquired in a voice like ice, "did you get in here?" Inwardly Fermin -was torn between the desire to let <i>Sappho</i> display her peculiar -talents, and that of adding yet another valuable recruit to the cause. -He smiled slowly as if reading the intruder's thoughts: "It is safe to -speak now," he pointed out. "I've shut off the power."</p> - -<p>"My entrance is but a detail," Julian answered. His eyes traveled -slowly, noting the shock of translucent hair, the silver eyes, then -paused briefly at the power-rapier hanging from Fermin's belt. For a -second he had an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh at the ghastly -irony of it. After waiting for hours in the secret passage, he had to -blunder headlong into the presence of the one being in all Ganymede he -would have avoided at all costs!</p> - -<p>"I sought sanctuary and there was the Temple-nave. It's inviolate, -isn't it?" (<i>The point was, should he brazen it out or fight.</i>)</p> - -<p>"Of course!"</p> - -<p>"But obviously, I couldn't remain in the Temple forever, so ... I had -to find an exit." (<i>Wonder if the paralysis ray works on a Felirene!</i>)</p> - -<p>"Continue, please," Fermin's voice was a smooth purr.</p> - -<p>"The atomic vortex drew my attention and I found beneath it what I -sought. Then, when I came in here and saw you absorbed in those -records ... why, I hesitated...."</p> - -<p>"<i>As simple as that.</i>" A world of irony lay in Fermin's pellucid tones. -The smile of ancient Medusa, would have been mild compared with the -change that came over the Arch-Mutant's face. "No doubt, it is also a -mere detail that the Atomic-vortex—which represents, incidentally, -the Absolute—is absolutely fatal! That secret exit beneath the altar -is known only to five other persons besides myself. And, that the -slightest miscalculation in manipulating the secondary controls of the -last door that leads to this chamber, releases an electronic current -sufficient in itself to incinerate a squadron! Remarkable!" Fermin's -eyes were flashing molten silver. "And casually strolled through!" The -hooded eyes were shadowed with death now. "However," the unhurried -voice continued, "<i>we expected you, Julian Varon</i>."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am Varon," Julian answered with a sort of sardonic calm he -reserved for moments when death loomed very near. "I am too near <i>the -flame</i> to have dispensed with your attention. The point is, Fermin, -I thought you a gentleman, while you seem to consider me a knave. -I'm afraid we are both mistaken!" His generous mouth curved in a -contemptuous smile, as the taunt struck home. Death was something the -members of the Dekka had to learn to accept in advance.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Fermin chuckled, if anything as vulgar as a chuckle might be said to -issue from those chiselled, aristocratic lips, but his face was ashen -as his hand grasped the neutralized hilt of his Power-rapier.</p> - -<p>"My rank is higher than a Prince, Dekkan—I don't have to be a -gentleman! My mistake lay in thinking that you might be interested in -an offer I was about to make. After all, <i>you're a sterile Mutant now</i>."</p> - -<p>The savage Felirene licked its golden muzzle and gave a muffled roar -as if tired of waiting, its prodigious musculature rippled under the -metallic sheen of its priceless fur. Fermin stroked it caressingly.</p> - -<p>"See, even Sappho has lost patience. I regret I must subject you to -the Psycho-graph—that is, unless you prefer to tell me the reason for -your visit of your own accord." The mellifluous accents were a study in -modulation—clear, precise—sardonic.</p> - -<p>Julian had a flashing remembrance of what a Psycho-graph could do -to him. It had happened once before during his twenty-nine years of -existence. He relived for an instant the burst of dazzling light, the -agonizing fury in his brain, while voices that mocked and danced and -probed penetrated deeper and deeper into his consciousness until they -became a searing Babel in his mind. Julian had vowed it would never -happen again. Suddenly he blanked his mind with swift ruthlessness.</p> - -<p>And with the same savage ruthlessness he struck. A tiny paralysis -beam flashed from the ring on his left little finger and stretched -out the Felirene without a sound. His right hand already had sought -the Power-rapier and the flashing blade described a scintillant wheel -before him. But Fermin's reflexes were quite as swift. His own blade -leaped into his long, aristocratic hand, as he sought cunningly to back -toward the Jadite chair.</p> - -<p>But Julian didn't give him that chance he needed, his onslaught drove -forward with appalling speed, slashing, parrying, probing like a -living thing, until the Arch-Mutant's face went gray, shadowed by -the first fear he had known in his extraordinary life. Craftily, the -scarlet-robed Arch-dynast feinted to the left, in the secret Ganymedean -lure, and to his vast astonishment saw the lure engaged, <i>and then</i>, -a searing flash that coruscated before his dazzled eyes left him only -the neutralized hilt of his rapier in his hand! Fermin had a confused -picture of molten drops spilling from the weightless hilt and of golden -motes dancing before his eyes, when the paralysis beam convulsed him -in a frozen shudder and he tumbled slowly to the rug—graceful even in -unconsciousness.</p> - -<p>Julian did not waste a single precious second. Both Fermin and his -<i>alter ego</i> would be out for at least two or three hours, he knew. -But his presence might be discovered there any moment. He search -the jewelled cabinets that lined one wall. Feverishly he scanned -the photo-plastic record on the stand, and even read the flowing -hieroglyphics of Ganymede, so much like the written Arabic of forgotten -antiquity, which he found in a special compartment over the hearth, and -found ... nothing! Nothing but a single word, frozen and faded in a now -neutralized telesolidograph screen that flanked the white splendor of -the Jadite chair. The word was "<i>Paradisiac</i>." And that was the name -of perhaps the most glamorous, and the most dangerous pleasure den in -their known universe.</p> - -<p>At last in desperation, he searched the fallen body unceremoniously. -The jewelled garments of the Arch-Mutant yielded no records, no secret -notes, only a tiny vial fashioned of a single blood-red <i>Panagran</i>, -which contained a colorless liquid. This, Julian thrust into a pocket. -Then like a wraith he melted into the aquamarine penumbra of the -titanic columns and disappeared as soundlessly as he had come.</p> - -<p>Once out in the diluted scarlet of Ganymede's morning, he saw that the -temple was ringed with guards. Most of them lounged in the careless -sense of security that comes with routine. Julian, the pupils of -his eyes dilating, slid along the side of one wall, there was only -one guard there—beyond was a wide avenue somewhere along which the -Paradisiac was located. He moved as quietly as a <i>Felirene</i>, as -implacable as death. The guard never even felt the blow that felled -him. Then Julian was sprinting madly as shouts rose behind him in the -roseate gloom.</p> - -<p>"Damn this pink fog!" he exclaimed through clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>Behind him the muffled stamp of scurrying feet and the metallic -scraping of power-rapiers became distinct; oaths and imprecations in -various dialects grew loud.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He swerved aside into a half-concealed doorway to hide his progress, -for it wouldn't do to have his pursuers see him. A badly aimed -power-beam from an old-fashioned heat-ray gun splashed off a -wall not a block distant, in incandescent fury. "The fools!" he -thought contemptuously. But his eyes scanned the buildings for -a sign of the "Paradisiac." He was beyond fear—beyond emotion -even. But what bothered him in a sort of dazed wonderment was that -the word "Paradisiac" should have been frozen in the neutralized -telesolidograph. For his assignment as part of the "Plan" was to meet -another member of the Dekka, a Techno-Star, at the "rendezvous!" How -Fermin, the Arch-Mutant had managed to obtain that information was -incredible! It was an index to plans and forces he had not previously -conceived.</p> - -<p>But the problem now was to find the Paradisiac, he had merely a matter -of minutes in which to seek concealment. And in this world of tortuous -cabals not to speak of instant death, no blatant signs advertised -pleasure, shelter or concealment. The latter was an art that was -subtly applied to itself. One either did, or did not, know where to go. -Sanctuary was there for the asking—at a price. But the signs were only -for the initiate to recognize.</p> - -<p>Desperately Julian tuned in the secret wave-length of the <i>Dekka</i>, -and turning his wrist-transmitter to full force, sent out in code a -streamlined account of what had transpired since his landing, as a last -detail he told briefly of his encounter with Fermin, and of taking the -curious vial from the Arch-Mutant. It was then that out of the soft, -roseate haze, a brilliant, vari-colored pinwheel flashed briefly, then -vanished as if it had never been, not fifty paces from where he stood. -And Julian without hesitation was at the blank, beryloid wall in a few -strides.</p> - -<p>With his rapier-scabbard, he tapped a series of sounds, and the wall -seemed to part, just wide enough for him to squeeze through the -aperture. Behind him, the incredibly resistant plastic wall had closed.</p> - -<p>In silence he waited, trying to control his labored breathing. Knowing -that he was being inspected, and that the translucent barrier before -him would or would not open—as <i>they</i> willed. The thought flashed -through his mind that perhaps this <i>sub-rosa</i> stronghold of the Dekka, -kept ostensibly as a pleasure-den, might have become tainted—a trap -instead of a refuge. And in that brief instant of harrowing suspense, -Julian became conscious of a presence, something cold and weirdly -impersonal, that pervaded the cubicle with its aura. He shifted -uneasily, poised with a grim determination. The blood-stained fabric -moulded to his superb torso gleamed with the sheen of wet metal under -the soporific illumination. There was no sound save his audible -breathing.</p> - -<p>After what seemed eternity—in reality seconds—the wall before him -slid silently aside. A long corridor stretched before him. It led to -the public rooms. The sudden shock of overwhelming relief had the -quality of vertigo. The quadrangle walls seemed to lose solidity and -become curved. He shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the -wall on the left side of the quadrangle bore a message in brilliant -letters as if they'd emerged glowing from the plastic substance itself. -It was a message and a question:</p> - -<p>"PUBLIC ROOMS NOT NEUTRAL. DISGUISE DESIRED?"</p> - -<p>Julian stared. Behind the silver-grey brilliance of his eyes, a mind -trained to irrevocable decisions worked at the level of maximum -awareness. His judgment balanced factors and variables. True, his -instructions had been to seek sanctuary here, at this place, and -on this street that for all its seemingly deserted obscurity was -honeycombed with palaces fabulous for luxury and unlimited pleasures. -Even the exotic tastes of jaded minds whose more esoteric interests -could only be aroused by pain—the wild suffering of crucified -flesh—were catered to.</p> - -<p>Fugitives from half a dozen worlds lost their identity in the opulent -warrens where "life" so often could be bought and sold with oblique -indifference. But he had to visit the Public Rooms—his only contact -with what he had come to seek <i>was there</i>! Someone who had devoted a -lifetime to the Dekka, in Ganymede. Imperturbably he re-read the fading -words, and with a mental squaring of his shoulders, he replied:</p> - -<p>"Yes. Nothing <i>organic</i>, of course. But it must be more than merely -skillful!"</p> - -<p>Instantly the wall glowed again:</p> - -<p>"THE SIXTH PANEL TO YOUR LEFT AWAITS YOUR PLEASURE."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Julian strode down the hall and paused before the sixth panel, it -opened inwardly with the same silent precision that characterized -everything in the place. Thus far he had seen no one. The maximum -anonymity was, of course, essential. Still, there was something -eerie in the atmosphere of complete detachment. He entered and found -himself in a circular room with curving, almost translucent walls. -The floor was firm, yet resilient under foot. He felt like a fop -at a rejuvenation center, and laughed suddenly at the thought. His -whole countenance was lit by that rare smile. From somewhere a slim, -completely masked creature glided silently into the room.</p> - -<p>Julian judged its height at slightly less than five feet; however, -beyond the fact that its body was undeniably human, and exquisitely -proportioned, Julian was unable to go, for the being's skin-tight -garment left not an inch of surface exposed—except its hands. These -were long, and marvelously sensitive, with a nervous life of their own -as if they acted independently of the Ganymedean's guiding brain.</p> - -<p>They were measuring him now, taking in the magnificent breadth of -shoulder, the long, flat thighs and narrow waist, above which rose -the inverted pyramid that was Julian's torso. At last they carefully -removed his helmet and paused as if appraising the great shock of -golden hair. With a swift motion that took in Julian's entire body, -the designer indicated that Julian strip. Again the exquisite hands -repeated the gesture—impatiently this time—but Julian, his face set, -still hesitated.</p> - -<p>The designer was a native Ganymedean, beyond doubt—Julian knew that -much. But, was it a man or a woman? Julian was well aware that the -exquisite beings of fabulous Ganymede, who even when confronted with -the outrage that was <i>The Dynasty</i>, foisted upon them by the Terran -Mutants had disdained arming themselves to the teeth as the rest of -the Moons had done, had some very strange ideas about things. And the -"Control-Facet" had no intention of disrobing before a woman—even as -alien and anonymous a being as the Ganymedeans. His face was beginning -to flush with sheer annoyance.</p> - -<p>As if reading Julian's thoughts, the masked designer shook its head -and made an expressive gesture with its hands, as if Julian's nudity -would be a thing of such utter unimportance, that it would scarcely be -noticed, except as a foundation upon which to achieve a superlative -disguise. And Julian had no alternative. It was either disrobe or enter -the Public Rooms as he was. Mentally he consigned the stubborn race of -Ganymede to the most sulphuric region he could think of, and palming -his electro-beam, undressed. The coldly unemotional designer was unable -to suppress a gasp! Its ancient, long-forgotten Gods must have been -like this; theirs was a cult of beauty, and in Julian it was witnessing -a masterpiece. Almost, reverently, the fluttering hands began their -work.