Authors: A.E. van Vogt
What he said was, “I don’t understand what your predicament is. Earlier, I heard the statement that you people don’t know where you are. But the question to that has to be: in relation to what? Where are you from? And who are you?”
A pause. In speaking, he had turned to face the big man, presuming that, since the two of them were on the podium, any question and answer cycle would be between himself and Voice Four.
There was a pause. A pair of orange-yellowish eyes stared into his—color unknown; unless all the Gosseyn eyes were the same, in which case steely-gray was what Voice Four was seeing.
It was the orange-yellow gaze that narrowed abruptly. Whereupon, the hard, accustomed-to-command voice said, “We’ll do the questioning. What is your name?”
Gosseyn did not argue. It seemed to him that only the truth would evoke from these people the information that he wanted.
“My name is Gilbert Gosseyn,” he said.
“Where are you from?”
Essentially, said Gosseyn, “I am a human being from a sun called Sol, and from a planet, Earth, in that sun’s system.”
There seemed no point in volunteering that Gosseyn One and Gosseyn Two believed that Mankind of Earth apparently had come long ago from another galaxy.
“What were you doing in a state of suspended animation in a space capsule?”
Gosseyn took time for a deep breath. Undoubtedly, this was the big question. But since they already had significant data, Gosseyn said in the same even voice,
“I am a duplicate body scheduled to awaken if my Alter Ego is killed.”
“Has he been killed?”
Gosseyn did not hesitate. “As you should know only too well, I was awakened by the equipment of your ship. So now there are two of us; but we are far apart.”
“Is this a common technique for personality survival among the human beings who live on the planet Earth?”
“No, it is unique to myself and my predecessors.”
“Do you have any explanation for your special situation?”
“Not really. A few speculations on the part of my predecessor that would take a while to tell.”
“Very well.” The face staring at him was suddenly grim. “How would you explain the coincidence of a hundred and seventy-eight thousand warships of the Dzan empire suddenly, without warning, finding themselves in an unknown part of space, and in that space is a capsule with you in it in this unawakened state?” After a period of blankness, Gosseyn made the cortical-thalamic pause. He was thinking: I asked for it. It was information I wanted . . . And the trouble was that he had got more than he bargained for. He was aware of a vague analytical function in his mind adding up figures, among other items, including the possibility that on each of those warships were thousands of fighting men.
It was an event in space-time so colossal that, finally, it seemed to him only General Semantics could offer a conditional answer. With that thought, he said, carefully, “There is a possibility that at base the universe is a seeming, not a being; and that if, by any means, that seemingness is triggered, the nothingness momentarily asserts. During such a split-instant, distance has no meaning.”
It did not seem advisable to reveal that this was the frame within which—it was believed—the extra-brain of the Gilbert Gosseyns operated during 20-decimal similarity travel.
Even as Gosseyn had the cautionary thought, his eyes were watching the face of Four, as that face reflected the big man’s reaction. In that face Gosseyn could almost see the man evaluate the fantastic meaning. Consider each datum. Arrive, finally, at the enigma.
“Yes—” the tone was argumentative though not angry—“but what would be the connecting factor between that point in space where we were engaged in a major battle with the fleet of our mortal enemy, and this area in space where you were in that capsule?”
No question—thought Gosseyn after a pause . . . I’m getting more information than I bargained for. Because, battle. 178,000 Dzan battleships against a “mortal” enemy. The meaning was “major” on a level beyond the grasp of the human mind. It was an event in spacetime overshadowing even the great battle of the Sixth Decant between the colossal forces of Enro the Red and the League; which Gosseyn Two had managed to bring to a halt in his defeat of the Follower.
The implications brought a thought of equal vast meaning; and the words came almost automatically: “What do you think happened to your enemy at that moment? Is it possible that you were lucky enough to leave him and his fleet . . . back there?”
“Your concept of what is lucky,” came the immediate cold reply, “is not ours. Our disappearance from that battle means that our vast civilization . . . back there . . . now lies at the mercy of a hostile non-human culture. And it is our belief that you are in some way responsible for this disaster. So—”
As Voice Four paused, threateningly, there was an interruption. A young boy’s high, treble voice yelled from a source in the ceiling:
“Bring him up here! I want to see him! I’ll find out what happened! I’ll handle him!”
Complete surprise. And amazing what happened then. Out on the floor everybody stood up, and saluted. And remained standing. From beside Gosseyn, a suddenly breathless Voice Four said urgently, “Yes, your majesty! At once, your majesty!”
Unexpected development! . . . A boy king, with total power—
But Gosseyn did have a thought: What kind of power?
It was a golden room. That was Gosseyn’s first impression: decoration emphasizing the color of golden yellow. Plush gold floors, and gold-colored hangings on the walls. The walls themselves, where they showed through here and there, seemed to be silver gray.
He had a vague awareness of other colors, used as contrast. But there was no time to notice such additional details. Because, also, at the moment he was led into the room, he saw that at one end of the room was a small dais, and on it was a large gold-colored chair.
In that chair sat the boy-emperor.
Several dozen men in gleaming clothes were standing off to one side. And what made things difficult for Gosseyn as he entered was that the door he came through was directly across from this group of . . . courtiers?
So that he actually noticed them first. Whereupon, he had to turn his head to his right to see the small boy in the silver shining suit who sat on the golden throne chair.
It was obvious that the boy had already seen him and his escort. Because by the time Gosseyn became aware of him, the boy’s hand and arm were already raised. Instants later, he spoke in the same boyish voice that Gosseyn had heard, and with the same anger in it.
