The Unreasoning Mask (39 page)

 

There was the entrances to the horns. The piles beneath them were moving,
their individual parts rising toward the holes. Even as he watched, the
mountains disappeared. But more spheres, small and large, were forming.

 

 

"It's a trap!" Toyce said.

 

 

Ramstan did not bother to rebuke her. He was very shaken himself. He did
not think that the bolg had a mind. Therefore, it had not deliberately
waited until the vessels were within it. It was their misfortune not to
have entered much sooner. They had come in just before the bolg, acting
on whatever commands it obeyed, was moving its first loads to the tips
of the horns. The next loads would be deposited behind the first. That
would take a long time, but it might be too late for the ships to get out.
All the holes would be jammed with missiles.

 

 

He gave the order. Al-Buraq and its companion curved slowly around and
headed for the nearest hole. The maneuver did not take long since they
were going so slowly. But when the vessels entered the horn, the detectors
confirmed that the tip was no longer open. Their passage was blocked.

 

 

It was not necessary to announce what had happened. Every face on the bridge
said, dumbly, "What do we do now?"

 

 

The warhead-missiles could be sent against the pile. They would vaporize
some of it but not enough. The lasers could then set about drilling
a tunnel through the fused shell. But their power would give out long
before the work was done.

 

 

Even if they could get out, they would have left the bolg undamaged.
It would continue to stock its projectiles.

 

 

Shiyai said gently in his mother's voice, "We three can sit here until
the way is clear. We will not run out of food and water. But if we shared
with you, we would."

 

 

"And if we stay here until we starve to death, then you can come in and get
the glyfa," Ramstan said.

 

 

"That mind of yours! No, we did not plot this. The turn of events is as
much a surprise to us as to you. Well, almost. Having lived much longer
than you, we can figure out probabilities much better. We knew that this
might happen. Nevertheless, we took the chance. And lost."

 

 

"You won't die," Ramstan said.

 

 

"Our will to live may end before our bodies do. It has been a long time,
a time unimaginably long to you."

 

 

"And unendurable to me," Ramstan said. "Somehow, somewhere in me, I knew
that it would happen this way."

 

 

"Perhaps that is because you wanted it that way."

 

 

Again, he thought of the possibility that he might have been drawn into
the glyfa some time ago and now was playing out his own fantasy. It was
not likely. But, by Allah, if it were true, he was at least governing
his own life, even if it was a fantasy. The glyfa could never think of
a scenario like this.

 

 

"I'm not unhappy about it. Not for me. But the others . . ."

 

 

"That spinning ball in the center," Shiyai said. "Your detectors bounce
off it as if it were some solid matter and give readings indicating that
it is. But it's not. It's an energy configuration."

 

 

Ramstan was silent for a moment. Those around him were looking strangely
at him. Was it because his lips were moving? He had explained to them
that, when he subvocalized, he was talking to the Vwoordha or the glyfa.
No. They were wondering what he would do to get them out of this trap.

 

 

"Our instruments couldn't detect that. How do you know?"

 

 

"Do you think that because our house isn't fitted with all those flashing
lights and screens and knobs and dials that we don't have a science and
technology far beyond yours?"

 

 

"No, I don't think that. But since you do have all that, why would you need
my . . . our help?"

 

 

"Because we are very, very, very old. Though we've gained much,
we've lost much. There are things you can do that we can't because
you are young. I'm not talking about strength of mind or muscle. I'm
talking about spirit. The spirit grows old with or without the body,
Ramstan. Never mind that. What now?"

 

 

"I'll try to disrupt the energy configuration of the central globe with
the same means I would have tried if it had been matter."

 

 

"That might do it. Still . . ."

 

 

"I know," he said.

 

 

He spoke to the people in al-Buraq then, knowing that the glyfa and the
Vwoordha were listening in. He also knew that there was another, someone
deep inside him, the dumb thing which spoke sometimes more loudly and
forcefully than he.

 

 

There was a long silence after he had finished.

 

 

Finally, Tenno said, "It's a hell of a choice."

 

 

"Most are."

 

 

"Then, regardless of what we decide to do, you have decided on the one
. . . path?"

 

 

"What I'm going to do is far easier than what you will do. I know what's
going to happen to me. I know the end. You don't. Not yet, anyway."

 

 

Shiyai said, "We can take three. They'll be safe from the radiation.
Once the bolg has spent its supply of missiles, we can escape. What the
three want to do after we get out is up to them. We can drop them off
anywhere in this universe. But they'll never see Earth again."

 

 

"They may prefer the glyfa," Ramstan said, "though I don't know that it
will take them or any of us. It hasn't said."

 

 

"I will take all," his mother's voice said. "All. I'd like to receive you,
too."

 

 

"No."

 

 

"Very well. I'll tell you just how it is done."

 

 

Ramstan repeated the words of the voice in his mind so that all ship's
crew would understand. When he was finished, he said, "The glyfa says
that you will have a fine life, far better than you could get on Earth,
while in it. I don't agree with that. If you gain something, you lose
something. But that's up to you. Anyway, some time, maybe in the next
Pluriverse, you'll come across some culture which will be able to put
your neural electronic configuration into bodies of artificial protein
constructed to your specifications. It says that that will happen;
it's a high statistical probability. But, in the meantime . . ."

 

 

"It's better than dying," Toyce said.

 

 

"Anything is," Tenno said.

 

 

"No," Ramstan said.

 

 

Nuoli said, "Why don't we wait this out? The bolg may empty itself before
we run out of food and water. We should take that chance."