</p> - -<p>The Ganymedean's artistry was very great. "<i>Part of their accursed -stubbornness!</i>" Julian thought. For the Ganymedeans had an exasperating -tenacity of purpose which brooked no obstacles until they achieved -their ends—it bordered on genius, or madness, or both. Had they -devoted it to the art of War, Seville-Lorca's "<i>Jovian Annals</i>" would -have been a vastly different story.</p> - -<p>The space-tanned face with its slightly flaring nostrils, and large -silver-grey eyes, crowned by the shock of golden mane, began to change -subtly under the magical hands of the designer. Slowly the shoulder -long hair took on a dull, ruddy sheen, while the coppered complexion -paled and a temporary irritant brought a deep flush to his cheeks. -With deft movements, the winged brows were darkened and narrowed, and -the generous, full lips were pulled slightly inwards and taped with -invisi-plastic, until only a thin, cruel curve remained. The Ganymedean -stepped back and scrutinized the effect. Quickly it crossed to a part -of the circular chamber and then pressed a stud. A great section of -the wall sank downward, revealing tier after tier of dazzling costumes -already composed. There were gossamer silks from Venus, lustrous as -moonlight pools; the opulent gleam of stiff brocades from Mars, as -unyielding as the character of that supercilious race. Velvets like -crushed petals, embroidered in <i>Starlimans</i>, the priceless green -diamonds of Mercury; vivid fabrics from distant Neptune, which were -not woven at all, but secret plastics worth a small fortune each. And, -they were all green—in an infinite gradation of shades, nuances, hues. -The artist's hands reached and drew forth a single garment open at the -back. And then the real work began.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Julian's eyes were inscrutable. He had not been asked what effect was -to be achieved, or indeed how he wished to be changed. True, nothing of -an <i>organic</i> nature had been attempted. But he was not used to this.</p> - -<p>The Ganymedean designer, whatever it was, was a great artist. Great -enough to take liberties, or else possessed of the effrontery of -genius. But then, Julian meditated, Ganymedeans were like that. There -were times when one didn't know whether to slay them or leave them. -Then it occurred to Julian that perhaps the instructions of the <i>Dekka</i> -had been specific. But dismissed the thought with a wry smile. Even -the Dekka's instructions as to the actual disguise would have been -quietly ignored by this creature. It was a work of art, and in that -realm, Ganymedeans listened to no one. But his meditation was cut short -by the gestures of the artist, which clearly indicated that Julian tilt -his head. In his hands he held a tiny bottle, and something like an -eye-dropper.</p> - -<p>"I said <i>nothing organic</i>!" Julian reminded him coldly.</p> - -<p>"A tint, nothing more," the Ganymedean spoke for the first time in -soft, slurred accents. "It will only last a few days, then disappear. -And, without it, the work is incomplete." Julian submitted reluctantly.</p> - -<p>The artist was at last finished. One graceful hand motioned toward a -huge moon of a mirror suspended by anti-gravitic means, and Julian -turned curiously to see what the creature had transformed him into.</p> - -<p>His astounded gasp was audible in the silent alcove. For he saw a -tall, disdainful Martian whose violet eyes looked coldly out a face he -couldn't recognize as his own; a mane of ruddy, curling ringlets fell -to the neck-line, while thin, cruel lips curving slightly expressed -unutterable boredom. For the rest, his body was sheathed in palest -silver-green, of a texture like human epidermis—satiny, rippling with -his every movement, while a great belt of <i>Panagrans</i> circled his -narrow waist.</p> - -<p>The Ganymedean held up an expressive finger, then flew to a drawer -hidden beneath the folds of the costumes. He extracted something and -came swiftly back. Julian felt a sharp pain in his left ear-lobe, then -the icy sensation of a cauterizer stanching the capillary flow, and -something was fastened to his ear. When he gazed into the reflecting -moon, he saw a huge, solitary <i>Starliman</i> swirling green fire from -his left ear-lobe. The picture of a ruthless, interplanetary fop was -superbly complete. Only a Neuro-Graph machine could possibly have -revealed his identity now.</p> - -<p>Julian went over to where his former garments lay on the floor, and -fastened his Power-rapier to the jeweled belt, then extracted the -vial he had taken from Fermin, taking care that the designer didn't -see it, and secreted it on his person. When he straightened up again, -the Ganymedean was holding a cloak of rich <i>ocelandian</i> fur which -Julian threw about his shoulders. The artist gazed at him for a brief -instant, with something like a smile in its brilliant eyes—all that -could be seen of his masked face. Then as silently as he had come, he -literally walked into a section of the panelling which gave way before -him and disappeared in the endless labyrinth that was the Paradisiac. -The door of the circular room opened soundlessly. Julian's hand flew -to the electro-beam under his arm-pit, but no one came. It was a mute -invitation to depart.</p> - -<p>The long corridor led him to the balcony overhanging the Public Rooms. -Below him was a hall so vast, built on a scale so great, that it -imparted a feeling of limitless distances, yet he knew this was an -illusion. To his right, a crysto-plast conveyor spiralled down in a -swirl of imprisoned waters, foaming like a rushing stream, while at the -bottom, freed by the deliberately lessened gravity, the worst and best -from all the inhabited worlds sat at individual platforms or revolved -lazily in the upper levels. The enchantment of fantastic harmonies wove -a subtle spell of desire and nameless longings. But although he felt -the magic of the extravagantly honeyed chords, Julian reminded himself -that was not there to propitiate the eternal caprice of the flesh.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IV</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>"Within my heart, all ecstasy,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Within my eyes, all visions dwell.</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Life—Death, I turn to rhapsody—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>I am the deathless Philomel."</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">TERRA—20th Century.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>He swept the assemblage with a glance. Purposely he had stood for -seconds in full view. A perfect fop—as frivolous, as dangerous as -anything the Paradisiac harbored. The ultimate in elegance.</p> - -<p>Julian stepped on the conveyor and had the illusion of being borne -along on a cataract of foam to where an immaculately garbed Ganymedean -bowed and led the way to a secluded platform embowered in the -geometrical interlacings of frost crystals. The panel in the table's -center instantly suffused with softest light as he sat down, and a note -like the echo of a forgotten song rang subdued.</p> - -<p>"Venusin ... undiluted!" Julian ordered laconically.</p> - -<p>Mentally he enjoyed in anticipation the exhilarating power of the -treacherous drink. It was precisely what a successful adventurer would -have ordered there.</p> - -<p>He waited calmly, conscious that he was the cynosure of many eyes. He -knew a thousand dramas were being enacted in the sumptuous den, under -the masking surface of convention and social intercourse.</p> - -<p>The place was like a gigantic cup abrim with beauty—so much of it—in -the decors, in the music, in the <i>flesh</i>, left him cold. A glowing -core of contempt burned within him at the overwhelmingly seductive -weakness it induced. Julian knew he had to be as invulnerable as -berylo-plast—deaf to all the mellower dictums of the heart. He was -here for one single, solitary purpose that was the all-embracing, -the tremendous <i>now</i>. To meet a bearer of information so secret, so -profoundly vital, that its possessor had not dared even transmit it -in the highly complicated secret code of the <i>Dekka</i>. For that he -had braved what he now realized was certain death. It was his task -to receive it, and pass it through channels that would reach the ten -Dekkan patriarchs.</p> - -<p>Once more, as he had done when he'd paused at the top of the conveyor, -Julian raised his arm and almost imperceptibly made the secret, -immemorable gesture of the Dekka. He was impatient. There was no time. -Disguise or no disguise, he knew that any minute now, the Paradisiac -might erupt like a long-seething volcano. <i>Why wasn't the person he -was to meet here yet?</i> Mechanically his fingers groped for the vial he -had taken from Fermin, and paused startled as he felt the unmistakable -outline of something hard beside the shape of the miniature vial. He -drew it out slowly, palmed so that no observer could discern it from -even a short distance. It was a tiny plastic disc bearing the words: -SUB ROHAN SQUARE. As Julian raised the glass of Venusin to his lips, -he swallowed the disc, which he knew would dissolve. <i>He already had -met the informant!</i> The thought was almost shocking in its intensity. -It could only have been the Ganymedean designer! And yet, the message -in itself was disappointing. What could there be beneath Rohan Square, -the central plaza before the Temple where he'd met Fermin?</p> - -<p>Already amidst the perfect glamour, the seductive illusions of the -Paradisiac, forces were gathering that no Ganymedean art could dispel, -and which were far from being illusory.</p> - -<p>Neighboring platforms had drawn increasingly near; implacable eyes, -devoid of languor or of drugs, gazed with cold intensity at the -frost-trellised bower and its solitary occupant. The lighting effects -of the Paradisiac had changed, dimmed to an idyllic, translucent -twilight, while the music sank to undulations of the B flat tonality -that were magical—plucking at the emotions with unerring skill.</p> - -<p>A draft of fragrance—the heady <i>florestan</i> of Ganymede—made Julian -turn his head. Up the brief stairs of his platform a woman was -ascending calmly. Julian rose, a tiny frown between his eyes. He had -not sent for a companion; then he remembered his brief flash of passion -on the conveyor and wondered with startled dismay if these Ganymedeans -went so far as to read the most intimate thoughts of their guests! But -no, it could not be.</p> - -<p>He shot a clear violet glance of keen appraisal at the girl. She was -a <i>true</i> Mutant. Her utter refinement of features, the classical -loveliness stamped with intolerable pride were beyond doubt Ganymedean, -as was the hair, almost crystalline, that fell in shining waves to her -shoulders. The eyes, an enchanting shade of silvered blue, were smiling -with a secret amusement.</p> - -<p>"Shall one intrude?" The ghost of a smile parted her lips as she sat -down, her priceless gown sweeping the platform with the crystal sheen -of water. She threw back a shawl as sheer and fantastic as the Veil of -Tanit must have been, with a gesture that only a very beautiful woman -can achieve.</p> - -<p>"Enchanted," Julian answered conventionally, but entirely without -warmth. He offered her a drink. Maliciously he suggested <i>Venusin</i>, -certain it would be refused.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The girl let her glance rove over the wondrous spectacle on the stage -that had emerged from the floor in the center of the hall, and, her -smile was an adventure as she replied:</p> - -<p>"Venusin ... weaver of chimeras ... like all this," she waved an -alabaster hand, "illusion ... dreams. But even our greatest dreams -<i>betrays</i> us sometimes. Yes, let it be Venusin!"</p> - -<p>Julian wondered, straining all his faculties, whether the veiled -warning were a prophecy of things to come, or the ironical skating -on thin ice of the enemy itself! And was aware that part of his mind -kept harping on the loveliness of this cryptic stranger. <i>What was her -purpose? Had she penetrated his disguise? Was she there to make sure -that under the miracle of art there was some one far more dangerous -than a dissipated Martian fop?</i> His answer came from her slender, -fragile hands. <i>They were twining and untwining like lilies bending -before the wind!</i></p> - -<p>"Let's dance," Julian said suddenly with an emotion he would not -analyze. He rose and caught her roughly up to him. He saw her eyes go -expressionless with surprise, she was stunned a little. And before she -could recover, the irresistible power of Julian's arms had borne her -to the greater anonymity of the dance floor in seconds. One moment -the lyric quality of the atmosphere was part of them, and then the -illusion was shattered as the frost-trellised bower vanished almost -simultaneously with their leaving it. Lurid pencils of unleashed power -impinged on the crysto-plast table charring it, while the fragile walls -disappeared under the barrage. Julian saw a burly Mutant searching for -him, atom-blast in hand, while beside him another Dynast, his face -stamped with the excesses of Vanadol slipped into the pandemonium the -dance-floor had become.</p> - -<p>With cold ruthlessness Julian aimed his electro-beam and saw the upper -part of the Mutant's torso disappear. He saw the other one near the -conveyor and the "electro" flashed again. The beam went through the -creature and struck the great conveyor releasing the imprisoned waters. -An icy geyser of liquid shot upward, and pandemonium broke loose. -All the lights went out and madness stalked the swirling humanity -that desperately sought to escape. He was in a maelstrom of fighting, -shrieking beings and a chaos of noise as tables and chairs crashed.</p> - -<p>"Let me lead ... my eyes are conditioned to darkness!" Julian felt a -tiny hand grasp his arm.</p> - -<p>"So are mine ... but who...." He could see dimly a tiny, slender -figure, scarcely five feet in height, completely masked. Then he -remembered the slurred accents of the artist who had achieved his -disguise. The Ganymedean already was scurrying toward the same -direction in which Julian wanted to go, to the right of where the -conveyor had been. Icy water already swirled around his ankles, and the -babel of sounds had risen to a crescendo of unleashed fear, when Julian -reached the plastic wall. The Ganymedean was ahead of him, and Julian -saw him press a spot in the smooth barrier. A draft of icy air struck -his face as an aperture appeared. He dived in.