“How did you men get here?” I asked.
“Some of us were recruited from towns all over America. Others were taken off foundered space freighters. It wasn’t so bad at first. Mr. Smith used to give us Sundays off, and sometimes Saturday would be a half day. We could go to the movies, and he even used to provide women for us from some of the space brothels that tour the colonies. I’m not saying it was good, but it was a lot better than it is now. We’ve been losing men, see, and Mr. Smith hasn’t been able to replace them fast enough. Now we all have to work almost around the clock. Otherwise the whole place would fall apart.”
Henke sighed. His ravaged face was stern. “Back before the emergency, it used to be nice after a tough day’s thinking to be able to think about nothing. Or to think your own thoughts. I used to think about where I was brought up—
Maine, up near the Quebec border. I used to like to think about those Maine mornings, the sun coming up over the fir trees, the whole world growing green and light. I thought about other things, too. But there’s no time for that now. We’ve warned him. He says he’ll do something about it, but I don’t see what he can do. We’re getting no new people in here and the rest of us can’t go on much longer.”
“How come you’re not in there with the others?” I asked.
“I burned out, and so they leave me unwatched,” Henke said. “They think I can barely communicate. But I have fooled them. I have retained the faculties of speech and reasoning. What I have lost are my other abilities. Long years of work on the Mind Machines have stripped my neuronal sheaths and exhausted whole areas of my mind. I used to be a pretty fair mathematician. Now all I can remember is the formula for the diameter of a circle, E=MC2. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Listen,” I said, “I can see you’re in a terrible situation. As soon as I get back to Earth I’m going to notify the authorities and see that something is done about it.”
“You are, are you?”
“Of course I am.”
“What makes you think you’re going to get back? The first few nights you’re Smith’s guest. That’s when he milks you of whatever small novelty value you may have.”
“And then?”
Before he could answer, I heard the sound of footsteps. Captain Lopez came up the hillside, tapping a swagger stick against the side of his starched khakis.
“Mr. Fletcher, you were asked not to go into the Power Level. Henke must have forgotten about their closed-circuit TV cameras. Huh, Henke?”
Henke cringed and didn’t answer. “Now you’ve seen what you shouldn’t have seen,” Lopez went on. “Well, come with me, Mr. Fletcher.”
I took a step back and clenched my fists. Lopez laughed. The side flap of his holster was open. His hand hovered near the butt of his automatic. It was as though he was challenging me—can you jump me before I can draw and fire? He looked pretty confident and I figured he might have reasons for that.
Lopez, gun out now, directed me back into the Power Level, down a corridor and into a room.
“You will wait here.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing too drastic, I assure you. I want you to wait here while I confer with Dr. Hanna and The Governor.”
Lopez left and locked me in. I sat down to wait for the bad news.
7.
They only kept me in there a few hours. That’s not so long. But I tell you, it was hard on my nerves. I was thinking that I hadn’t been so smart, to let Lopez put me in here without a fight. Whatever happened, nothing good was going to come to me in this place. They could kill me, report that I’d taken off again, send my spaceship outward bound on automatic pilot. I was in a fix.
Then Lopez came and brought me out. I asked him where we were going, but he said that no questions were allowed.
He had the gun in his hand, as if he had divined that I might be desperate. I was still ready to jump him, but I saw no point in committing suicide. I hoped to get a better chance later.
He took me up to the big room where I had eaten dinner with Mr. Smith that first night. Smith was there, looking stern and imposing in the big chair, his great beard spread out over his chest like he was some kind of old-time prophet. Vera was there, too, dressed in dark slacks and blouse, looking, I thought, a little uneasy.
“Take a seat, Mr. Fletcher,” The Governor said. I could tell nothing from his voice. “It seems you have been looking into our family secrets.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “Your secrets are safe with me. I was just curious, that’s all.”
“What I’m working on is simply too important to let some outsider bungle it. I had rather dire plans for you, Fletcher. But then my daughter told me the big news.”
Vera said, “Ned, there was no sense in keeping our plans a secret after you looked into the Power Level. You should have waited, darling. But I don’t suppose it matters. I’ve told my father that we intend to get married.”
I prided myself on not doing a double take. What I said was, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry your father had to find out this way.”
I walked over to her. She rose and came into my arms. And whispered in my ear, “You’re doing fine, chump. Keep it up!”
“Well, Ned,” Smith said, “I suppose we might as well get on a first name basis. You may call me Cedric. Vera tells me it was love at first sight. That you two were plighted, so to speak, on the evening of your arrival here. That is the only thing which disposes me to trust you.”
He rose and came over to me.
“Ned, what I’m doing is very important. Not just for me, for all mankind. I will explain it to you in due course. Will you promise never to betray me?”
“Of course I promise, sir,” I said. It was one of those things you have to say. What else could I do? But it still sits bad on my conscience.
“Very well, then. Later, after dinner, I’ll tell you about my project.”
8.