“We’ve been waiting!” the high-pitched treble voice said. “What kept you? Where have you been?”
Four had stopped respectfully. His face, seen from the side was tense with awareness of the unreasonable impatience in the question, and of the impossibility of explaining to a boy that it required time to cover distances. “We ran all the way, your majesty,” said Four.
Four added quickly, “After we got the prisoner started, that is. He resisted.”
It took several moments for Gosseyn to comprehend the perfection of that accusation. By speaking those final words, Four had skilfully absolved himself of blame. And had simultaneously placed the onus upon the one person who could probably not defend himself from the lie. And what was even more important, it was equally probable that, being already a prisoner, he was in no more danger than he had been, anyway.
The truth was that, back in the lecture room, as Four grabbed at his arm, Gosseyn had got the idea at once that there must be no delay. So, as he was shoved through the door at the rear of the podium, he willingly broke into a loping run.
The brief memory of those events was interrupted. “Bring him over here in front of me!” the yelling voice commanded. “I’ll show him!”
This time they merely walked. But another awareness was in Gosseyn’s brain. His extra-brain was in a state of stimulation. It was receiving an energy flow. Different. No such sensation had ever been perceived by the earlier Gosseyns, whose memory he shared.
It changed his purpose. He had intended to be neutral. Intended to await events. To suspend judgment and delay any decision for action of his own until he found out what made this boy dangerous to adults.
After all, human history on earth had numerous records of boys becoming heirs to thrones, and of grownups dealing skilfully with all the consequent problems.
This was different.
And, since he didn’t know exactly what the difference was, Gosseyn initiated the extra-brain mechanism for total awareness of the boy emperor’s body. It was a complete mental photograph of every molecule, atom, electron and particle.
The boy was speaking. “We’re going to get your secrets out of you. Every bit of information. How you did this to our ship. So start talking. And just so you know that I mean business I’ll burn you a little bit.”
Even afterwards, Gosseyn could not be quite sure what happened then. A fleeting awareness was there—later—that energy was building up in a metal rod in throne chair above the boy’s head, and that the energy came from the boy.
It was too fast for analysis. And his response, having been pre-set, was at a speed too great for visual, or auditory, or analytical awareness.
In that split instant his extra-brain similarized the body of the boy emperor onto the couch of the capsule on which, earlier, his own body had lain.
It was one of the two areas of the ship that he had “photographed” for future similarization escape purposes. And he chose it for the boy because it was a cushion, or mattress. And it would be more comfortable to arrive there than on the floor.
During the next few moments, inside the throne room, there took place a series of events.
The energized rod on the throne chair actually lit up, and a small flame leaped from it. The flame hit the ceiling with a sputtering sound.
Beside Gosseyn, Four made a startled sound. And to his left, and behind, there was a collective gasp that could only have come from the courtiers.
In front of all of them, the throne chair was visibly unoccupied. The boy emperor had disappeared.
At least a dozen seconds went by.
It was a distinct period of time. Each passing instant seemed almost palpable because there was, almost literally, no sound or movement. Yet he knew, of course, that there were other people in the room. And, although the term had no meaning in any extended sense, the
feeling
Gosseyn deduced as existing inside the skins of the young emperor’s retainers and followers, correlated with some variation of . . . dreadful pause!
Silence ended abruptly. Several people gasped.
For Gosseyn it had been a valuable few seconds. During that pause he had time to realize that he had better decide how he could guide these people to an awareness of what had happened—without being blamed.
It was purpose, but without a single thought, yet, of what his explanation might be.
At the moment, all he had was a limited recollection of what had happened. Standing there, he took the time to try to recall the details.
His extra-brain had detected a particle flow in those fractional instants when the flow began . . . before it gained the full force it would have a few millionths of a second later. Unexpected, definitely. But fortunately he had pre-set a 20-decimal similarity, as he realized how dangerous the imperial boy was.
All of those particles were diverted to the energy rod behind the boy. And the resultant momentary energy shine had actually made a crackling, hissing sound.
The unexpected, incredible reality was that here, in the boy, was something on the same order of magnitude as the Gilbert Gosseyn extra-brain. The young emperor had an equivalent equipment inside his head of an additional portion of brain matter. A special mass of cells that was not possessed by normal human beings.
Unfortunately, it was not merely a defensive mechanism. It operated by direct control of energy, which could be guided to a target. The boy’s stated intent had been to “burn” Gosseyn “a little bit.” The limitation implied some kind of moral consideration. Which further suggested that there had been an attempt somewhere in the boy’s early training to install restraint.
Clearly, this child did not automatically kill those who offended. He merely damaged them, and thus frightened them. It was all-powerful in its way; but not as totally mad as it had seemed, to begin with.
The implication: something could still be done.
It was high speed evaluation . . . that completed as Gosseyn grew aware that others were recovering from
their
shock—
Beside him, Four was straightening, turning. And Gosseyn, relieved, turned with him. In time to see Four bow in the direction of the courtiers, some of whom—Gosseyn now, belatedly, observed—were in uniform.
“Draydart Duart,” said Four, “will you take charge?”
There was a pause. And, evidently, everyone but Gosseyn knew who was being addressed. For, when movement came, it was one of the uniformed men who stepped out of the group, and walked towards where Four and Gosseyn waited. The other courtiers remained where they had been at the moment of Gosseyn’s entrance, and since.