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They must have traveled miles before Julian's Ganymedean guide began -to falter, then stopped. The being had silently ignored every question -thus far, and twice had asked for silence. Now he turned on a tiny -pencil beam and surveyed their surroundings. It was a cavern, musty and -icy in temperature; great festoons of dust held together by age-old -cobwebs hung from the curved ceiling.</p> - -<p>The Ganymedean went directly to a section of the rocky wall on the -left, and searched the crumbling surface minutely with the pencil-beam -until he found what he sought; he made an odd twisting motion with -fingers pressed to the wall, and a circular section slid inward; beyond -was another tunnel ending in a seemingly blank wall.</p> - -<p>"You will find a metal disk in the exact center of the wall," the -Ganymedean explained hurriedly. "Blast it with your electro-beam. -It is the mechanism of a door, the combination to which we do not -possess. Be prepared to <i>destroy instantly everything that meets your -eyes</i>—everything!" He motioned for Julian to enter the tunnel. "You -will have only seconds to achieve your purpose. And remember, your -life's already forfeit, so do not hesitate now!"</p> - -<p>"But what <i>is</i> behind that door?" Julian asked, exasperated. "I have a -right to know!" He laid a detaining hand on the Ganymedean's shoulder. -"<i>I must know!</i>"</p> - -<p>By the spectral radiance of the pencil-beam, the artist eyed Julian -with a strange expression in his eyes. "As you will, Dekkan," the -being shrugged his shoulders. "You will find a laboratory ... if you -live to reach it. It is doubly guarded, although even the Dynasty -does not suspect the existence of that door, for it is part of the -remains of our own subterranean system. Beyond it ..." the Ganymedean -paused, "in that laboratory is stored the blood-plasma of Mutants who -have voluntarily submitted to <i>innoculation with a certain disease</i>. -The resulting modified virus is the <i>Plague</i>. It's like a vaccine -magnified a thousand times—its victims do not die, they merely become -<i>sterile</i>!" The Ganymedean turned toward where the corridor curving to -the right was lost to view. "I go that way," he said simply. "My place -is here."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"But ... your message on the disc ... you mentioned Rohan Square!" -Julian exclaimed. "If I survive this, how can I...."</p> - -<p>"<i>You are standing beneath Rohan Square, and the Temple, Dekkan!</i>"</p> - -<p>And that was all. Suddenly he was gone like a wraith that melted into -the darkness and the silence, his footsteps muted by the velvet carpet -of dust. Julian hesitated no longer.</p> - -<p>He found the metal disc in the wall, and with the "electro" at low -power destroyed the ancient mechanism of the door. As if released -from the bond that for so long had held it, the great section rolled -back with a crash, carrying away with it a jagged section of plastic -covering from its other side. Julian had a vivid glimpse of startled, -silver-haired technicians who stared unbelieving at the strange -apparition. In that dazed moment of inaction, Julian acted. <i>He was -in!</i> The lethal power of the electro-beam in his hand swept like a -scythe through the group of Mutants. It was ghastly. The blasted sides -of culture vats poured their viscous contents on the floor. There was -a livid, billowing flare of incandescence as acids were struck. It -was a welter of destruction and supernal fire that roared into the -laboratory before any of the Mutants had a chance to act. The acrid -smoke, the odor of disintegrated flesh was like a heavy pall. Through -it, galvanized figures could be seen descending a winding staircase -that led upward from the subterranean lab. The Guards!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">V</p> - -<p>Julian poured a withering barrage at the plastic staircase, and saw it -disintegrate into golden, dancing motes that merged with the advancing -curtain of fire. He could hear frantic commands shouted from above as -power beams crossed and criss-crossed the lab. The raging maelstrom -was unbearable now, and Julian retreated toward the tunnel. Almost at -the doorway a ponderous section of plastic from the caving ceiling -struck him on the left shoulder and fractured his collar bone. He held -his left arm at the elbow to support the broken clavicle and sprinted -down the tunnel to the corridor. Muffled explosions behind him fed -the cataract of fire. He pushed shut the circular section of wall -and followed as fast as he was able in the direction he had seen the -Ganymedean disappear.</p> - -<p>The corridor seemed endless. Even his tremendous strength was taxed. -Charred, the magnificent costume in tatters, his left side a gory -welter of blood, he kept on doggedly, on and on, the unnerving fear -in his heart—not for his life—but that he might not be able to -transmit to the <i>Dekka</i> the ghastly solution of their problem. He kept -forcing his legs, and was amazed when a draft of pure, frigid air smote -his feverish face. He found himself by the shores of Ganymede's one -and only shallow sea. Above him the stars were like freshly washed -diamonds; the icy harshness of the wind was like a tonic.</p> - -<p>He saw a tiny light describe a parabola overhead, and to his mind, -inconsequentially came the lines from a famous poem:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>And an errant star falls rapt and free,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>In the blue cup of the sea....</i>"</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>And then Julian realized it was no star. He followed with a vast -unbelieving wonder, the tiny light winking on and off. <i>He knew that -code!</i> Beyond he saw the tremendous looming shadows he had thought -to be clouds. For an instant, Time stood still. Julian reeled with a -surging wave of relief that was like pain in its intensity. Frantically -he worked the wrist transmitter on his useless left arm, while waves -of nausea rolled over him, receded and rolled again. He would never -know how long he stood there, sending that long-repeated, incoherent -message, until his mind spinning down the labyrinth of unconsciousness -brought peace....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was a universe later. The blessed peace of <i>Vanadol</i> had vanished -pain. Sulfalixir was cutting through the darkness in his brain like a -bright sun. Julian opened his eyes and stared ... stared into a face -that reminded him of tele-photos that preserved archaic illustrations -of ancient Saints. It was hallowed in the bright patina of silver hair, -but it was no Mutant, a virile aura of power shone in those intensely -blue eyes.</p> - -<p>The "Saint" smiled; the fact was illumined as if with an inner light. -"Peace, Varon! There's no need to speak for we have the information. -You gave it to us—piece-meal—I must say." He smiled with kindly -humor. "But you gave it. We have synchronized and correlated what you -told us in the transmitter before you went to the Paradisiac, and your -later message from the shore."</p> - -<p>"<i>That voice ... that voice!</i>" The thought blotted out all else in -Julian's mind. It could not be, it was incredible, and yet, no one -else in his experience had just that tonal quality ... those ironic -overtones....</p> - -<p>"You probably wondered," the "Saint" was speaking again, "when you saw -our signal, how the Dekkan fleet could be above Ganymede unchallenged. -Look!" He activated a telesolidograph standing by the side of Julian's -bed.</p> - -<p>"Every inhabited Moon has its fleet here tonight, my son. When we -flashed them the news you gave us of the laboratory where the <i>Plague</i> -germs were kept, and of the incredible plan of the Dynasts—the -Mutants, they came on at full power. Enough to blast Ganymede out of -its orbit! The plan was the most fiendish, the most ingenious weapon of -war ever conceived! You must have guessed it of course ... for fifty -years they infected our people in slowly increasing numbers, until at -last they let loose the Plague."</p> - -<p>"Narda ...." Julian began as memory agonizingly came back.</p> - -<p>"That is the name you kept repeating with every other word in your -delirium," the stranger smiled. "A Techno-Star, as we found out. She of -course, will be one of the very first to be given the antidote, Varon."</p> - -<p>"Antidote...." Julian's voice was opaque with wonder, it was as if his -heart had lurched in his chest.</p> - -<p>"You brought it," the silver-haired stranger replied. "In the -<i>Panagran</i> vial you took from the Arch-Mutant. Our scientists -are already reproducing it. It acts both as an immunizer and an -antidote. The Mutants had to develop it as a safeguard for the native -Ganymedeans. It was the only way they could be assured of even their -reluctant loyalty. And the Mutants didn't dare war against the -Ganymedeans—they still possess ancient weapons that the Dynasty -could not cope with. I wish we could obtain some of them," he sighed -wistfully. "What a strangely stubborn race...."</p> - -<p>But Julian was scarcely listening, an upsurging volcano of hope had -set his whole being afire with the immortal, singing flame. Narda ... -himself!... He closed his eyes against the tremendous psychic strain.</p> - -<p>"Once more open war has been averted by a hair's breadth—I'm a little -bit sorry, in a way, <i>Serenity</i>."</p> - -<p>Julian opened his eyes startled. "Serenity? You mean '<i>Control-Facet</i>.' -You <i>are</i> Astran, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"Of course, my son! <i>Don't try to tell me what I mean!</i>" He smiled -with feral delight, then: "We're going to bomb the temple to its -foundations—a mere token, of course. I shall have you carried to the -observation tower.... It will be a welcome sight. Will you do us the -honor of directing the routine, <i>Serenity</i>?"</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silver Plague, by Albert dePina - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER PLAGUE *** - -***** This file should be named 63524-h.htm or 63524-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/2/63524/ - -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: The Silver Plague - -Author: Albert dePina - -Release Date: October 21, 2020 [EBook #63524] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER PLAGUE *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - The Silver Plague - - By ALBERT DE PINA - - Like a tide, the horror of the silver - death was sweeping to inundate the - inhabited worlds--with only Varon to - halt its flood--and he was already - marked by the plague he fought. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1945. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Fermin, the _Arch-Mutant_, had risen before dawn and in the -garnet-colored light that passed for morning on Ganymede, repaired to -the magnificent austerity of his cloister where he received an endless -series of reports. - -He had been reading _Seville-Lorca_ the previous evening, delighting -in the incredible pages which had been the great historians' dying -contribution to their worlds, and to which he had every intention of -adding an ironic anti-climax of his own. He sat in an austere Jadite -chair basking in the archaic warmth of an open hearth, and watched -whimsically for a moment how the darting flames reflected a bright -patina on the fur of the somnolent Felirene at his feet. There was -a chapter on the Jovian Societies he wanted to re-read. Not for -the brilliant, facile style in which _Seville-Lorca_ presented the -distilled chronicles of the Jovian Moons, but for that deeper purport -which is the notation of the heart. - -Slowly, Fermin became absorbed in the photo-plastic record on the stand -before him, unrolling in synchronized timing with his own reading speed. - -"... It seems natural, I suppose, human nature being as it is--that the -Mother Planet should maintain an attitude of supercilious aloofness. -But then, it is axiomatic we can never quite love those we have -wronged. And the history of the colonization of the major Jovian Moons -is anything but exalting. - -"When at the close of the 'Great Unrest,' as the twenty-third century -is popularly known, it was definitely established that the ratio of -Mutants to the grand total of normal populations was becoming an -increasingly dangerous potential, they were given their choice of a -charter to the newly explored Jovian Moons--a magnanimous gesture -which ignored with olympic indifference the fact that at least -one--Ganymede--had already a civilization of its own. - -"The fact that 'Mutants' were the direct result of malignant rays and -fiendish gases to which their ancestors had been exposed during the -endless wars that ravaged Terra until the twenty-second century, thus -damaging and modifying their chromosomes until Mutants began to appear -in increasing numbers, was beside the point. - - * * * * * - -"Terra was not interested in 'origins' it was only interested in -'conclusions'--and that the sooner the better! For these silver-haired -Mutants the color of old ivory, with the piercing silver-grey eyes, -were a constant reminder of a recent barbarism, of fratricidal wars so -damning that the new apostles of the 'Great Peace' would rather avert -their minds. Besides, and this was the deciding factor, the Mutants' -infinite capacity for intrigue bid fair to upset Terra's idyllic -applecart! - -"For in a world devoid of want, where strife had ceased under -scientific control, where obedience was taken for granted, and -robot-labor performed an endless variety of tasks, the blessed Mutants -found ways and means of fomenting discontent with admirable logic. Had -it been confined to their own ranks, it would have been no problem at -all, for as yet their number were negligible--scarcely a million. But -the perversity of human nature is sometimes appalling to behold; thus, -under the persuasive eloquence of the Mutants, great numbers of the -population of the World State began audibly to long for freedom! - -"What manner of freedom they longed for, was a little difficult for -the World-Council to establish. For surely, in the face of universal -plenty, freedom from want had been accomplished. Since the Government -was a benevolent bureaucracy staffed by scientists, oppression was -unknown. And, in the absence of need for labor, thanks to robots, -anyone could and did pursue such bents and careers as best suited them, -within certain limits. Even pleasure palaces; rejuvenation centers--and -pleasures had been socialized. The Government furnished Cinemils, mild -stimulants; even the more esoteric delights to all who performed a -minimum of work per day. - -"Of course, we now know (thanks to three hundred years of perspective), -what the World-State failed to perceive: That human beings need not so -much 'Freedom' per se, as the 'conditions of freedom.' For in a Social -Order where everything is provided without effort, effort itself is -hopelessly circumscribed. Where