Man of Two Worlds

by Frank Herbert

  Medical officer of some kind, Lutt thought, but he had no military experience to tell him her rank or specialty. She wore dark glasses that glittered when she aimed them at him.

  Abruptly, she released her hold on the wheel and laughed, a menacing sound that sent a chill up Lutt’s back. She slammed a fist against the wheel and it vanished into the desk.

  “Why do you need that wheel?” Lutt ventured. “I thought the military was fully automated.”

  “Shut up, you! I’ll ask the questions here!”

  No gentle lady, this one!

  She adjusted her dark glasses on her nose. “I am Major Paula Captain.” Crisp, authoritarian voice.

  She did not sound like one of his periodic helpers. Father always said to attack when in doubt. Lutt took a deep breath. “Have you been a major long enough to get over being called Captain Captain?”

  “Your lame levity is not amusing, Mr. Hanson.”

  “Then maybe I should publish a series on how the military gold-plates everything to make jobs for officers. Would that amuse you?”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Oh, no, Major Captain, ma’am.”

  “I’ve heard every play on my name your lame brain could imagine and I do not bow to threats. Is that clear?”

  “As clear as Spirit Glass, Captain . . . I mean, Major.”

  She glanced at something on her desk. “You’ve been brought before me on an extremely serious charge.”

  “Trespassing,” Lutt said.

  She leaned toward him. “We could’ve blasted you out of space without warning! Do you understand that?”

  Lutt stared past her at a pulsing panel of Spirit Glass.

  Lutt! Stop looking at that glass. That’s what she wants.

  The voice in his head! Real or not, a good warning. He shifted attention to Major Captain and imagined her naked. That sometimes put officious types in proper perspective. Firm chin, largish nose, small breasts. The desk hid her legs.

  The room’s light shifted suddenly and the Spirit Glass became mirrors. The glass reflected several aspects of Major Captain. All of them wavered and elongated, then shortened.

  “Your guards told me to stand in a circle, but this is a spiral under me,” Lutt said. “I know something about spirals.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t locate the correct place to stand,” she said. No hint of a smile.

  She wants you to look around. Don’t do it

  Again, good advice from the voice in his head. Lutt formed what he hoped was a sarcastic smile.

  Something under her desk went “clickety-clickety . . .” She struck the desk with a fist and the sound stopped.

  Lutt concentrated on the Spirit Glass behind the major. Gray silhouettes there began to dance suggestively.

  The glass responds to your lustful mind! Don’t do that.

  He imagined rabbit ears and they attached themselves to her reflection.

  Lutt chuckled. I’ll have her nibbled to death by rabbits!

  Two rabbits appeared in the reflections and began eating the major’s images. The illusion vanished with an audible burp.

  “Have you ever heard of Dreens?” she asked.

  Urgency gave Ryll command of their voice. “Screens? What kind of screens?”

  “I said Dreens!”

  “What the hell are Dreens?” He inched backwards.

  “Stay in the circle!” she barked.

  “I understand.” Ryll spoke with tenuous voice control. “Black is white and brains are pudding to be stirred and eaten.”

  She leaned forward, an elbow on her desk, and supported her chin on one hand. Her expression did not change.

  Ryll felt a growing panic from Lutt.

  All right! Take over but be cautious. This one could throw us into prison forever.

  Hesitantly, Lutt resumed control. He blinked, stalling to get his thoughts in order, and glanced around, trying once more to count the panels.

  Stop counting. You’ll get a different number each time.

  “Perhaps you’ve overlooked something,” she said.

  “This room is supposed to seem like a whole level of the building but it’s too small,” Lutt said. “Any idiot can see that. Even you. It’s just tricks, illusions. I stopped being impressed by carnival games when I was ten.”

  She laughed and once more it carried a mean tone.

  “I freely admit there are other rooms on this level. Do you know which panels are actually doors into those rooms?”

  Look at her, not at the Spirit Glass!

