Query: Which horses? Which democratic rights?
Avery was delighted by ‘Uncle’s’ evident confusion. The ones you might ride away on, and free speech for all.
Barbara was first down the ladder. She held it at the bottom while Mary helped Tom on to the top rung. Despite his heavy fall of the previous day, and apart from the fact that the wound in his back had bled a little, he was really recovering far better than anyone had expected. So was Mary. She still looked pale and tired, but that was all.
Tom came gingerly down the ladder and reached the bottom without mishap. Mary followed him.
With Barbara, they joined Avery and stood in front of the machine, marvelling.
‘We could always crown it with a large boulder,’ suggested Tom at length.
Avery grinned. ‘An excellent idea—provided you don’t ever want to go back to Earth.’
‘What!’
‘It just asked me whether we’d like to return—quote—to our natural habitat.’
‘Natural habitat!’ snorted Tom. ‘I’d just like to be in the natural habitat of the character at the other end of this little gadget.’
The machine came to life again. Since the experiment has been concluded successfully, the question of the rehabilitation of all participants now arises.
‘Let me get at it! ’ exploded Barbara. She began to hit the keys savagely. You mean the rehabilitation of all survivors, Uncle. What about the golden people that were killed? What about the baby that died? Rehabilitate them if you can.
Casualties are greatly regretted, came the answer. But in an experiment of this nature, some hazard must be accepted. Perhaps there is justification in the fact that the issue involved is great.
What was the nature of the experiment? tapped Avery.
The response came immediately: Culture dynamics.
Mary looked at the printed roll. ‘Ask him,’ she said, with a touch of bitterness, ‘what the marvellous issue was…. I don’t suppose that will make any sense either.’
Avery tapped out of the message, and again the answer came as soon as he had finished.
The issue involved is the ultimate domination of the second stellar rim sector in the second linear quadrant of the galaxy.
‘Shit and derision! ’ snapped Tom. ‘This thing is taking the mickey out of us with a load of gobbledygook. Here, let me have a go.’
He tapped out: Now cut the crap and get down to something a man can understand. How the hell did you get us here? Where are we, anyway? Whafs it all about? And finally, if you’ve got enough bloody decency— which I doubt—to be intelligible, what do you propose to do about repatriation?
‘There,’ he said, when he’d finished. ‘That ought to silence the bastard.’
But it didn’t. The machine began to click busily.
In the order of the questions given, the answers are as follows, it printed.
At the collection area, each of you discovered a crystal which produced the apparent effect of unconsciousness. In fact, you were not rendered unconscious in the sense of being immobile and helpless. However, the effect of the crystal was to anaesthetize your memory, while at the same time allowing remote control to be exercised over your actions. This, of course, involved a temporary suspension of freedom of thought, which was unavoidable. Each of you, operating under control, picked the crystal up and retained it. To accommodate you by explaining the matter in crudely simple terms, it is possible to say that each crystal acted as a kind of psychic radio which allowed the transmission of direct instructions to you. You, yourselves, apparently operating as free agents, obtained the equipment for the journey. As instructed, you then travelled to a rendezvous where it was convenient for you to be taken aboard a transport vessel at a time when it was unlikely that the operation would be observed by others of your species. In fact, the rendezvous took place within forty terrestrial hours of control being established.
‘Stop me! ’ said Tom helplessly. Seeing the look on his face, Avery wanted to laugh, but he was afraid that the laughter might become hysterical.
The machine continued.
Your present location is an island on the fourth planet of the star known to terrestrial observers as Achernar. It is about seventy terrestrial light-years from your own sun.
After a momentary pause, the machine went on once more.
In that section of the galaxy which can only be described to you as the rim sector of the second linear quadrant, there are two intelligent races at present on the threshold of space flight. To one of them must fall the ultimate responsibility for control of that area. Your own race and that of what you call the golden people are the two concerned. It was the object of the experiment—by assembling representative components of each culture pattern in a neutral background and under conditions of stress—to determine which of the races possessed the most useful psychological characteristics. This has now been established. Certain techniques—analagous to your system of radar, telephotography and parabolic sound detectors—have made it possible for you, the subjects, to remain under careful observation. The results of the experiment are conclusive.
‘This,’ said Mary quietly, ‘beats the band.’ She looked at her companions helplessly.
The machine went on.
All surviving subjects of the experiment are given the choice of returning to their planet of origin, or remaining on Achemar Four. This planet does not possess an indigenous race of intelligent beings. It is therefore available for development. However, any subject who wishes to return to his or her planet of origin can be so transported at speed. For various reasons, one of which is the mental health of the subject, it will be necessary to implant an amnesia block in those who wish to return. Remembering nothing of the experiment, they will not be subject to retroactive emotional stress. On return financial compensation and temporary therapeutic care can be arranged. Your decisions are awaited.
There was silence.
Avery and Barbara, Tom and Mary looked at each other. Bewilderment was on every face. Bewilderment and tension.
It was possible to go back to Earth! The knowledge hammered like an incessant drumbeat in Avery’s brain. He thought about London. For so long it had been vague and cloudy; but the possibility of return somehow brought the city into sharp focus, presented it to his inward eye as a series of magic lantern slides…. Kensington Gardens, Piccadilly Circus, theatres, shops, people, the Underground, Big Ben, the Embankment, the Bayswater Road—
He saw them all. He could hear the traffic, the street musicians, the starlings in Whitehall and Trafalgar Square. Big Ben struck; and he could smell the scent of roasting chestnuts, of crowded restaurants, of late roses in a flower seller’s basket.
He could see and smell—he could almost touch. And suddenly he felt a shock that seemed physical in its impact. He didn’t want London. He knew he didn’t want any of it. For London meant forgetting. London meant the loss of what had grown between him and Barbara And Tom And Mary London meant gaining so little, and losing so much.
He looked at the others and knew that they, too, did not want to surrender the memories of all that had happened to bind them close. On Earth they had all been lonely people. Here, seventy light-years from Piccadilly Circus, they were no longer alone.
But there was another reason for not going back—a reason that was as yet only half-formed in their minds. Here, there was a chance to create. A chance to start from nothing, with only their hands and their hopes. A chance to make something new…. A hell of a chance! But one, thought Avery, that was worth taking.