the 'Will to Achievement' is subtly -neutralized by an established way of life, that precludes 'friction,' -such a 'Will' becomes atrophied and progress stagnant. Just as -'resignation' is an inadequate word to describe the psychic exhaustion -of a wounded soldier who contemplates with indifference the immediacy -of death, so is 'exaltation' insufficient to describe the spiritual -change that came over large segments of the World-State under the fine -ivory hands of the Mutants. - -"Fortunately, the Terran Government had the wit to sense an impending -explosion that would have scattered their precious 'Peace' to Kingdom -Come. Thus began the hurried exodus of both Mutants and malcontents -to the Jovian system of Moons. The Mutants went first by unanimous -decision of the Council. They demanded to be taken to Ganymede, where -with a sigh of infinite relief (on the part of the World-State), -they were deposited bag and baggage. Then the malcontents were taken -to Callisto, to Io, to Europa, and some even to one or two of those -smaller Moons hardly bigger than asteroids. Even in exile, however, the -parental hand of Terra followed its strange and wayward children. - -"For we can suppose without fear of error, that the stately World-State -Government felt much as an old and weary hen that has hatched a -particularly bewildering brood of ducks. Deep in its heart, Terra felt -a guilty sense of blame, and had anyone been able to reach that cold -and battered throne, he would have discovered the angry pity and vast -misgivings with which it undertook the colonization of the Moons. - -"But as usual, they failed to take into consideration the -'Unpredictable,' that cosmic accident that recurs always in the lives -of men--thus the World-State never even dreamed of what were later on -to be called 'The Societies.'" - -Fermin the Arch-Mutant paused meditatively in his reading, and wondered -with faint amusement if _Seville-Lorca_ peering from the summit of some -remote Nirvana could see the stupendous drama that was being enacted in -the Moons, and write on the spectral pages of a book, a new addition -to his "_Annals_." But his sardonic reverie was suddenly arrested in -mid-flight, for at his feet the great, golden _Felirene_ had stirred -with the preternatural awareness of the feline, its immense green eyes -feral as it sensed.... - - - I - - "_O Moon of my delight_ - That knows no waning..." - - Terra--19th Century. - -In the semi-darkness, the vast crysto-plast observatory was deserted. -For the fifteen Tiers devoted to the feast, overflowed with celebrants -who observed the three hundredth anniversary of their landing. - -All Io seemed devoted to the chief preoccupation in their lives, and, -had managed to make of an historic fact, the excuse for a planet-wide -bacchanale. Julian Varon removed his black silk mask and stepped to the -wide balcony overhanging the plains. The frosty air was like a benison -on his narrow, high-cheek-boned face, and the silence was a greater -blessing still. Vaguely, he remembered the lines of an ancient poem of -the twentieth century, which, by one of those ironies of Fate, had been -preserved when far greater masterpieces had faded into oblivion: - - "_The brandy's very good-- - Blue space before me and no sign of man._" - -Meditatively, he raised the fragile Bacca-glass to his lips and sipped -the fiery liquor that Ionians distilled from the fragrant stems and -leaves of the _Clavile_ plant. For days, his mind had whirled in -hopeless circles, and he wondered with a curious sense of detachment, -whether he wouldn't be better off to leave the problem to the -scientists. Only, it was his duty as much as any scientist, to search -for clues. - -Julian raised his eyes and gazed at the great tiers of stars that -glittered above the towering, purple crags of the _Mallar_ range. -Throughout the hours of the Ionian night, the skies had been peopled by -the singing of these constellations. But there had been none to hear -it, for despite the ravages of the _Silver Plague_, the inhabited Moons -of Jupiter had gone mad with revelry, as if they would distill the last -drop of pleasure from each passing hour that brought them closer and -closer to extinction. - -"I wonder," Julian spoke aloud, "why decadence always hastens the tempo -of pleasure!" He smiled acidly as his own voice sounded strange in his -ears. Below him, the blazing tiers within the transparent enveloped, -that was Atalanta, capital of Io, the great Galilean satellite, -sparkled polychromatically in the night. In the utter silence, a stream -of music faint and far away, like a tiny goblin orchestra reached him, -as the icy wind plucked with elfin fingers at his cape. - -And something else reached him, too, that sent the blood racing through -his veins as his hypersensitive awareness of danger, translated the -sound of stifled breathing behind him into a signal for action. - -He whirled with a speed that was an index of Jovian training, for in -the vastly lighter gravities of the Moons, his muscular coordination -was breath-taking. - -Before him stood a Mutant in the act of crouching for a leap. He was -huge, squarely built, his silver mane standing straight out as he -sprang with a murderous rush. Julian stepped aside with calculated -ease and his left hand moved like a piston into the Mutant's face. -There was no time to seek the hidden "electro" under his arm-pit, and -power-rapiers had to be checked before entering pleasure palaces. The -Mutant bellowed with fury, and rammed a right deep into Julian's ribs, -then brought up his left and Julian tasted the claret in his mouth. The -silver-haired, silver-eyed being was obviously fighting to kill. And -suddenly Julian's vast amazement changed to a cold fury that turned his -blue-grey eyes to a smouldering black. - -He slid two sharp jabs into his enemy, then crossed his right and felt -bone give under his fist. He moved in, blasting with both fists like -rocket exhausts, and heard the Mutant's breath exploding from his body. -The Mutant with supreme effort tossed a fist grenade at him, but Julian -had caught the rhythm of the battle and swayed away with it; he made -the assailant miss again, then with all his dynamic power sent his -right hand crashing home. - -He saw the Mutant, face askew, slide drunkenly to the blood-patterned -floor. Then cool hands were on his wrists, on his brow, and sanity -began to return again. - -"Darling!" Narda said in a husky voice that was distilled music, and -drew down his golden head against a priceless gown that was all blue -shadows and pin-points of lights, to stanch the blood from his cut -lips. Her violet eyes were bright with unshed tears, but in the odd, -slurred melody of her haunting voice there was no tremor as she asked, -"What on Io's happened? Were you recognized by any chance? _And a -Mutant...!_" - -"Hardly think so ... still.... Oh, forget it, this is not a night for -problems. Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes are in Heaven," he -grinned irresistibly with a charm that made him seem younger. - -"No! None of your ... what was it your barbaric ancestors called -it?... _blarney!_" It was then she noticed the tell-tale silver flood -at the roots of his yellow mane, and her heart stood still. _The -Silver Plague!_ Carefully she lighted a cigarette and blew a perfect -smoke-ring into the icy air, she brushed an imaginary tobacco speck -from lips that were like red roses. And when she spoke Narda was -perfectly calm. - -"I came to find you because they're going to play the _Ecstasiana_ -with a native orchestra from Ganymede--the muted viols and flute-like -instruments, and those weird violins of that strange race.... We danced -it the first time we met. Remember, my dear?" Her eyes were radiant as -if all her tears were concentrated in her heart, leaving only their -sparkle behind. - - * * * * * - -He nodded silently. He was too full of the racking knowledge that all -his dreams had been destroyed by this alien malady that turned the hair -to gleaming silver, and rendered them sterile. That, and his terrible -love for this exquisite, gallant being who had consecrated her youth -and brains and loveliness to the only ideal in the chaos of their -lives--The _Dekka_. And as they turned to go, the tiny tele-rad on -Julian's wrist began to flash a pin-point of light in a complicated -code. - -They both watched instantly alert, translating the urgent message with -the ease of years of experience. The message was peremptory--final. -They were to repair to the Dekka's ancestral Hall without delay for a -plenary session. The laconic order ceased as the instrument went blank. -Julian Varon looked at Narda for a long moment. Then he shrugged his -shoulders. "We'll have to leave right away, it may be _emergency_!" - -Narda nodded. "We'll have barely time to change in the spacer." - -From below, the strain of the _Ecstasiana_ rose to engulf them in a -flood of melody. - -She laid a sculptured hand on his arm. She was silent. She was waiting. -The _Dekka's_ summons brooked no delay. For this was no game of mere -intrigue, but a gigantic fight instinct with the overwhelming drama -of the unseen. The huge Mutant on the floor groaned and rolled to one -knee. He had the strength and courage of a _Felirene_. He got up and -rushed with scorn and hatred written on his features. He came with all -rockets firing. Julian stood there in the battering storm and fought -back. He dug his left into the flesh of the Mutant inches deep, then -ripped a hook to his jaw. In the clinch that followed he could hear -Narda's sobbing breath, as the Mutant's laces pounded low; he countered -with secret, murderous tactics of his own. Then, he pulled the trigger -on his left hand, aiming with precision at a vital spot. He let it go. -He heard the Mutant crash against the floor and lay still. Julian stood -for a moment with his tongue on fire, his lungs heaving like bellows -with the effort. He bent down and forced himself to search the man, but -there were no clues on the giant. - - * * * * * - -From above, Atalanta was like a gargantuan bottle left behind by some -god in his cups. Narda at the controls brought the intra-Moon spacer -spiraling down expertly to a landing behind a concealing rampart of -rock. Ahead of them a black, basaltic cliff reared its jagged crags, -its boulder-strewn base seemingly impassable. Nevertheless, the two -masked and cloaked figures hurried their steps toward the desolate -barrier. - -"We're probably late!" Julian observed. "We seem to be the last to -arrive." He drew his dark, _Felirene_-lined cloak closer about him and -led the way forward. - -"Small loss if we've missed the preliminaries!" Narda replied. "I -wonder how much longer the _Dekka's_ going to wait? For fifty years -Mutants have been appearing in our midst in small numbers--changed -overnight, rendered sterile--and the scientists did nothing about it. -Lately it has become a plague that threatens the Moons with extinction, -and still we're fumbling in the dark! Oh, Julian!" Her voice rose in an -ascending scale of grief. - -"Don't move!" Julian whispered harshly and froze into immobility. He'd -detected motion--something that had stirred among the boulders to his -right. Instinctively his fingers groped for the handle of the tiny -weapon under his arm-pit. No bigger than a toy-gun, its electronic -stream was devastating at close quarters. He aimed it at the spot where -he had sensed movement and fired as a darker shadow catapulted out of -the gloom. - -The spectral-blue beam of radiance from the weapon met the creature -in midair and melted a jagged hole in its side; there was a fiendish -scream of agony, then briefly a muffled tumult among the boulders. - -"What on Jupiter was it?" - -Narda stepped forward to investigate, but Julian stopped her. "No time -now." It mattered little what manner of beast had waylaid them. The -Jovian satellites, even frigid Callisto, had teemed with life of their -own before colonization by Man. And, since the Terrans had preferred -to build stupendous cities within transparent, berylo-plastic shields, -shaped like bottles, there had been small point in the systematic -destruction of native fauna. The cities were largely self-sustaining, -anyway. All commerce and intercourse was carried on by air. Only -adventurers and fools would venture into the wastelands ... adventurers -and fools, and perhaps, members of the _Dekka_. - -As they reached the base of the cliff, Julian glanced back at Narda and -smiled. "Be alert, I'm forcing issues tonight ... inaction's killing -me!" He was like a Martian eagle--poised for battle. - -Narda sensing his mood smiled thinly in the shadows. - -She wondered silently what new, macabre mission would be assigned to -them this time. And hoped that the summons meant something far more -than the usual battle between rival Societies striving to milk the -venom from each other's fangs. For on at least three major Moons, Io, -Europa and Callisto, men and women were struck by an invisible foe that -left them trembling with fever, and when that dwindled away, a tide of -silver rose from the roots of their hair, and even the eyes became -luminous with the deadly patina. Nothing was known of Ganymede. It was -hard to tell in the absence of reports, for Ganymede, aside from its -own native civilization, had been colonized by Terran Mutants, who -could and did procreate, thus perpetuating their race. But the victims -of the Silver Plague were left sterile. It was hard to differentiate. -Meanwhile the Moons were dying! - -And yet, a stubborn feeling in her heart kept insisting that perhaps -the _Plague_ was something man-made, and like all poisons should have -an antidote. She glanced at Julian and shuddered with anguish--there -would be no progeny for them--her own turn might be next! What a -fiendish weapon, if _it was a weapon_, she thought. The ultimate in -refinement of warfare--a refinement that in their Moons had been going -on for three hundred years! - - * * * * * - -Narda shivered again, increasingly cold, as she let her mind rove -briefly over their past history and their centuries of spurious -peace. For nothing as crude as open, physical warfare disturbed ever -the equilibrium of the various Moons. On the surface, the various -governments maintained the most cordial relations--idyllic almost. -But underneath--that was a different story! The most ruthless strife -had never abated for even an hour. It might take the form of secretly -systematic destruction of vibroponic farms of a world desperately in -need of food; or perhaps the categorical embargo of essential supplies -non-existent in another Moon. Or the proselyting of vast members of -colonists from a sister world by means of economic lures. The loser -always paid enormous ransom in whatever it was the victor coveted. - -Thus the subterranean warfare was carried on by secret Societies, much -as hitherto the Ancients on Terra had employed secret agents, members -of the powerful "Intelligence." Only that on the "Moons," the Societies -had much greater power than the _laissez-faire_ governments themselves. -Each Moon had its "Society," disavowed, legendary, invisible. They -maintained secret armies of Astro-operatives and space navies always in -readiness for _any_ eventuality--or an initial _open_ break that none -of them had the courage to be the first to start. But more important -still, in their vast, secret laboratories, armies of scientists and -technicians toiled ceaselessly on new techniques and inventions. -Delved into intricate psychological data that was a miracle of -ingenuity, calculated always to prepare as far as possible against the -_unpredictable_. - -The murmuring wind of Io swirled among the stones and laved them with -its icy caress, and Narda trembled violently again. This time the spasm -failed to abate, and she whispered through chattering teeth: - -"Please, Julian ... hurry. I'm chilled to the marrow ... d-dear...." - -"You're what?" His voice was suddenly a rasping in his throat. - -Julian straightened slowly from where he kneeled at the base of the -cliff, where he'd been activating the mechanism of the concealed -entrance with the wrist transmitter. He eyed the convulsed form of -Narda then touched her burning forehead; he noted the tendons corded -at her throat. A cold sweat of anguish beaded his brow as he said -casually, "It is cold, darling," and then he punched carefully, -precisely, and cried with agony as he felt his hand touch her flesh. -He caught her tenderly as she slumped in his arms without a sound. He -kissed her cold cheek and sought consolation in the fact that she would -not suffer the first harrowing convulsive fever of the Plague. It would -last for two hours. _How well he knew from experience the course of the -disease!