E.C Tubb
The Coming Event
CHAPTER ONE
Buried deep beneath the scarred surface of a lonely world the cavern held the awesome grandeur of a legendary tomb- a tremendous mausoleum buttressed by massive columns which formed an adamantine protection for the soaring tiers of featureless ovoids within their embrace, though it was even now being despoiled by men and machines.
To Master Elge, Cyber Prime, the fabrication was the reverse of a tomb, the ovoids far from being coffins, but the desecration was real, and he watched as units were freed from their housings and swung down into the arms of waiting cradles to be wheeled silently away.
And each ovoid held a living, thinking brain.
This was the reward for which cybers dedicated their lives. They worked until they grew physically inefficient then were stripped of hampering flesh, their brains removed from their skulls and placed in containers, sealed from harm while fed with nutrients, at last hooked into series with others of their own kind to form a part of the tremendous complex which was the heart and power of the Cyclan.
But now Central Intelligence was threatened and with it the security of the whole.
"Twelve dozen units," said Jarvet from where he stood at Elge's side. "The entire section. As you instructed, Master."
And how many before them? Elge knew the exact number but even one would have been too many. "Results?"
"As yet totally negative."
"Numbers tested?"
"Eighteen selected at random." That was more than enough for a representative sample. The aide added, "I ordered a halt at twenty for your decision."
The aide could anticipate what the decision would be, Elge knew, but as his was the final responsibility his must be the deciding voice.
He turned, tall, thin, the scarlet robe shielding the taut lines of his body, maintained at optimum efficiency and carrying no surplus fat. To Elge as to all cybers food was to be used as fuel, eaten from necessity not pleasure. Training and an operation performed at puberty on the cortex had rid them of the capacity for emotion.
Jarvet fell into step behind him as Elge moved to a passage where a moving way carried them to a laboratory in which technicians worked over the freed ovoids. Many lay open to reveal their contents and Elge looked dispassionately at the convoluted brains rested beneath transparent covers amid their attendant mechanisms. Components designed never to fail. And they had not failed-the fault lay within the brains themselves.
But the fault was yet to be determined.
"Nothing, Master." Icelus gave his report. "No trace of any foreign bacteria or virus. No radiation-scarring or isotopic accumulation. No discernible tissue decay. No aggravated pressure zones. The Homochon elements are enlarged but only within anticipated parameters. No change in the cortex. Nothing can be discerned in the physical condition which could account for the aberration." He added, "The conclusions are as before."
At that time units had been sterilized with flame and reduced to their component atoms for fear of contamination, and examinations had been conducted in isolated areas by technicians who still remained isolated on distant worlds. Entire banks of machinery had been volatilized-Elge knew the details.
"Is there any traceable pattern?"
"No. The brains are old and that is the only thing we can be sure of."
"Any correlations?"
"None." Icelus was definite. "The thing seems to strike at random. These units are younger than the last yet older than the ones before. There is no similarity as to location or apparent vulnerability. These are from Bank 8 Tier 5. Those before came from Bank 3 Tier 9."
Different caverns and different positions-diversifying the units was an elementary precaution against total loss by unforeseen damage. Yet even that had provided no defense. The aberration must, somehow, be inherent. But what?
"Your orders, Master?" Icelus was waiting. "Shall I continue with the examinations?"
How often must he go over the same ground? There was a point beyond which any further effort would be worse than useless-efficiency demanded the full utilization of each and every facility and the technicians had other work.
Elge said, "Terminate."
"All, Master?"
"All." Every brain to be thrown into a furnace to be consumed by fire, the components dissolved into basic elements, the residue to be blasted deep into space. To Jarvet he said, "Order an assembly. I will meet the Council in an hour."
They sat at a long table, the warm hue of their robes the only touch of color in the bleakness of the chamber. Dekel was the first to speak, as Elge had predicted, but the mental achievement gave him little pleasure. The man was old, patterns established; the merest tyro could have done as well.
"This matter concerns Central Intelligence?"
"Yes."
"You have fresh information?" Boule was swift in his attack. "There is nothing to be gained by discussing what we already have covered."
Like Dekel and the rest, he was old, but that was to be expected-men did not achieve power without the passage of time. But age was relative and small signs betrayed when the fine edge had been crossed; the delicate balance between optimum efficiency and the insidious decline toward senility. Signs watched for by all as they all watched Elge. He with the highest office must demonstrate his ability to hold it.
From where he sat Theme said, "From my study of recent information I arrive at the conclusion that nothing new can be learned of the degeneration of the units by further examinations."
"Agreed. That is why I ordered a termination of all such activity." Elge continued, "There is no need to detail the negative findings. They are as before. Nor is there need to discuss extrapolations of probable consequences should the aberrations continue. The prediction of internal collapse based on an exponential curve leads to near-certain disaster."
This seemed so obvious as to need no comment.
Alder said, "Why have we been summoned?"
"To review the situation. Later I shall want from each of you detailed plans of optimum survival based on all possible contingencies. Now I wish to cover the base problem. From a summation of all findings relevant to the affected units it is logical to accept the premise that there is no mechanical or biological cause for the derangements. The brains involved failed because of some inherent fault other than external cause. Agreed?"
Boule demurred. "That need not necessarily be the case. Because we cannot find a cause does not mean that one does not exist."
"True, but all precautions have been taken as regards shielding and monitoring." Elge was curt. "I submit the fault could lie in the region of the psyche. To illustrate the point I have arranged for a demonstration." A communicator stood on the table before him. Activating the instrument he said, "Now."
Abruptly the room turned black.
It was the complete elimination of all light and for a moment they felt as if blinded and buried deep in a tomb, shielded for eons from the sun. Then, slowly, light came and with it an image.
It floated above the table; a three-dimensional hologram depicting a male, nude, set with wires which sprouted from his skull like the tendrils of some strange and oddly designed creature. The eyes were closed, sunken beneath prominent brows, the ears padded. Mouth and nose were covered by a mask and the medium in which he floated was not air or space.
"Water warmed and maintained at his individual body heat." The accompanying voice whispered through the chamber. "All senses have been blocked or negated so as to deny the intelligence any external stimuli. The electrodes on the skull relay the encephalic readings of the cortex."
Another picture joined the first; a depiction of wavering lines traced by delicate points. The wave pattern of the subject's brain, which all could read.
"Total disorientation was achieved in a remarkably short space of time," continued the voice. "Hallucinations followed leading to a complete catatonic withdrawal. Note the zeta and lunbda lines." A pause, then, "Three hours later." A flick and the figure could be seen with knees drawn up to its chin, arms wrapped around the knees. "The classic fetal position. Twelve hours later when removed from the tank."