'Renark - you have more problems,' Asquiol said, fiddling with his gloves.
'And more coming, from what I've learned,' Renark said tiredly. 'What did you find out?'
'Not much of anything definite. The eleven planets are called a variety of names by a variety of human and non-human people. There are a million theories about the Shifter's nature, mainly based on folklore and superstition. They say the Thron were here first and might be native to the system. This could explain some of their resentment of alien ships entering.'
'Anything else?'
'There's some race called, colloquially, the "jelly-smellies", who are supposed to know the history of the multiverse. There's a planet called Ragged Ruth which is supposed to be the epitome of Hell in this hellish system.'
'That seems to confirm what Mary told me,' he nodded.
Talfryn came in. His body was loose, worn out. He sat down on the couch.
Renark paused for a moment.
'There are questions which we've got to answer. And we can't take our time getting those answers.
'Why does the Shifter follow this orbit? How does it do it? If we can discover the principle, there may be a chance of adapting it to build ships to evacuate our galaxy. The logic - if that's the word - is abhorrent to us, but it must be mastered. Are all the universes contracting at the same time, I wonder?'
He asked this last question almost hesitantly, bringing it into the open for the first time.
'If so, there is virtually no chance of evacuation. On the other hand, what we discover may enable us to…'
Klein laughed: 'To stop a universe in its natural course of decay or reorganisation? No, Renark!'
'Yes, Klein - if that has to be done!'
'What the hell are we all talking about?' Talfryn said tiredly from the couch. 'We're only three men - against the natural universe. Not to mention the unnatural universe - this terrible place.'
He shook his head. 'Frankly, the little information I've picked up makes me feel helpless, useless, ineffectual in the face of what's happening. I feel ready to give up, not to fight against something that is, judging by all the facts, an immense and inescapable movement of the forces of nature which must logically result in the end of the human race - of all organic life both in our universe, and in others. The human race has had its day - we might as well face it. If you can answer that, Renark, I'd be grateful…'
Suddenly, Renark didn't want Talfryn with him any more.
'I doubt if I could give you an answer which would satisfy you,' he said sadly. 'You're fatalistic. And a fatalist, if you'll forgive me, is also a misanthropist.
'The quality which humanity has, unlike any other form of life in our universe, is its power to control nature. It is the mark of homo sapiens that he has, for millennia, refused to let his environment control him to any real extent. He has adapted to it, adapted it, conquered it. This imminent disaster facing the race is on a larger scale - but the rule still applies. In this case we may be forced to leave our environment and start to work adapting to, and controlling, a new one. If Man can do that, he will have proved forever his right and his reason for existence!'
Talfryn, taken aback by the force of Renark's reply, couldn't answer. He shook his head again and remained broodingly silent. Renark had sensed the man's weakness like a mechanic senses that a piece of equipment, driven beyond its inherent endurance, is due to fail.
So he said: 'Then you'd better stay here.'
Talfryn nodded. 'I've failed you, Renark. But, honestly, it's too big - far too big. Some of us can be optimistic for just so long. But facts must be faced.'
'Facts can be altered,' Renark said, turning away.
'You're giving up?' Asquiol blinked. 'Why?'
'I'm a creature of circumstance,' said Talfryn with a bitter half-smile. He got up and left the room.
Asquiol turned to Renark.
'Why has he done that? Is there something I don't know about?'
'Let's hope so,' Renark said quietly.
He watched his friend who, disturbed and disorientated, turned to look for a long moment at Willow.
Her eyes began to fill with tears.
'I couldn't face it,' she said. 'Not any more - not after what we just went through…'
'You've stopped loving me, is that it?'
'Oh, no, Asquiol - I'll always love you. You… you could stay here with me.'
Asquiol looked sharply at Renark.
'We go to Thron,' he said.
'If you wish to come.'
'Look after yourself, Willow,' said Asquiol. 'I may return - who knows?' And he walked away from her.
He and Renark left the room, left the building and the city and made for the pads, for their black ship, bound for horror and perhaps death.
'He was a fool,' said Willow calmly to Klein. 'There are many who refuse their responsibilities. Fooling themselves they search for a 'higher ideal.' He was a fool.'
'What are responsibilities?' said Klein laconically. 'He knows. Responsibility, my dear, is another word for self-survival.'
She looked at Klein uncomprehendingly.
'I wish he had stayed,' she said.
FIVE
Renark flung over the ship's master-switch, bringing the whole complicated vessel to life.
He could not be satisfied with thoughts and theories now. He wanted decisive and constant action - dynamic action which would bring him to a source that would answer the questions crowding his mind.
As he charted his course to Thron, he remembered something and turned to Asquiol sitting moodily in the gunnery seat, staring at his instruments.
'Did you ever know of Mary the Maze before you came here?' he asked.
Silently Asquiol shook his head.
Renark shrugged. He felt badly for his friend, but couldn't afford to let his personal emotions influence his chosen course of action.
From what he had gathered, fewer laws than ever applied in the interplanetary space of the Shifter than on the planets themselves. Therefore he was going to have difficulty in simply navigating the comparatively small area of space between them and Thron.
He said without turning, 'Once in space I must not be disturbed, and am relying on you to perform all necessary functions other than the actual piloting of the spaceship. I have to anchor my mind to Thron, and must steer the ship through altering dimensions as well as space and time. Therefor, in the event of attack you must be ready, must meet it as best you can. But I will not be able to afford to know. Do you understand?'
'Let's get started, for God's sake,' he said impatiently.
'And don't be too ready with those anti-neutron cannon,' he said as he pressed the take-off button.
The ship throbbed spacewards.
And then they hit horror!
Chaos
It had no business to exist. It defied every instinctively accepted law that Renark knew.
Turmoil
It was fantastically beautiful. But, as far as he was concerned, it had to be ignored, mastered or destroyed, because it was wrong, evil - unlawful.
Agony
The ship coursed through the myriad, multi-dimensional currents that swirled and whirled and howled about it, that rent the sanity of the two brave men who battered at it, cursed it and, in controlling themselves, managed somehow to stave off the worst effects.
Terror
They had no business to exist here. They knew it, but they refused to compromise. They made the disorder of the tiny universe bend to their courage, to their strength and the wills, creating a pocket of order in the screaming wrongness of unchained creation.
Temptation
They had nothing but their pitiful knowledge that they were human beings - intelligent, reasoning beings capable of transcending the limits which the universe had striven to set upon them. They refused; they fought, they used their minds as they had never used them, found reserves of reason where none had previously been.