_ And he hoped Narda would not come to before then. - -Quickly he retraced his steps to where they had left the ship, and -deposited her inert form in the control room. Then he prepared a note -which he placed in her hand, it read: "_It was the kindest thing to do, -darling. Wait until I return. There's hope._" - -He finally adjusted the wrist-transmitter to the exact wave-length -required to open the entrance to the _Dekka's_ Hall of Sessions, raced -swiftly toward the cliff like a disembodied shadow. In the distance -a golden _Felirene_ wailed its banshee love-call, urgent, savage--as -savage as the burning agony that stifled Julian's breath, and as -primordial. - - - II - - _"For this is wisdom-- - Not to love and live - But to question what Fate - Or the Gods may give...."_ - - Terra--20th Century. - -"I for one, have no intention of being sterilized by--shall we -say--remote control!" The sardonic voice paused for emphasis. That -would be _Astran_, Julian thought as he entered the great Hall, vast -enough to encompass an army. The satirical tones were all too familiar; -he had heard them many, many times during the years he had risen from -a mere Astro-operative, through the successive stages of "Facet," -Section-Facet Arch-Guardian; Techno-Star and finally had become -Control-Facet, representing the flat, top-most facet of the stupendous -jewel that hung above the Dais of the _Dekka_. "Dekkans," the voice -continued, "despite my great age, I can think of less inglorious ends -than to die impotent!" The flaming glory of the immense diamond cut in -the shape of a ten-point double star, veiled the speaker. - -"Perhaps we're not facing a conscious enemy at all--that is, none that -we have been able to discover," Astran amended with a dry chuckle -distilled of acid. "And believe me, the resources of the _Dekka_ are -anything but negligible! However, it may be that through a weakening -of our race as a whole because of our existence under a different -environment than Earth, we have succumbed to a microorganism native -to these Moons, which originally were too alien to fit in mankind's -metabolic processes. But now, now that through centuries of adaptation -we have subtly changed. _It_ ... whatever it is, filtrable virus, -microorganism, or whatever, _has had a chance to take hold_. All of -you know the effects of the disease--hypertrophy of pigmentation -glands--silver hair and eyes, as well as its one single deadly -result--_sterility_!" Astran paused on the ghastly thought and let it -sink in. - -"Our scientists have been unable to isolate the germ, it must be a -filtrable virus ... that is their problem. But, if as I suspect there -is a ... what was it the barbaric, ancient Romans called it?... a -_Deux ex machina_ behind it, then, by the perdurable glory of our -Moon, gentlemen, I pledge a holocaust that'll dwarf Jupiter's Red Spot -into insignificance!" The capacity for destruction in Astran's cold, -dispassionate voice was awesome. - -In the ensuing silence, Julian's mind trained to the apex of its -wide-awakedness, felt the horror-vibration that swept the audience of -Dekkans. He saw the coruscating streamers of living fire that blazed -from the stupendous double star, and, with a feeling of shock saw -that ahead of him an Astro-operative's mask had slid imperceptibly to -one side, enough to expose a tell-tale _silver tide that had reached -half-an-inch above the hair-roots_! - -Casually almost, Julian moved with his strange, smooth elegance -over the ethereal blueness of the safiro-plast flooring, and the -imperturbable gaze of his frigid eyes probed into the suddenly startled -glare of the man. Without warning his hand flashed out and came away -with the torn mask. A wealth of hair that had been tinted gold but -showed unmistakable silver at the roots and parting cascaded to his -shoulders. - -The narrow face of the Mutant, with its thin, high-bridged nose and -silver eyes, flushed crimson as he was exposed, and the long claw-like -hand darted to his side, groping for the deadly Power-rapier that -was _de rigeur_. All in one sinuous motion he lunged with the weapon -that described a silver vortex under the fulgurant star. In the utter -silence Julian, too, had drawn. - -The breath of all present seemed to pause for a startled second, then -their ranks split to give them room. There could be no interference -in a duel, that was the law. There was courage in the Mutant, a -fanatical valor that was mirrored in his eyes. He knew his life to be -forfeit--and he intended to sell it as dearly as he possibly could. - - * * * * * - -Only the singing impact of the blades was heard, as the darting swords -parried and cut, swirling streamers of unleashed power. And suddenly, -the Mutant seemed to recoil upon himself, as if gathering all his -reserves of strength, then he launched himself forward in a vertiginous -fury of unholy speed. And that was his undoing, for Julian trained -under Jovian gravity could more than match it, and the Mutant staking -all on speed, had had to sacrifice his guard. There was a soundless -flash, like the glare from a gigantic glass, and where the Mutant's -chest had been there was only space, space lit by the spectral-blueness -of the Dekka Star. The body fell a charred and twisted thing from which -the watchers averted their eyes. The peculiar odor of disintegrated -flesh stung their nostrils. - -For the first time in living memory, a spy had contrived to enter their -midst. Julian didn't care to think what would happen to the units who -guarded and activated the Neuro-graphs that were posted the length of -the entrance corridor. Still, it was obvious that only a mind of great -power could have had the satanic ingenuity to plan an invasion of the -_Dekka's_ Hall of Sessions. - -Julian Varon bent over the mutilated form suppressing an impulse to -retch. It was unmistakably a _true_ Mutant from Ganymede, where the -dark flower of their civilization had reached obscure heights. The -features of the man were unmistakeable. As he straightened, Julian -raised his left arm exposing the tiny double star at his wrist, symbol -of his rank, and belatedly reported to the _Dekka_. - -"A Ganymedean Mutant, _Serenity_!" Julian spoke, facing toward the Dais -where he knew Astran stood behind the veiling curtain of light shed -by the diamond star. "This dubious honor is the second one tonight," -Julian said with a mirthless laugh. "I've fought one bare-handed, the -other with Power-rapiers, I should like the next encounter to be with -'Electro-cannon!' However, perhaps these two encounters are something -of a clue. Surely," he paused and swept the assembled Dekkans with his -eyes, "they must form part of a definite pattern." - -"Please continue, Control-Facet," Astran's voice held a note of -suppressed excitement. - -"Simply that it has occurred to me, that while we on Io, the dwellers -on Europa and even Callisto have been ravaged by this hellish disease, -Ganymede has failed even to _mention_ the scourge in their reports. -Even taking for granted their genius for silence and intrigue--their -aloofness from their sister-worlds' affairs, such a catastrophe as -this Plague should have blasted them out of their shells, _if they have -been ravaged, too_! If not," Julian paused deliberately, and into these -words he put all the dynamic, irresistible power of his trained voice, -"_we should investigate, regardless of consequences_!" - -"Investigate!" Astran's voice held a grim sardonicism. "If what I -_intuit_ is true, we, the Dekka are prepared to underwrite Jovian -history for the next hundred years!" - -Julian sighed with a sudden feeling of exultance, and he knew why. -Wryly, he was aware that what Astran termed "intuit" was an integer -of vastly complicated cerebro-geometric figures; graphs of brainpower -coordinates and emotional integers, whose tendrils root-like delved -into the innermost recesses of the human mind. And Astran was perhaps -the greatest Cerebro-Geometrician of them all. Quite obviously the -scientists of the Dekka had been far from idle. And, the expose of the -Mutant spy had been like a piece in a jig-saw puzzle falling into place -and revealing the beginnings of a pattern of some sort, but as yet not -clear. - -"Quorum!" Astran's voice rose imperatively. "Astro-operatives and -Facets clear the Hall. All others remain." - -The real session was about to begin. Julian Varon knew it all by heart. -The endless series of individual reports on every nook and corner -of their worlds, so that each member of the Dekka present would be -acquainted with the sum total of their individual experiences. Still -they remained masked. - - * * * * * - -A great multitude of lesser members surged toward the exit, while those -chosen to remain grouped forward under the flaming diamond star, whose -light veiled the ten members of the _Dekka_. For the ten leaders of -their order of whom Astran was the foremost, might be known by their -names, recognized by their voices, but they were never seen. There was -a saying that all others "could enter the light, but could never touch -the flame." - -All the waning night, while Io revelled in a fantastic carnival of -pleasure, they gave their reports in minute detail, and the ten minds -on the dais that formed the Dekka, made calculations with infinite -patience and fed them to the Neuro-graphs by their desks complicated -cerebro-geometric figurates were set up, and woven into the matrix -of their problem. The possible influence of certain key figures in -the Societies of other Moons whose intelligence, emotional stability -and intellectual attributes were known, was reduced to high-level -variables, and again fed to the marvelous machines together with the -relevant data culled from the members present. Astran was like a raging -juggernaut, asking questions, prodding laggard memories, directing the -other nine members of the Dekka. He was tireless, and pitiless. How at -his great age he could accomplish it, was a mystery. But it had been -that boundless energy and stupendous will that had been responsible for -the greatness of Io--not to speak of the _Dekka_. - -_He must be over two hundred!_ Julian thought with awe, recalling dimly -the "Memoirs" of an earlier historian whom Astran had commissioned to -compile a history of Io, and in so doing had managed to bedevil that -poor man's life to such an extent, that the historian had counted the -cessation of Astran's visits as among the compensations for dying!... -That had been fifty years ago, when already for a century Astran had -led the Dekka. - -At last, the Neuro-Graph machines, marvelous as they were could do no -more. Out of that welter of figures, endless reports and calculations, -one master mathematical conclusion remained. _The answer lay in -Ganymede!_ - -It suddenly occurred to Julian just how ghastly was the irony of -their position. For their ancestors in gaining all the "conditions of -freedom," had gained far more than they'd bargained for, including this -epidemic of Mutations that in rendering them sterile sealed the doom -of their Moons. Had _Terra_ known it, this was the perfect answer--a -few decades and all of them would remain only as a Mars-dry chapter in -history. - -They had sown the whirlwind ... and were reaping extinction! - -And Julian found a kindred feeling in the vast capacity for sheer -destruction that Astran had hinted at tonight. - -If the answer lay in Ganymede with its dual civilization of Terran -mutants and their descendants, and the original Ganymedean race, -he meant to visit that stupefying world of cabals and intrigues and -unrivaled luxury. - - * * * * * - -Julian stood alone at last beside the spacer where lay Narda's -unconscious form. He glanced up into the ultra-marine skies blazing -with myriad fiery roses, and gazed at the red ruby that was Ganymede -reflecting the great Red Spot of the parent world. - -Finally Julian entered the spacer and tenderly raised Narda's head -to pour Sulfalixir down her throat. First he had to take her where -she would be cared for, and then ... and then.... With a sigh he took -the controls and set the drive. In seconds he was soaring, above the -deserted plains. - - - III - - "_Terra glances--Men bend low-- - As Death dances, on tip-toe!_" - - Io--_27th Century_. - -Like a shallow bowl hooded in starlight, the secret Ganymedean landing -fields came rushing upward as Julian coasted the muted spacer, -descending in a great rush of wind. - -It seemed deserted and bleak, coldly uninviting. There was a brief jar -as Julian made contact and brought the small but almost invulnerable -semi-cruiser to a partial stop. His fingers were still over the -banked keys when it came with mind-shattering suddenness--a burst of -intolerable light! The spacer trembled, shuddered like a living thing. -Instantly the hidden depression was alive with shadow-shapes as the -first shot struck home. Again the livid-orange flare blotted out the -starlight with a macabre radiance, and Julian reeled against the panel. -He had time for but one thought: "Hidden! Secret, eh!" - - * * * * * - -He pressed the stud and drove the "Drive" forward one quarter. The -spacer reared like a mammoth stallion and plunged vertiginously into -the mass of men and projectors, scattering rocks and limbs in a welter -of crushed metal and torn flesh. The pandemonium of screams and -explosions was drowned in the roar of the hurtling ship. The warm blood -spurted out of Julian's ears and its acrid scent was in his nostrils. -The momentum had carried the spacer across the entire field before -Julian could bring it to a stop. Reeling with the effects of concussion -he drove himself out of the wounded vessel and into the darkness of -the tumbled terrain. The city was very near, he knew, even if no -garish brilliance heralded it. He had to get to it.... _He had to!