  Lutt stared at her and realized he was looking at a reflection. He swept his gaze around and focused on what he thought was Major Captain seated at her desk.

  “I know about Spirit Glass!” he said. “It’s supposed to turn my brain into pulp for an inquisitor like you.”

  “Considering who your father is, I don’t doubt you’ve seen such glass,” she said. “But you’re not with your father now.”

  “He’ll be madder than a wet adder when he learns about this!”

  “Come now! Why don’t you look at me!”

  Lutt realized he had been looking at another reflection. He turned and saw the desk with Major Captain behind it. She smiled, cold and frightening.

  “Be a good boy and help me get through this.”

  The way she said “good boy” sounded vaguely like his mother. This Major Captain was an irritating bitch!

  He saw a female dog in a reflection. It was suckling a puppy but turned on the puppy and ate it. Lutt felt like vomiting.

  “Lutt Hanson Junior,” she said. “I’m told you’re a good newspaperman but you’ve never heard of Dreens.”

  “That’s doubletalk! You’re just trying to confuse me.”

  “Are you a good newspaperman?”

  “Hell! I own a newspaper.”

  “No. Daddy owns it. He gave it to you as a plaything.”

  All of the major’s reflections began chanting in Lutt’s mind:

  “Daddy owns it. . . Daddy owns it. . . Daddy owns it. . .”

  You’re hallucinating! Stop it!

  Lutt felt his face flush hot.

  “Where’s my ship?” he demanded. “You’d better release me and return my ship.”

  “You’ve been conducting illegal research on space travel.”

  “Who says it’s illegal? Show me the law!”

  She propped her display screen into a new position, studied it a moment, then smiled sweetly at Lutt.

  “Spiral communications, yes. And now you want to take this development into space.”

  “Who told you? Where did you—”

  “I ask the questions; you answer.”

  “This is no way to negotiate with me for the use of what I’ve discovered! Is that what you’re doing?”

  “What have you discovered?”

  “None of your damn business!”

  “Oh? Well, we’ll find out when you apply for patent.”

  “I’m not going to patent. I’m going to keep it secret and

  protect it with a self-destruct system.”

  She scowled. “Are you saying your ship self-destructed?”

  “I’m not saying anything.”

  “What if I said you collided with a Zone Patrol ship?”

  “I’d call you a liar.”

  “Were you drunk or on drugs, Mr. Hanson?”

  “Your doctors have already told you I’m clean. I don’t befuddle my brain.”

  “We haven’t ‘rayed you but the preliminary examination says you came through the accident remarkably unscathed. How did you do that when your copilot was killed?”

  I told you Drich was dead.

  Stay out of this!

  Steer her away from this, fool! Next you’ll be telling her the other ship was Dreen and we’ll be in the soup!

  You know I don’t believe that

  You got us into this mess, Lutt, improperly accessing a Spiral. Don’t make it any worse.

  I’ll do what I damn well
please!

  Despite its human appearance, our body is mostly Dreen. Haven’t you any gratitude for what I did to save you?

  There’s no such thing as a Dreen.

  Damn it! We both heard her!

  Just more hallucination!

  Desperately, Ryll tried once more to override Lutt and met resistance greater than anticipated. Ryll tried to move their left foot and felt it twitch.

  What was happening here? Yesterday, Lutt had been weak and easily controlled. Now, he was fearful, angry and stronger.

  Lutt! The Zone Patrol has Dreen captives who may never see freedom again. Do you want to join them?

  I don’t want to believe this.

  You must believe it!

  It’s the Spirit Glass. They’ve fried my brain.

  Ryll hesitated. With a sinking feeling, he realized he could take command of this body but the effort would be sure to arouse the interrogator’s suspicions.

  Lutt allowed himself a gloating thought. I feel better today. I’m okay except for an annoying voice in my mind.

  Clasping his hands over his head, Lutt stretched, making his knuckles pop.

  Urgency gave Ryll control of their voice and he blurted: “Don’t do that!”

