Bard Lane felt the excitement in Raul Kinson’s thoughts. “A long time ago. Three of your years. Possibly more. I found books printed on thin metallic plates. They did not mean anything to me. Long bi-colored numbers. They were awkward to read compared with the micro-books. I remember the cover design — a stylized pattern of a star and planet system.”
“That could be what you need. But let me make one thing clear. If I’m correct about the controls, and if you should use the wrong setting, you will, in all probability, never be able to find either Earth or your home planet again. You could spend forty lifetimes searching, with the same chance of finding either as of finding two specific motes of dust in the atmosphere of this planet. Make certain that you are quite willing to take the risk.”
Leesa said softly, “Quite willing, Bard.”
“Then find these books again. Study the numbers. See if they will fit the dials. See if you can determine our index number beyond doubt. And then contact me again.”
Pressure on his mind faded quickly. Before it was entirely gone, Bard caught the faint thought: “This dream is ending.”
The two of them were alone in the room. Sharan said softly, “Can he do it? Can he come here?”
He stood up and walked over to the windows. Across the street a couple walked hand in hand under the lights. A line had formed, waiting to get into the video studio.
“What is she like? What are her thoughts like?”
“Like a woman’s.”
“When will they be back?”
“Midnight tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.”
Ten of the older men were gathered in Jord Orlan’s quarters. They sat stiffly and their eyes glowed. It had taken a long time for Jord Orlan to slowly bring them up to the proper pitch.
“Our world is good,” he chanted.
“Our world is good,” they responded in unison, the half-forgotten instincts rising up within them, hoarsening voices.
“The dreams are good.”
“The dreams are good.”
“And we are the Watchers and we know the Law.”
“Yes, we know the Law.”
Orlan held his arms straight out, his fists clenched. “And they would put an end to the dreams.”
“... an end to the dreams.” The words had a sad sound.
“But they will be stopped. The two of them. The black-haired ones who are strange.”
“They will be stopped.”
“I have tried, my brothers, to show them the errors of their ways. I have tried to lead them into the ways of Truth. But they claim the three worlds are reality.”
“Orlan has tried.”
“I am not a vindictive man. I am a just man. I know the Law and the Truth. They have gone out into the nothingness, out into the emptiness that surrounds us, to look for the worlds of which we dream. Death will be a kindness.”
“A kindness.”
“Seek them out, my brothers. Put them in the tube of death. Let them slide down into the darkness and fall forever through the blackness. I have tried and I have failed. There is nothing else we can do.”
“Nothing else.”
They moved slowly toward the door, then faster. Faster. Jord Orlan stood and heard the pad of their feet against the warm floor, the growling in their throats. And they were gone. He sat down heavily. He was very tired. And he did not know if he had done the right thing. It was too late for doubts. And yet... He frowned. There was a basic flaw in the entire thought process. If outside was a nothingness, how could the two of them go outside and return? To have them do so would indicate that the nothingness was a “somethingness.” And if that were true, then Raul Kinson’s fanatic beliefs had to be given certain credence.
But once Raul Kinson was credited with any correctness, the entire structure of his own beliefs faded and dimmed. Jord Orlan’s head hurt. It was a sad thing to have lived so long in perfect comfort with one’s thoughts and then to have this tiny bitter arrow of doubt festering in his soul. He yearned to pluck it out. Possibly the spy had been mistaken. Possibly they did not go out into the nothingness.
He found himself descending toward the lowest level in great haste. He found the door. It did not take him long to remember the secrets of the twin wheels. He pulled the door open. And this time he dared to keep his eyes open. The wind whipped his cheeks. He squinted into it. The six ships stood tall against the huge red sun. Sand drifted in at his feet. He picked up a handful of it. He closed the door against the wind and leaned his forehead against the metal. He did not move for a long time. He turned and hurried back the way he had come.
Six of them were holding Raul. Raul’s face was twisted with fury and, above the grunting of the captors, Jord Orlan heard the popping and crackling of Raul’s shoulder muscles as he struggled, sometimes lifting his captors off their feet. Four of them were having an equally difficult time with the girl. They held her horizontally, two at her feet and two at her head. Her robe had been flung aside. As Jord Orlan neared them, they rushed with her toward the tube, toward the black oval mouth of it. But she twisted one foot free, planted it against the wall near the mouth of the tube and thrust with all her strength. They staggered and fell with her.
“Stop!” Orlan shouted.
“No!” the captors cried.
“Do you want their death to be easy? The tube is an easy death. Their sin is enormous. They should be thrust out into the emptiness outside to die there.”
He saw doubt on their faces. “I order it!” he said firmly.
And, with Orlan leading, with the two captives no longer struggling, clad once more in robe and toga, the procession left the silent bystanders and went down to the door.
Orlan stopped the captors at the angle in the corridor. “Let them go on to the doorway alone. I shall go with them. If you look on nothingness it will forever blast your eyes and your mind. I will rejoin you when they have left.”
They felt fear and anger, but fear was the stronger. They waited out of sight. Jord Orlan walked with Raul and Leesa.
He said, in a low tone, “I saw the odd garments. You need them to venture outside.”
“What are you trying to tell us?” Raul demanded.
“That... there are things in our world that I do not understand. And before I die, I want to understand... everything. I did not believe the ships were there until I saw them with my own eyes. Now I share your sin. My belief has grown weak. If you could reach another world, then...” He turned away. “Please hurry.”
“Come with us,” Leesa said.
“No. I’m needed here. If your heresies turn out to be true, my people will need someone to explain it to them. My place is here.”
They left and he closed the door, retaining for a moment the image of the two figures leaning against the wind, the six ships in the background. He went back to those who waited and told them very calmly that it was all over.
Fourteen
The light plates set into the control room walls made a soft glow. Air came through the tiny grills in a sound like an endless sigh.
The entire control room was mounted on a shining piston that went straight down through the heart of the ship. The partitioned space along one wall, forty feet by ten, held the row of beds. Beyond the opposite partition were food stores, water tanks, sanitary equipment.
Leesa lay on the bunk and he folded the web straps across her body, drawing them tight. The last strap circled her forehead.
She looked up into his eyes. “Are we really ready?”
“We have to be. And I’ll make a confession. If all this hadn’t happened, I was going to try it alone, without you.”