_ -The "plan" was complete, and even if only one small phase of the plan -were defeated, the whole pattern would have to be reconstructed and the -element of surprise would be lost. - -And then he realized grayly that an _awareness_ of the Plan existed. -Else how explain such a reception? Violence was out in the open now. -And, the _Dekka_ had not been the one to force the issue. Still, the -pressure of the thought in his mind--the overwhelming responsibility -of his task--was so great, that it drove him with cyclonic power. It -lent wings to his strength as he covered the distance in great leaps, -and was profoundly grateful for his Jovian training. The tumult behind -him receded into the distance, became indistinct. But Julian knew that -transmitters would be crackling with warning. His instinctive ruse with -the spacer had worked like a miracle, but he knew he could not hope to -have disposed of all his attackers. They would be on his trail like -bloodhounds in short order! - -The darkness now was but faintly suffused with the shimmer of -starlight, and great sections of the sky were blotted out. He came up -against a solid barrier and realized he was in the city. Ahead loomed a -vast shadow whose upthrust towers caught glimmers of faint luminescence. - -"The Temple!" he breathed, and darted like a hunted animal into the -silent sanctuary. He didn't deceive himself that he would be inviolate, -although that was the law; but it was a respite. Time to get his -bearings in the damnable city of darkness and tortuous ways. - -Once within the lofty nave of the temple, Julian took swift stock of -his surroundings. It was illuminated with surpassing skill, soothing, -caressing almost. But it suddenly struck him that the perfection of -the workmanship had a double purpose--it served primarily to mask the -impregnability of the place. It was a veritable fortress instantly -convertible if the need arose. It had been built to withstand a siege! - -Ahead of him was a lofty, jewel-encrusted altar. But no idol was -enthroned there. No inscription even. Only the raging inferno of a -miniature atomic-vortex held under control by some unknown means and -enclosed in a transparent substance which he rightly judged to be an -illusion, and was a field of force, in reality. There seemed to be no -exit anywhere, except the entrance through which he had come. Julian -had suddenly come to the end. - -He searched like a trapped creature, his whole being convulsed by the -urgency of his will, while the tumult of the chase drew nearer and -nearer with desperate urgency he explored the altar. "_Surely_," he -reasoned, "_there must be some way the priests of the temple reach the -nave!_" With frantic fingers he explored the gemmed surfaces, driving -his mind to intuit the logical means of ingress not to speak _egress_. -The chromatic shimmer of the gems blurred and merged together, formed -curiously fantastic patterns, as his senses reeled through the -after-effects of concussion. Imperceptibly almost, his probing fingers -felt a slight projection on a flat surface. With a swift, jabbing -motion he pushed in, and a circular section the size of a small coin -slid to one side. There was a thin metallic ring beneath. He twisted -it, and the whole section large enough for a stooping man to enter -swung silently inward. He hesitated briefly gazing into the dark -aperture. He could already hear clearly the shouted commands of his -pursuers, as the troops deployed into the branching streets. He entered -and the aperture closed. - - * * * * * - -When the golden _Felirene_ sprawled on the fabulous rug twitched its -plumed tail and narrowed its lambent eyes to slits of emerald fire, -Fermin, the Arch-Mutant did not move. He did not raise his head. - -The silver-grey eyes remained fixed, the slightly narrow skull -immobile; outwardly, he seemed absorbed in the photo-plastic record. -But the long, fragile finger of his hand pressed one of the gems that -studded the milky whiteness of the Jadite chair on which he sat. -Imperceptibly the jewel depressed. In the open hearth before him, a -burning log of aromatic wood crackled and sent up a shower of sparks -like shooting stars against the blue glory of the aquamarine glass -columns that flanked it. - -"The slightest movement means death!" Fermin said softly, in a voice -that was calm and poised and unhurried. "Even a spoken word might set -_it_ off." In the brooding silence, the subdued hissing of the flames -could be heard. - -"You see, intruder, you're standing in a radio beam that controls a -Neuro-flash. The slightest movement disturbs the beam, which in turn -releases the "flash." A most deplorable accident...." His voice trailed -into a melodious undertone faintly etched with laughter. Then he rose -and flung back the folds of his jewelled scarlet robe, bright as fresh -blood, with a gesture of fastidious elegance. - -"Come, _Sappho_ ... let us welcome our guest!" he bade the now -crouching, six-foot-long beast whose formidable claws were bared. -"This is a memorable occurrence!" He moved with an effortless surety -remarkable in its economy of movement; there was something oddly -regal and imperturbable in his stride. Beside him, Sappho, the feral -creature, paced with a fluid motion almost like flight, its golden fur -gleaming with firelight reflections. - -Across an invisible, if lethal barrier they met. - -Fermin gazed into the inscrutable eyes, blue-grey and silvered, almost -like his own. He appraised the astonishing shoulders of the man, -the golden hair with the unmistakable rising tide of silver. Noted -the absence of weapons except for the usual power-rapier. "What a -magnificent addition to our cause," he meditated. Unhurriedly Fermin -retraced his steps to the chair, and depressed another flashing gem -that shut off the radio-beam, then came back to the silent man. "How," -he inquired in a voice like ice, "did you get in here?" Inwardly Fermin -was torn between the desire to let _Sappho_ display her peculiar -talents, and that of adding yet another valuable recruit to the cause. -He smiled slowly as if reading the intruder's thoughts: "It is safe to -speak now," he pointed out. "I've shut off the power." - -"My entrance is but a detail," Julian answered. His eyes traveled -slowly, noting the shock of translucent hair, the silver eyes, then -paused briefly at the power-rapier hanging from Fermin's belt. For a -second he had an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh at the ghastly -irony of it. After waiting for hours in the secret passage, he had to -blunder headlong into the presence of the one being in all Ganymede he -would have avoided at all costs! - -"I sought sanctuary and there was the Temple-nave. It's inviolate, -isn't it?" (_The point was, should he brazen it out or fight._) - -"Of course!" - -"But obviously, I couldn't remain in the Temple forever, so ... I had -to find an exit." (_Wonder if the paralysis ray works on a Felirene!_) - -"Continue, please," Fermin's voice was a smooth purr. - -"The atomic vortex drew my attention and I found beneath it what I -sought. Then, when I came in here and saw you absorbed in those -records ... why, I hesitated...." - -"_As simple as that._" A world of irony lay in Fermin's pellucid tones. -The smile of ancient Medusa, would have been mild compared with the -change that came over the Arch-Mutant's face. "No doubt, it is also a -mere detail that the Atomic-vortex--which represents, incidentally, -the Absolute--is absolutely fatal! That secret exit beneath the altar -is known only to five other persons besides myself. And, that the -slightest miscalculation in manipulating the secondary controls of the -last door that leads to this chamber, releases an electronic current -sufficient in itself to incinerate a squadron! Remarkable!" Fermin's -eyes were flashing molten silver. "And casually strolled through!" The -hooded eyes were shadowed with death now. "However," the unhurried -voice continued, "_we expected you, Julian Varon_." - -"Yes, I am Varon," Julian answered with a sort of sardonic calm he -reserved for moments when death loomed very near. "I am too near _the -flame_ to have dispensed with your attention. The point is, Fermin, -I thought you a gentleman, while you seem to consider me a knave. -I'm afraid we are both mistaken!" His generous mouth curved in a -contemptuous smile, as the taunt struck home. Death was something the -members of the Dekka had to learn to accept in advance. - - * * * * * - -Fermin chuckled, if anything as vulgar as a chuckle might be said to -issue from those chiselled, aristocratic lips, but his face was ashen -as his hand grasped the neutralized hilt of his Power-rapier. - -"My rank is higher than a Prince, Dekkan--I don't have to be a -gentleman! My mistake lay in thinking that you might be interested in -an offer I was about to make. After all, _you're a sterile Mutant now_." - -The savage Felirene licked its golden muzzle and gave a muffled roar -as if tired of waiting, its prodigious musculature rippled under the -metallic sheen of its priceless fur. Fermin stroked it caressingly. - -"See, even Sappho has lost patience. I regret I must subject you to -the Psycho-graph--that is, unless you prefer to tell me the reason for -your visit of your own accord." The mellifluous accents were a study in -modulation--clear, precise--sardonic. - -Julian had a flashing remembrance of what a Psycho-graph could do -to him. It had happened once before during his twenty-nine years of -existence. He relived for an instant the burst of dazzling light, the -agonizing fury in his brain, while voices that mocked and danced and -probed penetrated deeper and deeper into his consciousness until they -became a searing Babel in his mind. Julian had vowed it would never -happen again. Suddenly he blanked his mind with swift ruthlessness. - -And with the same savage ruthlessness he struck. A tiny paralysis -beam flashed from the ring on his left little finger and stretched -out the Felirene without a sound. His right hand already had sought -the Power-rapier and the flashing blade described a scintillant wheel -before him. But Fermin's reflexes were quite as swift. His own blade -leaped into his long, aristocratic hand, as he sought cunningly to back -toward the Jadite chair. - -But Julian didn't give him that chance he needed, his onslaught drove -forward with appalling speed, slashing, parrying, probing like a -living thing, until the Arch-Mutant's face went gray, shadowed by -the first fear he had known in his extraordinary life. Craftily, the -scarlet-robed Arch-dynast feinted to the left, in the secret Ganymedean -lure, and to his vast astonishment saw the lure engaged, _and then_, -a searing flash that coruscated before his dazzled eyes left him only -the neutralized hilt of his rapier in his hand! Fermin had a confused -picture of molten drops spilling from the weightless hilt and of golden -motes dancing before his eyes, when the paralysis beam convulsed him -in a frozen shudder and he tumbled slowly to the rug--graceful even in -unconsciousness. - -Julian did not waste a single precious second. Both Fermin and his -_alter ego_ would be out for at least two or three hours, he knew. -But his presence might be discovered there any moment. He search -the jewelled cabinets that lined one wall. Feverishly he scanned -the photo-plastic record on the stand, and even read the flowing -hieroglyphics of Ganymede, so much like the written Arabic of forgotten -antiquity, which he found in a special compartment over the hearth, and -found ... nothing! Nothing but a single word, frozen and faded in a now -neutralized telesolidograph screen that flanked the white splendor of -the Jadite chair. The word was "_Paradisiac_." And that was the name -of perhaps the most glamorous, and the most dangerous pleasure den in -their known universe. - -At last in desperation, he searched the fallen body unceremoniously. -The jewelled garments of the Arch-Mutant yielded no records, no secret -notes, only a tiny vial fashioned of a single blood-red _Panagran_, -which contained a colorless liquid. This, Julian thrust into a pocket. -Then like a wraith he melted into the aquamarine penumbra of the -titanic columns and disappeared as soundlessly as he had come. - -Once out in the diluted scarlet of Ganymede's morning, he saw that the -temple was ringed with guards. Most of them lounged in the careless -sense of security that comes with routine. Julian, the pupils of -his eyes dilating, slid along the side of one wall, there was only -one guard there--beyond was a wide avenue somewhere along which the -Paradisiac was located. He moved as quietly as a _Felirene_, as -implacable as death. The guard never even felt the blow that felled -him. Then Julian was sprinting madly as shouts rose behind him in the -roseate gloom. - -"Damn this pink fog!" he exclaimed through clenched teeth. - -Behind him the muffled stamp of scurrying feet and the metallic -scraping of power-rapiers became distinct; oaths and imprecations in -various dialects grew loud. - - * * * * * - -He swerved aside into a half-concealed doorway to hide his progress, -for it wouldn't do to have his pursuers see him. A badly aimed -power-beam from an old-fashioned heat-ray gun splashed off a -wall not a block distant, in incandescent fury. "The fools!" he -thought contemptuously. But his eyes scanned the buildings for -a sign of the "Paradisiac." He was beyond fear--beyond emotion -even. But what bothered him in a sort of dazed wonderment was that -the word "Paradisiac" should have been frozen in the neutralized -telesolidograph. For his assignment as part of the "Plan" was to meet -another member of the Dekka, a Techno-Star, at the "rendezvous!" How -Fermin, the Arch-Mutant had managed to obtain that information was -incredible! It was an index to plans and forces he had not previously -conceived. - -But the problem now was to find the Paradisiac, he had merely a matter -of minutes in which to seek concealment. And in this world of tortuous -cabals not to speak of instant death, no blatant signs advertised -pleasure, shelter or concealment. The latter was an art that was -subtly applied to itself. One either did, or did not, know where to go. -Sanctuary was there for the asking--at a price. But the signs were only -for the initiate to recognize. - -Desperately