“You catch on pretty fast,” Vera said when we were alone.
“What’s the idea?”
“It was the only way I could help you. You and I have a common cause here. You want to get away from this place, right? Well, so do I. Yes, I know, I’m his daughter. But he’s what you’d call over-protective. I’ve been here all of my life. I want so desperately to get to Earth and live a normal life. But Smith is lonely; he keeps on thinking up reasons why I should stay. I feel sorry for him, but I must get away from here, Ned.”
“OK,” I said. “You’ve got a deal. Help me figure out how to get back into the ship and I’ll take you anywhere you want.”
“Strictly business,” Vera said. “But you’ve got to make it look good as long as we’re here.”
“So’ll you,” I said.
She gave me a curious look. “I can handle that. You’re not so hard to take.”
And then she left quickly.
I learned that evening and in the days after it that Cedric Smith had been born in the Texas Republic, where he had worked in one of the large cotton mills. He proved an exceptional businessman. He moved quickly up through the ranks, and within a few years he was manager of the entire operation, second only to decrepit old Mr. Dodds, the owner. The sudden opening of Argentina under Lopez de Aragon to Texas Republic cotton manufacturing presented Smith with new opportunities. He went into business for himself, opened a mill in Buenos Aires, then another mill in Mendoza, and then another. Within five years he had a chain of businesses up and down the Western Hemisphere.
He became vastly wealthy, and moved to the Caribbean island of Dominica, where easy tax laws and a pleasant life style under a grandson of the Empress Josephine had proven tempting to many businessmen the world over.
Like many of his kind, Smith wanted to leave his mark upon the world. He was wealthy enough to have indulged in art collecting, that reliable diversion of the untalented rich. Or he could have founded libraries, hospitals, even universities. He chose none of these. A man with a strong visionary streak, and wit
h something of the megalomaniac in his makeup, Cedric Smith chose to go to the new frontier of space.
He had been working for a long time with Dr. Hanna on a mindpower project. He decided it would be best pursued away from the restraining laws of Earth, in space, where he was answerable to no one.
It was typical of Smith that he did the trip in style. No less than ten medium-sized long-haul ships brought his goods out to the asteroid belt. His agents had already laid claim to a good-sized chunk of rock. It was no more than ten miles in diameter, a handy-sized little world to make over for the use of people. Rocket-assisted spin provided gravity. Water could be mined from chunks of archaic ice in the asteroids, and oxygen could be extracted from the water.
Smith brought his house out from Earth, transporting it in pieces and reassembling it on the spot. That was the origin of this gracious rambling mansion.
Smith brought his wife Luella with him into the asteroids, and their baby daughter, Vera. Luella Smith tried to make a go of it, but the asteroids were a man’s world, of little interest to women. She succumbed after a little more than two years to melancholia and a wasting illness which Dr. Hanna was unable to cure.
Vera, the daughter, grew up in this place, dreaming her dreams of far-away Earth, praying for the day when she could get away from here, away from her father’s mad experiments and the atmosphere of fanaticism and gloom that hung like a dark cloud over the little world. She was desperate to get out. And I was the first chance that had come along. I was desperate to get away, too. And I thought Vera was pretty cute.
9.
Vera and I mooned around like honeymooning doves, putting on a good show for everyone, amusing ourselves, and planning our escape. I learned that the doors between me and the spacelock were sealed. My space ship was there. Only Smith could get in. I’d have to wait until Vera could find a way to get in.
After dinner one evening, Smith asked me into his study.
“You’re one of us now, Ned,” he said. “On probation, but still, potentially at least, one of us. Let me show you around now for real, and put you completely into the picture. We’re on to something very important here. Important not just for us, but for America and the whole human race.”
Smith and Dr. Hanna were convinced that mankind’s next breakthrough would be in the area of mental power. Present-day experiments in telepathy and telekinesis on Earth had pointed the way. But all of these had been done with individual subjects working alone. You couldn’t generate enough mind power that way, Smith explained. A team effort was needed. A group of mediators working together under direction, through focusing machinery. That was the way to produce the breakthrough into another dimension of power.
The technical side of the work was beyond me. Smith explained that Hanna had perfected techniques of computer-generated pull-lines—spiral patterns which in effect pulled the mind into the computer and helped it zero in on the area of focus. Meter readings showed brain wave activity and also served to let the supervisors know if any of the mind-slaves wasn’t pulling his weight. Cooperation and synchronization between minds was essential if you wanted to generate any real power. Unattended, the mind-objects so produced had only a brief perseverance. The objects were “real,” however, in the sense that they were physical entities which would pass any test of physicality.
Although they were real, mind-objects seemed to belong to a different dimension of space-time. When not powered by the mind-slaves, they vanished into a hypothetical other dimension. This other dimension was perhaps the fourth dimension, perhaps something beyond that. The key to entry was mind-power.