  Major Captain stiffened. “What don’t you want me to do?”

  Privately, Ryll thought: That was a mistake. By the fallow glands of a sterile tax collector, did I merge incorrectly?

  Lutt grinned and resumed control of their voice. “Just trying to keep you awake. Looked like you were getting sleepy.”

  “How can you tell? You can’t see my eyes.”

  Lutt closed his eyes and sighed, concentrating on his bodily sensations. Was it possible this creature calling itself Ryll actually existed? Concentration gave Lutt the momentary sensation of Dreen inward-seeing. It was elusive, just at the fringe of comprehension. Sickening!

  “You’re the one looking sleepy,” Major Captain said.

  Lutt opened his eyes. “I’ve a headache.”

  “Then speed this up.by telling me about the Dreen ship you hit.”

  “There you go with that doubletalk!”

  You’re doing fine, Lutt. Accuse her. Attack.

  Behind the major, Lutt saw a glass panel take the shape of a kangaroo. It began hopping from panel to panel. Meeting the undulating form of a naked Major Captain in a panel, the kangaroo developed a large penis.

  Lutt! Stop that. It’s exactly what she wants!

  The kangaroo vanished but all of the Spirit Glass began to undulate suggestively. Multiple reflections of the major appeared in a clinging yellow gown.

  Lutt tried to find the real major among the reflections.

  Find the one in uniform, idiot!

  He saw her then, seated at her desk, but there was lace at her neck. She appeared to look directly at him.

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “What do you see?” Lutt countered.

  “You tell me what you see.”

  “I want out of here and I want my ship. The ship I hit came out of thin air without any warning. I’m not to blame.”

  “Air? In space?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m sorry, but you must tell me yourself what you mean.”

  “I’m patriotic and I’ll cooperate as much as possible, but I won’t give away my family’s proprietary secrets. You’ll have to pay hard cash for those.”

  “We’ll learn all we need from the wreckage.”

  No, she won’t! Ryll thought it openly, allowing Lutt to share. My Dreen drive self-destructed to keep it from alien hands.

  Lutt found himself not quite accepting the reality of this voice but desperately wanting to believe what it now said.

  Are you sure?

  I saw it happen. Patricia would not let herself fall into Earther hands.

  Patricia?

  A very odd name, I agree.

  Major Captain cleared her throat. “Are you suggesting you hit a UFO?”

  “Of course not!”

  “We’ve had enough such nonsense. It does nothing but create panic and hysteria.”

  Lie! Say there was no other ship. Say you had a malfunction, your ship strayed off course and exploded.

  That was a good idea! Lutt accepted it and obeyed.

  Major Captain listened quietly. She appeared pleased.

  When Lutt fell silent, she touched a lever on her desk. The Spirit Glass became steady, a dull shade of opaque gray.

  Major Captain removed her glasses, revealing eyes almost the same gray as the Spirit Glass. Her mouth formed a rigid smile. He had never before seen an expression that chilling.

  That was the explanation she wanted.

  Damned voice in his head!

  “Let’s understand each other, Mr. Hanson. Technically, you broke the law by entering a restricted area. What were you doing there?”

  “I had an accident. Isn’t there an unwritten law about ‘any port in a storm’? Doesn’t the Zone Patrol have obligations to taxpayers?”

  “Be quiet, little man. We could put you away for a long time. But our examination of your ship led us to the conclusion you have just voiced.”

  “I told you the truth.”

  “Of course you did. But only after you tried to develop a story you could exploit in your damned newspaper.”

  “So I’m a businessman and my experiments are expensive.”

  “We’re willing to shelve prosecution, Mr. Hanson, but only on one condition.”

  Oh, oh! Here it comes!

  Will you get out of my mind!

  Our mind, Lutt. Our mind. Well, ask her what condition!

  “What condition?”

  “If you develop anything valuable for national defense, you give it to the Zone Patrol first.”

  “That’s blackmail!”

  “It’s good business.”