Julian tuned in the secret wave-length of the _Dekka_, -and turning his wrist-transmitter to full force, sent out in code a -streamlined account of what had transpired since his landing, as a last -detail he told briefly of his encounter with Fermin, and of taking the -curious vial from the Arch-Mutant. It was then that out of the soft, -roseate haze, a brilliant, vari-colored pinwheel flashed briefly, then -vanished as if it had never been, not fifty paces from where he stood. -And Julian without hesitation was at the blank, beryloid wall in a few -strides. - -With his rapier-scabbard, he tapped a series of sounds, and the wall -seemed to part, just wide enough for him to squeeze through the -aperture. Behind him, the incredibly resistant plastic wall had closed. - -In silence he waited, trying to control his labored breathing. Knowing -that he was being inspected, and that the translucent barrier before -him would or would not open--as _they_ willed. The thought flashed -through his mind that perhaps this _sub-rosa_ stronghold of the Dekka, -kept ostensibly as a pleasure-den, might have become tainted--a trap -instead of a refuge. And in that brief instant of harrowing suspense, -Julian became conscious of a presence, something cold and weirdly -impersonal, that pervaded the cubicle with its aura. He shifted -uneasily, poised with a grim determination. The blood-stained fabric -moulded to his superb torso gleamed with the sheen of wet metal under -the soporific illumination. There was no sound save his audible -breathing. - -After what seemed eternity--in reality seconds--the wall before him -slid silently aside. A long corridor stretched before him. It led to -the public rooms. The sudden shock of overwhelming relief had the -quality of vertigo. The quadrangle walls seemed to lose solidity and -become curved. He shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the -wall on the left side of the quadrangle bore a message in brilliant -letters as if they'd emerged glowing from the plastic substance itself. -It was a message and a question: - -"PUBLIC ROOMS NOT NEUTRAL. DISGUISE DESIRED?" - -Julian stared. Behind the silver-grey brilliance of his eyes, a mind -trained to irrevocable decisions worked at the level of maximum -awareness. His judgment balanced factors and variables. True, his -instructions had been to seek sanctuary here, at this place, and -on this street that for all its seemingly deserted obscurity was -honeycombed with palaces fabulous for luxury and unlimited pleasures. -Even the exotic tastes of jaded minds whose more esoteric interests -could only be aroused by pain--the wild suffering of crucified -flesh--were catered to. - -Fugitives from half a dozen worlds lost their identity in the opulent -warrens where "life" so often could be bought and sold with oblique -indifference. But he had to visit the Public Rooms--his only contact -with what he had come to seek _was there_! Someone who had devoted a -lifetime to the Dekka, in Ganymede. Imperturbably he re-read the fading -words, and with a mental squaring of his shoulders, he replied: - -"Yes. Nothing _organic_, of course. But it must be more than merely -skillful!" - -Instantly the wall glowed again: - -"THE SIXTH PANEL TO YOUR LEFT AWAITS YOUR PLEASURE." - - * * * * * - -Julian strode down the hall and paused before the sixth panel, it -opened inwardly with the same silent precision that characterized -everything in the place. Thus far he had seen no one. The maximum -anonymity was, of course, essential. Still, there was something -eerie in the atmosphere of complete detachment. He entered and found -himself in a circular room with curving, almost translucent walls. -The floor was firm, yet resilient under foot. He felt like a fop -at a rejuvenation center, and laughed suddenly at the thought. His -whole countenance was lit by that rare smile. From somewhere a slim, -completely masked creature glided silently into the room. - -Julian judged its height at slightly less than five feet; however, -beyond the fact that its body was undeniably human, and exquisitely -proportioned, Julian was unable to go, for the being's skin-tight -garment left not an inch of surface exposed--except its hands. These -were long, and marvelously sensitive, with a nervous life of their own -as if they acted independently of the Ganymedean's guiding brain. - -They were measuring him now, taking in the magnificent breadth of -shoulder, the long, flat thighs and narrow waist, above which rose -the inverted pyramid that was Julian's torso. At last they carefully -removed his helmet and paused as if appraising the great shock of -golden hair. With a swift motion that took in Julian's entire body, -the designer indicated that Julian strip. Again the exquisite hands -repeated the gesture--impatiently this time--but Julian, his face set, -still hesitated. - -The designer was a native Ganymedean, beyond doubt--Julian knew that -much. But, was it a man or a woman? Julian was well aware that the -exquisite beings of fabulous Ganymede, who even when confronted with -the outrage that was _The Dynasty_, foisted upon them by the Terran -Mutants had disdained arming themselves to the teeth as the rest of -the Moons had done, had some very strange ideas about things. And the -"Control-Facet" had no intention of disrobing before a woman--even as -alien and anonymous a being as the Ganymedeans. His face was beginning -to flush with sheer annoyance. - -As if reading Julian's thoughts, the masked designer shook its head -and made an expressive gesture with its hands, as if Julian's nudity -would be a thing of such utter unimportance, that it would scarcely be -noticed, except as a foundation upon which to achieve a superlative -disguise. And Julian had no alternative. It was either disrobe or enter -the Public Rooms as he was. Mentally he consigned the stubborn race of -Ganymede to the most sulphuric region he could think of, and palming -his electro-beam, undressed. The coldly unemotional designer was unable -to suppress a gasp! Its ancient, long-forgotten Gods must have been -like this; theirs was a cult of beauty, and in Julian it was witnessing -a masterpiece. Almost, reverently, the fluttering hands began their -work. - -The Ganymedean's artistry was very great. "_Part of their accursed -stubbornness!_" Julian thought. For the Ganymedeans had an exasperating -tenacity of purpose which brooked no obstacles until they achieved -their ends--it bordered on genius, or madness, or both. Had they -devoted it to the art of War, Seville-Lorca's "_Jovian Annals_" would -have been a vastly different story. - -The space-tanned face with its slightly flaring nostrils, and large -silver-grey eyes, crowned by the shock of golden mane, began to change -subtly under the magical hands of the designer. Slowly the shoulder -long hair took on a dull, ruddy sheen, while the coppered complexion -paled and a temporary irritant brought a deep flush to his cheeks. -With deft movements, the winged brows were darkened and narrowed, and -the generous, full lips were pulled slightly inwards and taped with -invisi-plastic, until only a thin, cruel curve remained. The Ganymedean -stepped back and scrutinized the effect. Quickly it crossed to a part -of the circular chamber and then pressed a stud. A great section of -the wall sank downward, revealing tier after tier of dazzling costumes -already composed. There were gossamer silks from Venus, lustrous as -moonlight pools; the opulent gleam of stiff brocades from Mars, as -unyielding as the character of that supercilious race. Velvets like -crushed petals, embroidered in _Starlimans_, the priceless green -diamonds of Mercury; vivid fabrics from distant Neptune, which were -not woven at all, but secret plastics worth a small fortune each. And, -they were all green--in an infinite gradation of shades, nuances, hues. -The artist's hands reached and drew forth a single garment open at the -back. And then the real work began. - - * * * * * - -Julian's eyes were inscrutable. He had not been asked what effect was -to be achieved, or indeed how he wished to be changed. True, nothing of -an _organic_ nature had been attempted. But he was not used to this. - -The Ganymedean designer, whatever it was, was a great artist. Great -enough to take liberties, or else possessed of the effrontery of -genius. But then, Julian meditated, Ganymedeans were like that. There -were times when one didn't know whether to slay them or leave them. -Then it occurred to Julian that perhaps the instructions of the _Dekka_ -had been specific. But dismissed the thought with a wry smile. Even -the Dekka's instructions as to the actual disguise would have been -quietly ignored by this creature. It was a work of art, and in that -realm, Ganymedeans listened to no one. But his meditation was cut short -by the gestures of the artist, which clearly indicated that Julian tilt -his head. In his hands he held a tiny bottle, and something like an -eye-dropper. - -"I said _nothing organic_!" Julian reminded him coldly. - -"A tint, nothing more," the Ganymedean spoke for the first time in -soft, slurred accents. "It will only last a few days, then disappear. -And, without it, the work is incomplete." Julian submitted reluctantly. - -The artist was at last finished. One graceful hand motioned toward a -huge moon of a mirror suspended by anti-gravitic means, and Julian -turned curiously to see what the creature had transformed him into. - -His astounded gasp was audible in the silent alcove. For he saw a -tall, disdainful Martian whose violet eyes looked coldly out a face he -couldn't recognize as his own; a mane of ruddy, curling ringlets fell -to the neck-line, while thin, cruel lips curving slightly expressed -unutterable boredom. For the rest, his body was sheathed in palest -silver-green, of a texture like human epidermis--satiny, rippling with -his every movement, while a great belt of _Panagrans_ circled his -narrow waist. - -The Ganymedean held up an expressive finger, then flew to a drawer -hidden beneath the folds of the costumes. He extracted something and -came swiftly back. Julian felt a sharp pain in his left ear-lobe, then -the icy sensation of a cauterizer stanching the capillary flow, and -something was fastened to his ear. When he gazed into the reflecting -moon, he saw a huge, solitary _Starliman_ swirling green fire from -his left ear-lobe. The picture of a ruthless, interplanetary fop was -superbly complete. Only a Neuro-Graph machine could possibly have -revealed his identity now. - -Julian went over to where his former garments lay on the floor, and -fastened his Power-rapier to the jeweled belt, then extracted the -vial he had taken from Fermin, taking care that the designer didn't -see it, and secreted it on his person. When he straightened up again, -the Ganymedean was holding a cloak of rich _ocelandian_ fur which -Julian threw about his shoulders. The artist gazed at him for a brief -instant, with something like a smile in its brilliant eyes--all that -could be seen of his masked face. Then as silently as he had come, he -literally walked into a section of the panelling which gave way before -him and disappeared in the endless labyrinth that was the Paradisiac. -The door of the circular room opened soundlessly. Julian's hand flew -to the electro-beam under his arm-pit, but no one came. It was a mute -invitation to depart. - -The long corridor led him to the balcony overhanging the Public Rooms. -Below him was a hall so vast, built on a scale so great, that it -imparted a feeling of limitless distances, yet he knew this was an -illusion. To his right, a crysto-plast conveyor spiralled down in a -swirl of imprisoned waters, foaming like a rushing stream, while at the -bottom, freed by the deliberately lessened gravity, the worst and best -from all the inhabited worlds sat at individual platforms or revolved -lazily in the upper levels. The enchantment of fantastic harmonies wove -a subtle spell of desire and nameless longings. But although he felt -the magic of the extravagantly honeyed chords, Julian reminded himself -that was not there to propitiate the eternal caprice of the flesh. - - - IV - - _"Within my heart, all ecstasy, - Within my eyes, all visions dwell. - Life--Death, I turn to rhapsody-- - I am the deathless Philomel."_ - - TERRA--20th Century. - -He swept the assemblage with a glance. Purposely he had stood for -seconds in full view. A perfect fop--as frivolous, as dangerous as -anything the Paradisiac harbored. The ultimate in elegance. - -Julian stepped on the conveyor and had the illusion of being borne -along on a cataract of foam to where an immaculately garbed Ganymedean -bowed and led the way to a secluded platform embowered in the -geometrical interlacings of frost crystals. The panel in the table's -center instantly suffused with softest light as he sat down, and a note -like the echo of a forgotten song rang subdued. - -"Venusin ... undiluted!" Julian ordered laconically. - -Mentally he enjoyed in anticipation the exhilarating power of the -treacherous drink. It was precisely what a successful adventurer would -have ordered there. - -He waited calmly, conscious that he was the cynosure of many eyes. He -knew a thousand dramas were being enacted in the sumptuous den, under -the masking surface of convention and social intercourse. - -The place was like a gigantic cup abrim with beauty--so much of it--in -the decors, in the music, in the _flesh_, left him cold. A glowing -core of contempt burned within him at the overwhelmingly seductive -weakness it induced. Julian knew he had to be as invulnerable as -berylo-plast--deaf to all the mellower dictums of the heart. He was -here for one single, solitary purpose that was the all-embracing, -the tremendous _now_. To meet a bearer of information so secret, so -profoundly vital, that its possessor had not dared even transmit it -in the highly complicated secret code of the _Dekka_. For that he -had braved what he now realized was certain death. It was his task -to receive it, and pass it through channels that would reach the ten -Dekkan patriarchs. - -Once more, as he had done when he'd paused at the top of the conveyor, -Julian raised his arm and almost imperceptibly made the secret, -immemorable gesture of the Dekka. He was impatient. There was no time. -Disguise or no disguise, he knew that any minute now, the Paradisiac -might erupt like a long-seething volcano. _Why wasn't the person he -was to meet here yet?_ Mechanically his fingers groped for the vial he -had taken from Fermin, and paused startled as he felt the unmistakable -outline of something hard beside the shape of the miniature vial. He -drew it out slowly, palmed so that no observer could discern it from -even a short distance. It was a tiny plastic disc bearing the words: -SUB ROHAN SQUARE. As Julian raised the glass of Venusin to his lips, -he swallowed the disc, which he knew would dissolve. _He already had -met the informant!