The woman paused, questioningly.
The others. Where are the others who came with me?
A wave of fear, faint but unmistakable. Something became guarded in the woman’s eyes. They are safe. They are sleeping.
Then wake them up.
Never! Sharp fear flared in her eyes. No, no, they must remain asleep.
I don’t believe you. I don’t think they’re here. Lars watched their faces closely, groped with his mind to catch their response. I think you’ve killed them.
No, no! We could never have done that. The Masters would be angry.
Then take me to them. Show me. Prove that they’re still alive.
There was a sound in the door, and Lars saw Peter standing there, watching, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“I told them we want to see the others,” Lars snapped. He turned back to the woman. Take both of us. Both of us want to see.
The City-people stood transfixed, fear strong in both their minds. Then Lars sensed the shadow of a sigh, a breath of
resignation, as the man made a weary gesture with his hands. AU right. We will show you. Come.
They were afraid. They tried to shield their fear, but Lars could feel it, like an ugly gray blanket, wrapping their thoughts as they led the way down into the vault. They were afraid with an overwhelming, uncontrollable fear. Lars and Peter followed, white-faced, feeling an almost unbearable apprehension themselves as they moved through corridors and down darkened stairways.
“Can you feel it?” Lars whispered as they walked.
“It’s about to knock me over,” Peter whispered back. “They’re practically paralyzed with fear.”
“But why should they be? If they have nothing to hide, I mean.”
“I don’t think that’s the thing at all.”
Something caught in Lars’ mind, and he looked sharply at Peter. “How did you know what I was doing when I asked to come down here? I didn’t make a sound.”
“I know. I—felt it. I couldn’t tell what, exactly, but I knew you’d hit them with something.”
They finally reached a long, darkened room, far down in the depths of the city. Along both walls of the vault were pallets, floating off the floor. On each pallet was a sleeping man. Lars stared at the figures.. Suddenly he felt very cold. They were breathing slowly; some were muttering in their sleep. Occasionally one moved an arm or a leg. Down the right hand side he could see John Lambert, snoring gently. Commander Fox slept beside him. On the far side was Jeff Salter.
You see? All sleeping. All safe. Lars caught the woman’s thought, but he also felt the wave of fear emanating from her mind, twisting into his thoughts like an icy finger. Then she turned sharply, almost out of control, and led them upstairs into the cool, pleasant corridor above.
Lars was not sorry to leave the darkened vault. It had been a ghastly sight, but the men were there, alive, sleeping. Why have you done this? Lars thought sharply. Why are you so afraid of them?
But don’t you see? They would destroy us. The Masters warned us.
Who are these Masters?
The woman blinked at him, not comprehending. The Masters are the Masters. Who else?
Are they here? In the city?
Oh, no. They left long ago. They have never returned. But when the time is right—
Lars caught the flush of excitement in Peter’s eyes. But the Masters left you orders you have to obey. Is that right?
Orders? Obey? The Masters knew what was right. Why should we need orders to obey? The woman’s confusion was growing. Surely you understand, it was the Masters who fed us and taught us. We only do as they wish.
And then Lars saw the question that had to be answered. He looked straight at the woman and put all his power into the query: What were you before the Masters came?
For the barest instant Lars felt her fear, the shadow of doubt flitting through her mind, as though he had torn open a door that had long been closed, arousing some timeless, shapeless fear. But then the door closed again, leaving only puzzlement and confusion. You must go back. You must not come here again.
Why not? What were you before the Masters came?
Later, he saw what he couldn’t see just then. “She couldn’t answer the question because she didn’t understand it,” he told Peter, back in their room. “Whatever the Masters were, they obviously blocked out whole chunks of these people’s minds.”
“But why?” said Peter.
“We may learn that when we learn what the Masters were. But I don’t think the City-people are going to tell us. I don’t think they know themselves!” .
It was Peter who finally broke the deadlock, though in quite a different way than he imagined.
Day had followed day among the City-people of Wolf IV with no appreciable change. Every day both Lars and Peter had two and even three sessions with their tutors, and still they seemed to come no closer to the answers they sought than before. If anything the City-people and their reasons for singling out the two youngest crewmen for attention became more imponderable than ever as the boys saw more of the workings of the city.
They did learn bits and snatches. They learned that death was all but unknown in the city. There were people of all ages there, old and young, but when a death did occur it was a source of city-wide mourning.
Furthermore, Lars was able to confirm his conclusion that he and Peter were allowed to remain awake, of all the crewmen, because of their age. But try as he would he could not discover why their age was considered so important. Even direct questions brought only confused replies. Why are you keeping us here? he asked the woman who was working with him, flashing the thought at her without warning. Why didn’t you put us to sleep, too?
She stared at him for a moment in amazement. Then: But we could not do that! The Masters would never allow it. You are like us, not like the others.
Lars had recounted the matter to Peter that evening as they lay in the darkness of their room. “These Masters!” Peter burst out. “Every time we get them in a corner, they bring in the Masters to settle the question as though they were the last possible authority! Have you noticed that? Every time!”
“I know. It’s a brick wall. We keep slamming head-on into it. We can’t seem to get over it and we can’t get under it.” Lars stared glumly at the ceiling. “I think they’re getting uneasy, too. My ‘lesson’ today didn’t go well. I still don’t know what they expect me to do, but I wasn’t doing it. The man was ready to walk out mad.”
“So you’ve noticed that too,” said Peter. “I don’t like it. You know what worries me? Suppose they decide that we can’t be taught whatever they’re trying to teach us? What then? Do we get put to sleep too?”
Lars shivered. “Hadn’t thought of that.”
Peter sat up on the edge of his bed. “I’ve thought of it plenty. I’ve also been thinking that there’s more than one way to get through a brick wall. If you can’t climb it, or dig under it, you can try smashing a hole in it.” He jumped up, rubbing his hands together, sat down again for a moment, then stood up and went to the window. “I tell you, we’ve got to do something besides sit here! I don’t care what, take a knife to one of them, or something, just to do something.”