  While Lutt was distracted by this idea, Ryll suddenly seized control of their voice and said: “Shit!”

  “No need to get angry, Mr. Hanson. We’ll pay well.”

  But Ryll’s reaction was to the sudden realization he could have escaped the Zone Patrol cell by shapeshifting into a long, thin snake having mass equal to his Dreen body.

  But they’d have known I was Dreen then. Fearfully, he returned control to Lutt.

  “You’re young,” Major Captain said. “Perhaps you’ll be wiser when you mature.”

  She opened a desk drawer and removed a clear plastic bag, which she extended toward Lutt.

  “Your personal effects.”

  Lutt accepted them, fearful of what his misbehaving body might do next. Why was he saying these things?

  “You’re damn lucky to have such an influential father,” Major Captain said.

  So Father put on the pressure!

  Emboldened by this realization, Lutt said: “And I want my ship back as soon as possible!”

  “It sustained extensive damage and there’ll be a hearing over the death of your copilot.”

  “Drich signed all of the test-pilot waivers! We carried heavy insurance for his survivors.”

  “No doubt. We merely wish to determine the degree of your culpability.”

  “Drich was in control when it happened.”

  They’ll follow and watch us.

  Will you stop distracting me?

  Major Captain glanced at her screen, then: “As for your ship, you can have it but we don’t deliver. See our warehouseman in Section 154-C.”

  “How do I find this warehouse?”

  “They’ll give you directions when you sign out. Take the elevator up one level and check out with the lobby guard. And you’d damn well better say nothing about Dreens.”

  “Lady, if I knew what you were talking about, I’d discuss this with you. Personally, I think you’re nuts.”

  “We’ll see who’s aberrated. Oh, there’s a limo waiting outside for you.”

  Lutt smiled. So the Zone Patrol was sending him home in style. He hoped the elevator would be
visible when he turned. It was.

  But the major was not through with him.

  “That’s some limo they sent for you. Your father must have those things made for some Chinese circus.”

  Oh, damn! Damn! Damn! It’s a Hanson limo—one of our blasted rickshaws! They know I hate ’em! Why are they coming for me in one of those?

  ***

  Combining life forms has a long history of creating havoc.

  —Dreen warning

  It was a full Thoughtcon of Dreen Elite in the visuplex cupola atop Habiba’s cone. Giving off a faint icy yellow glow, the Supreme Tax Collector perched in a gold and white robe at the peak of the circular room. Below her, spaced along a spiral terrace that wound its way down to the lowest members of the hierarchy, sat the chosen ones invited here by Mugly.

  Beneath Habiba at her right, Chief Storyteller Jongleur rocked slowly, balanced at the edge of Thoughtcon trance. Mugly the Elder sat half a meter farther down the terrace. Below them were thirty-four others—twenty-six of the Senior Elite and eight Juniors. All of those below Habiba wore large-pocketed black robes with floppy ochre berets. The soft berets of Seniors flopped to the right, while those of the Juniors flopped to the left.

  Mugly squirmed in his seat. He felt hazy and inadequate, unaware that he had disconnected his conspiratorial memories before entering the cupola. Moments earlier, he had felt a tingling in his nose, spine and hair roots as Habiba drew energy from his body. Presently, he felt vaguely serene.

  Habiba had explained once that seating in a spiral cone permitted an upswirl of thoughts, which she absorbed instantly in her ancient and eternal brain.

  “This is the combined information from which I make my state decisions.”

  Mugly looked out at the island whirling in the center of the sea below the cone.

  The Sea of All Things. Why do we call it that?

  Habiba did not respond to his unspoken question.

  Mugly was forced to consider the possibilities while he waited for whatever Habiba might introduce next.

  Sea of All Things and the island beneath him: no Dreen had idmaged any of this, so Habiba said. A quirk of nature had made the island, a round boat kept afloat by airpockets of pumice and held in one place by a continuous whirlpool that spun it in the center of the sea.

  What keeps the whirlpool going?