_ The thought was almost shocking in its intensity. -It could only have been the Ganymedean designer! And yet, the message -in itself was disappointing. What could there be beneath Rohan Square, -the central plaza before the Temple where he'd met Fermin? - -Already amidst the perfect glamour, the seductive illusions of the -Paradisiac, forces were gathering that no Ganymedean art could dispel, -and which were far from being illusory. - -Neighboring platforms had drawn increasingly near; implacable eyes, -devoid of languor or of drugs, gazed with cold intensity at the -frost-trellised bower and its solitary occupant. The lighting effects -of the Paradisiac had changed, dimmed to an idyllic, translucent -twilight, while the music sank to undulations of the B flat tonality -that were magical--plucking at the emotions with unerring skill. - -A draft of fragrance--the heady _florestan_ of Ganymede--made Julian -turn his head. Up the brief stairs of his platform a woman was -ascending calmly. Julian rose, a tiny frown between his eyes. He had -not sent for a companion; then he remembered his brief flash of passion -on the conveyor and wondered with startled dismay if these Ganymedeans -went so far as to read the most intimate thoughts of their guests! But -no, it could not be. - -He shot a clear violet glance of keen appraisal at the girl. She was -a _true_ Mutant. Her utter refinement of features, the classical -loveliness stamped with intolerable pride were beyond doubt Ganymedean, -as was the hair, almost crystalline, that fell in shining waves to her -shoulders. The eyes, an enchanting shade of silvered blue, were smiling -with a secret amusement. - -"Shall one intrude?" The ghost of a smile parted her lips as she sat -down, her priceless gown sweeping the platform with the crystal sheen -of water. She threw back a shawl as sheer and fantastic as the Veil of -Tanit must have been, with a gesture that only a very beautiful woman -can achieve. - -"Enchanted," Julian answered conventionally, but entirely without -warmth. He offered her a drink. Maliciously he suggested _Venusin_, -certain it would be refused. - - * * * * * - -The girl let her glance rove over the wondrous spectacle on the stage -that had emerged from the floor in the center of the hall, and, her -smile was an adventure as she replied: - -"Venusin ... weaver of chimeras ... like all this," she waved an -alabaster hand, "illusion ... dreams. But even our greatest dreams -_betrays_ us sometimes. Yes, let it be Venusin!" - -Julian wondered, straining all his faculties, whether the veiled -warning were a prophecy of things to come, or the ironical skating -on thin ice of the enemy itself! And was aware that part of his mind -kept harping on the loveliness of this cryptic stranger. _What was her -purpose? Had she penetrated his disguise? Was she there to make sure -that under the miracle of art there was some one far more dangerous -than a dissipated Martian fop?_ His answer came from her slender, -fragile hands. _They were twining and untwining like lilies bending -before the wind!_ - -"Let's dance," Julian said suddenly with an emotion he would not -analyze. He rose and caught her roughly up to him. He saw her eyes go -expressionless with surprise, she was stunned a little. And before she -could recover, the irresistible power of Julian's arms had borne her -to the greater anonymity of the dance floor in seconds. One moment -the lyric quality of the atmosphere was part of them, and then the -illusion was shattered as the frost-trellised bower vanished almost -simultaneously with their leaving it. Lurid pencils of unleashed power -impinged on the crysto-plast table charring it, while the fragile walls -disappeared under the barrage. Julian saw a burly Mutant searching for -him, atom-blast in hand, while beside him another Dynast, his face -stamped with the excesses of Vanadol slipped into the pandemonium the -dance-floor had become. - -With cold ruthlessness Julian aimed his electro-beam and saw the upper -part of the Mutant's torso disappear. He saw the other one near the -conveyor and the "electro" flashed again. The beam went through the -creature and struck the great conveyor releasing the imprisoned waters. -An icy geyser of liquid shot upward, and pandemonium broke loose. -All the lights went out and madness stalked the swirling humanity -that desperately sought to escape. He was in a maelstrom of fighting, -shrieking beings and a chaos of noise as tables and chairs crashed. - -"Let me lead ... my eyes are conditioned to darkness!" Julian felt a -tiny hand grasp his arm. - -"So are mine ... but who...." He could see dimly a tiny, slender -figure, scarcely five feet in height, completely masked. Then he -remembered the slurred accents of the artist who had achieved his -disguise. The Ganymedean already was scurrying toward the same -direction in which Julian wanted to go, to the right of where the -conveyor had been. Icy water already swirled around his ankles, and the -babel of sounds had risen to a crescendo of unleashed fear, when Julian -reached the plastic wall. The Ganymedean was ahead of him, and Julian -saw him press a spot in the smooth barrier. A draft of icy air struck -his face as an aperture appeared. He dived in. - - * * * * * - -They must have traveled miles before Julian's Ganymedean guide began -to falter, then stopped. The being had silently ignored every question -thus far, and twice had asked for silence. Now he turned on a tiny -pencil beam and surveyed their surroundings. It was a cavern, musty and -icy in temperature; great festoons of dust held together by age-old -cobwebs hung from the curved ceiling. - -The Ganymedean went directly to a section of the rocky wall on the -left, and searched the crumbling surface minutely with the pencil-beam -until he found what he sought; he made an odd twisting motion with -fingers pressed to the wall, and a circular section slid inward; beyond -was another tunnel ending in a seemingly blank wall. - -"You will find a metal disk in the exact center of the wall," the -Ganymedean explained hurriedly. "Blast it with your electro-beam. -It is the mechanism of a door, the combination to which we do not -possess. Be prepared to _destroy instantly everything that meets your -eyes_--everything!" He motioned for Julian to enter the tunnel. "You -will have only seconds to achieve your purpose. And remember, your -life's already forfeit, so do not hesitate now!" - -"But what _is_ behind that door?" Julian asked, exasperated. "I have a -right to know!" He laid a detaining hand on the Ganymedean's shoulder. -"_I must know!_" - -By the spectral radiance of the pencil-beam, the artist eyed Julian -with a strange expression in his eyes. "As you will, Dekkan," the -being shrugged his shoulders. "You will find a laboratory ... if you -live to reach it. It is doubly guarded, although even the Dynasty -does not suspect the existence of that door, for it is part of the -remains of our own subterranean system. Beyond it ..." the Ganymedean -paused, "in that laboratory is stored the blood-plasma of Mutants who -have voluntarily submitted to _innoculation with a certain disease_. -The resulting modified virus is the _Plague_. It's like a vaccine -magnified a thousand times--its victims do not die, they merely become -_sterile_!" The Ganymedean turned toward where the corridor curving to -the right was lost to view. "I go that way," he said simply. "My place -is here." - -"But ... your message on the disc ... you mentioned Rohan Square!" -Julian exclaimed. "If I survive this, how can I...." - -"_You are standing beneath Rohan Square, and the Temple, Dekkan!_" - -And that was all. Suddenly he was gone like a wraith that melted into -the darkness and the silence, his footsteps muted by the velvet carpet -of dust. Julian hesitated no longer. - -He found the metal disc in the wall, and with the "electro" at low -power destroyed the ancient mechanism of the door. As if released -from the bond that for so long had held it, the great section rolled -back with a crash, carrying away with it a jagged section of plastic -covering from its other side. Julian had a vivid glimpse of startled, -silver-haired technicians who stared unbelieving at the strange -apparition. In that dazed moment of inaction, Julian acted. _He was -in!_ The lethal power of the electro-beam in his hand swept like a -scythe through the group of Mutants. It was ghastly. The blasted sides -of culture vats poured their viscous contents on the floor. There was -a livid, billowing flare of incandescence as acids were struck. It -was a welter of destruction and supernal fire that roared into the -laboratory before any of the Mutants had a chance to act. The acrid -smoke, the odor of disintegrated flesh was like a heavy pall. Through -it, galvanized figures could be seen descending a winding staircase -that led upward from the subterranean lab. The Guards! - - - V - -Julian poured a withering barrage at the plastic staircase, and saw it -disintegrate into golden, dancing motes that merged with the advancing -curtain of fire. He could hear frantic commands shouted from above as -power beams crossed and criss-crossed the lab. The raging maelstrom -was unbearable now, and Julian retreated toward the tunnel. Almost at -the doorway a ponderous section of plastic from the caving ceiling -struck him on the left shoulder and fractured his collar bone. He held -his left arm at the elbow to support the broken clavicle and sprinted -down the tunnel to the corridor. Muffled explosions behind him fed -the cataract of fire. He pushed shut the circular section of wall -and followed as fast as he was able in the direction he had seen the -Ganymedean disappear. - -The corridor seemed endless. Even his tremendous strength was taxed. -Charred, the magnificent costume in tatters, his left side a gory -welter of blood, he kept on doggedly, on and on, the unnerving fear -in his heart--not for his life--but that he might not be able to -transmit to the _Dekka_ the ghastly solution of their problem. He kept -forcing his legs, and was amazed when a draft of pure, frigid air smote -his feverish face. He found himself by the shores of Ganymede's one -and only shallow sea. Above him the stars were like freshly washed -diamonds; the icy harshness of the wind was like a tonic. - -He saw a tiny light describe a parabola overhead, and to his mind, -inconsequentially came the lines from a famous poem: - - "_And an errant star falls rapt and free, - In the blue cup of the sea...._" - -And then Julian realized it was no star. He followed with a vast -unbelieving wonder, the tiny light winking on and off. _He knew that -code!_ Beyond he saw the tremendous looming shadows he had thought -to be clouds. For an instant, Time stood still. Julian reeled with a -surging wave of relief that was like pain in its intensity. Frantically -he worked the wrist transmitter on his useless left arm, while waves -of nausea rolled over him, receded and rolled again. He would never -know how long he stood there, sending that long-repeated, incoherent -message, until his mind spinning down the labyrinth of unconsciousness -brought peace.... - - * * * * * - -It was a universe later. The blessed peace of _Vanadol_ had vanished -pain. Sulfalixir was cutting through the darkness in his brain like a -bright sun. Julian opened his eyes and stared ... stared into a face -that reminded him of tele-photos that preserved archaic illustrations -of ancient Saints. It was hallowed in the bright patina of silver hair, -but it was no Mutant, a virile aura of power shone in those intensely -blue eyes. - -The "Saint" smiled; the fact was illumined as if with an inner light. -"Peace, Varon! There's no need to speak for we have the information. -You gave it to us--piece-meal--I must say." He smiled with kindly -humor. "But you gave it. We have synchronized and correlated what you -told us in the transmitter before you went to the Paradisiac, and your -later message from the shore." - -"_That voice ... that voice!_" The thought blotted out all else in -Julian's mind. It could not be, it was incredible, and yet, no one -else in his experience had just that tonal quality ... those ironic -overtones.... - -"You probably wondered," the "Saint" was speaking again, "when you saw -our signal, how the Dekkan fleet could be above Ganymede unchallenged. -Look!" He activated a telesolidograph standing by the side of Julian's -bed. - -"Every inhabited Moon has its fleet here tonight, my son. When we -flashed them the news you gave us of the laboratory where the _Plague_ -germs were kept, and of the incredible plan of the Dynasts--the -Mutants, they came on at full power. Enough to blast Ganymede out of -its orbit! The plan was the most fiendish, the most ingenious weapon of -war ever conceived! You must have guessed it of course ... for fifty -years they infected our people in slowly increasing numbers, until at -last they let loose the Plague." - -"Narda ...." Julian began as memory agonizingly came back. - -"That is the name you kept repeating with every other word in your -delirium," the stranger smiled. "A Techno-Star, as we found out. She of -course, will be one of the very first to be given the antidote, Varon." - -"Antidote...." Julian's voice was opaque with wonder, it was as if his -heart had lurched in his chest. - -"You brought it," the silver-haired stranger replied. "In the -_Panagran_ vial you took from the Arch-Mutant. Our scientists -are already reproducing it. It acts both as an immunizer and an -antidote. The Mutants had to develop it as a safeguard for the native -Ganymedeans. It was the only way they could be assured of even their -reluctant loyalty. And the Mutants didn't dare war against the -Ganymedeans--they still possess ancient weapons that the Dynasty -could not cope with. I wish we could obtain some of them," he sighed -wistfully. "What a strangely stubborn race...." - -But Julian was scarcely listening, an upsurging volcano of hope had -set his whole being afire with the immortal, singing flame. Narda ... -himself!... He closed his eyes against the tremendous psychic strain. - -"Once more open war has been averted by a hair's breadth--I'm a little -bit sorry, in a way, _Serenity_." - -Julian opened his eyes startled. "Serenity? You mean '_Control-Facet_.' -You _are_ Astran, aren't you?" - -"Of course, my son! _Don't try to tell me what I mean!_" He smiled -with feral delight, then: "We're going to bomb the temple to its -foundations--a mere token, of course. I shall have you carried to the -observation tower.... It will be a welcome sight. Will you do us the -honor of directing the routine, _Serenity_?" - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silver Plague, by Albert dePina - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER PLAGUE *** - -***** This file should be named 63524.txt or 63524.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/2/63524/ - -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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