“The problem,” Smith summed up, “is how to generate enough power to get there. We have insufficient men on Manitori to accomplish this. And the men don’t have enough motivation to do the job well. But we’re making progress. We hope yet to make a definitive breakthrough.”
I returned to my room, thinking about all this. Later Vera came to me, late at night.
“I’ve arranged everything,” she said. “I’ve been able to null the interior lock system for an hour. If we hurry, we can get to your spaceship and get out of this place.”
She grabbed my hand. “Come on,” she said.
“Wait,” I said.
“What is it?”
“Before we go, I have to free the slaves.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Vera said. “You’re really too much.”
“Yeah. But I promised.”
“So what’s a promise to a slave?”
“The promise means something to me,” I said angrily.
10.
It took a little time but I did it. The slaves’ quarters had a special locking mechanism. I insisted that Vera take me to the master control panel and set the doors to open. I wanted to find Henke and tell him about this, but there was no time. I hoped the slaves would find out for themselves. I had done what I could. Now Vera and I had to get out fast.
We hurried down the corridors, passed through the spacelock and into my ship. I sealed the doors and prepared to fire up. That was one hell of a moment to hear over my radio the steely soft tones of Cedric Smith, saying, “Surely you can’t be thinking of leaving us so soon, Fletcher?”
I motioned Vera to get out of sight and turned on the TV screen. The Governor’s image came up sharply.
“Sorry I have to hurry off,” I said. “I meant to tell you, I’m behind schedule.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have my daughter with you, by any chance?” Smith asked.
The hell of it was, I didn’t know if the best answer was “yes” or “no.” Finally I decided upon honesty, since he probably knew, anyway.
“I’m taking her shopping,” I said, on sudden inspiration. “Never thought of that, did you? Young women like to go shopping. I’m taking her to Earth for a couple of weeks. Then we’ll come back.”
The sheer effrontery of it must have given him pause. He considered for a moment. I had turned off the magnetic grapples that held us to the asteroid. Already ship and asteroid were beginning to drift apart.
“It’s kind of you to look after my daughter, Mr. Fletcher. But I think I can take care of that very well myself, thank you.”
He turned to his control panel, his fingers moving quickly over the computer’s keys. Twin gantries, with great hooks at their ends, swung out from either side of the platform my ship was on. I could eyeball the result. The hooks would get my ship before I could get out of their reach.
Vera had come out of hiding behind the pilot’s seat. She looked her father in the TV screen square in the eye.
“You always did spoil my fun,” she screamed at him. “You never gave me what I wanted, even when I was a little girl. Mom was more important to me than you and I can’t even remember her. How about giving me a break, Dad? Give me and Ned a nice apartment in Paris, where we can have some fun. Come on, Dad, how about it?”
“Vera,” he said, “I’d love to give you what you want. You must believe that. But I can’t. Not yet. My experiments in elevating human thought to self-sustaining levels is worth more than any number of human lives.”
“You always say that,” Vera screamed at him.
“Well, it’s true,” Smith said. “I’m truly sorry, but I’m afraid you can’t leave.”
“We’re going anyhow,” I told him.
He shook his head. “You’re as good as helpless. Your thrust-tubes can do some superficial damage to the superstructure, but nothing serious, nothing that can’t be quickly repaired. I’ve got you.”
“You haven’t got me yet,” I told him. “They build these hulls of pretty good gauge steel, specially hardened. I didn’t notice any equipment around that could cut through that.”
“I don’t have to blast you out,” Smith said. “There are other ways. Have you considered the effects of electricity, for example? No doubt Dr. Hanna could arrange for us to pass a few million volts through your hull. You might find that discomfiting.”
“So might your daughter,�
�� I said.
“If you do indeed love her,” Smith said, “you will send her out before we attack your ship.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Vera yelled. “I’m staying right here.”
“In any event,” Smith said, “I do not propose to attack you unless forced. I’d like to make you an offer.”
“Let’s hear what he has to say,” Vera said.
“Open your hatches,” Smith told me. “Come out, both of you, and enter into a full partnership with me and my colleagues. No strings attached—except that you and Vera must stay here until such time as has been mutually agreed upon by all parties. This is my world so I am empowered to marry people. You could take a honeymoon on one of the private worlds nearby, as long as Captain Lopez accompanied you to ensure your return.”
“Not interested,” I told him.
“I’d appreciate you taking a moment to reconsider. I suppose I should have explained everything to you at once. But it’s difficult, you know. And why should I explain myself to you, a stranger? But you and my daughter have hit it off. I am in favor of the match. I give my parental blessing. But first you must hear me out.”
“Go on,” I said.
“You see this little world and my position in it as something evil. I suppose you would characterize what I do as a callous exploitation of the weak by the strong.”
“That’s a pretty good summary,” I said. “Are you going to argue that it isn’t so?”
“No. But it is so for a purpose. Mr. Fletcher, do you have any idea what we can do if we get this power properly working?”
“Make a lot of money off the patents, I suppose.”
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