 

 

"I've had al-Buraq estimate the time that would require. The time it takes
for the formation of a complete load of missiles -- based on the speculation
that the bolg won't fill itself entirely, and I don't know if it will
or won't -- the time it's taking for X amount of missiles to form now,
calculated against our supplies . . . no, we will starve before then.

 

 

"It will have to pause between the present missile-making and the next.
It must recharge another time, maybe many times, before it can load
itself up. That estimated time is twice as long as the estimate based
on a continuous charging."

 

 

The tec-op said, "Sir. The missile-production rate is slowing."

 

 

"I am not surprised," Ramstan said.

 

 

The others looked at each other. Ramstan said, "Tenno, have someone bring
the glyfa to the third-deck auditorium. I'll tell al-Buraq to open the door
to my quarters."

 

 

"See," his uncle's voice said. "You said you'd never see me again. But
you will. You never know what is going to happen. Even I, who've lived
so long, don't know."

 

 

"I know," Ramstan said.

 

 

A minute later, the tec-op said, "Sir, the production seems to have stopped."

 

 

The varishaped beams from the globe in the center had also ceased. The bolg
was recharging.

 

 

Suddenly, the many indicators on many panels turned a bright flashing orange,
and alarms shrilled.

 

 

Ramstan ran to the tec-op and looked over her shoulder.

 

 

"What is it?"

 

 

"We're losing energy, sir! Something's draining our fuel supply! But there
isn't any leakage! See for yourself, sir!"

 

 

His mother's voice spoke. "The bolg must be draining the energy from the
fuel. It may also be draining your energy, the life from your bodies."

 

 

Ramstan had enough self-control to impose even more on himself. He said,
coolly, "Are you affected also?"

 

 

"No. Our hull resists the draining effect. The glyfa's shell also resists."

 

 

Ramstan had not been sure until then that the speaker was not the glyfa.

 

 

"You won't take more than three of us?"

 

 

"Only three."

 

 

"Cut off all the alarm indicators except on one screen," Ramstan said
to the tec-op. "Turn off all unnecessary illumination, and reduce what's
still on to half."

 

 

He had to conserve all the energy aboard. He did not know how swiftly
the draining progressed.

 

 

He called Doctor Hu. "Dispense all the candy bars, vitamins, and protein
pills to all personnel. They're going to need it. Tenno will explain why."

 

 

Energy was probably being withdrawn from the food, but it would still give
extra energy to the crew.

 

 

He silently cursed. He had been on the point of changing his decision
to act at once instead of waiting to determine how long the recharging
and missile-production took. Now, he had no choice.

 

 

He called for quiet throughout ship and then announced what had happened.

 

 

"We may have very little time. The indicators are registering an alarming
rate of energy loss."

 

 

He was beginning to feel weak. But that could be his imagination.

 

 

"Tenno! Nuoli, Davis, and Toyce will go at once to the Vwoordha's house.
At once."

 

 

"Why those three?" Tenno said.

 

 

"I don't know why."

 

 

He subvocalized, "Shiyai, did you hear?"

 

 

"I heard. We can lock into a port. They won't have to get into space suits.
And, Ramstan . . ."

 

 

"Yes?"

 

 

Shiyai seemed reluctant to say what she must.

 

 

"The energy is being sucked out from your warheads and the power of your
lasers. If you wait too long, the bombs and lasers will be too weak to
affect the generator sphere."

 

 

"I know!"

 

 

He looked at a data screen. Al-Buraq would arrive within 1,000 kilometers
of the generator-sphere in twenty minutes. He could order that the warhead
missiles be released now and the lasers concentrated on a spot on that
whirling energy-configuration. Since the energy from ship and its crew
and its fuel and the warheads was being sucked out by that monstrous
vampire in some manner unknown to his scientists, he should command that
the attack begin at once. But he could not do so until his people had
gotten to a safe place: the glyfa and the Vwoordha's house.

 

 

When the vast power of the lasers and the warheads hit that sphere hanging
in the center of the bolg, the sphere should be disrupted. It would,
according to the Vwoordha, release an energy that would make that of the
lasers and the warheads look feeble. The now-incoherent power would raven
outwards from the core of this thing. Though the spherical shell of the
bolg had a diameter of 13,000 kilometers, it would be filled with a
destroying energy equaled only at the heart of a star.

 

 

His mother's voice spoke, and he knew that it was the glyfa who was
simulating it and not Shiyai. He could detect a very slight trace of
the personality of the glyfa or the Vwoordha in that voice.

 

 

"Tell everybody except the three women to come to the third-level
auditorium at once. Davis and Toyce will be in the Vwoordha's house
within a minute. Nuoli is still in ship. She will stay here until she
can take me to the house. She won't go near the auditorium, however,
until the passage of the crew into me has been completed. That will take
no more than a microsecond, but they have to be close to me. Nuoli would
be drawn in, too, if she were near. When I make a mass transit like this,
I cannot discriminate. All nearby are drawn in."

 

 

There was a pause. His mother's voice spoke again, but this time it was
activated by Shiyai.

 

 

"As soon as Nuoli is in the house, we will notify you. You must wait
five minutes after that before launching the attack."

 

 

Another pause. Then his mother's voice said, "Tell them to gather around
me as closely as possible. Those nearest me must put their fingers on me,
and each person not touching me should put his hands on others. They should
also have body contact. Tell them to crowd as closely together as possible."

 

 

Ramstan gave the orders as directed. The bridge personnel left immediately,
though several, especially Tenno, wished to say good-bye.

 

 

"No, not even a handshake," Ramstan said. "Get going! Run! I will talk
to you, all of you, through the screens while you're on your way to
the auditorium."