R.W. III - The Dark Design

by Philip José Farmer

  Farrington's reaction did have some logic. It could be dangerous, perhaps even foolish, to go in a blimp in the unavoidably uncertain conditions.

  Nur and Pogaas were called in to hear Frigate's new idea. Frigate proceeded to tell them what the perils might be.

  "Nevertheless, considering the time saved, it's more efficient, more economical, to go in a blimp. Actually, considering the time a blimp would take as against the time a boat would take, you'll encounter many more dangers in a boat."

  "Damn it, I'm not afraid of danger! You know better than that! It's just that . . ."

  Martin's voice trailed off.

  Tom smiled.

  Farrington said, "What are you grinning about? You look like a skunk eating shit!"

  Pogaas grinned also.

  "There's no need to get all fired up about this just now," Tom said. "First we have to find out what the Big Cheese, Podebrad, will do for us. More than likely, he won't build us a gasbag. Why should he? But let's mosey on up to his house and see what he has to say about this."

  Nur and Pogaas had more pressing business, so the captain, first mate, and deckhand walked toward a large limestone building pointed out to them by a passerby.

  "You aren't serious about stealing one of the steamboats?" Frigate said.

  "That depends," Tom said.

  "Nur will never go along with that,'' Frigate said. "Nor some of the others, either."

  "Then we might do without them," Tom said.

  They halted at Podebrad's house, which stood on top of a hill, its peaked roof of bamboo almost touching the lower branches of a tall pine tree. The guards passed .them on into a reception room. A secretary listened to them, then disappeared for a minute. Returning, he told them that Podebrad would see them just after lunch two days from now.

  They decided to go fishing the rest of the day. Rider and Farrington caught a few striped "bass," but they spent most of their time planning how to capture a steamboat.

  Ladislas Podebrad was red headed and of medium height, very broad and muscular, bull necked, thin lipped, massively chinned. Though he had formidable features and an icy demeanor, he permitted the meeting to last longer than the three had expected. It even went well, though not entirely as hoped for.

  "Why are you in such a hurry to get to the North Pole? I have heard of this tower that is supposed to be in the middle of a sea behind impassable mountains. I do not know that I believe the story. But it seems possible. Perhaps, even probable.

  "This world may have been fashioned originally by God. But it is evident that human beings, or something similar, have remade the surface of this planet. It is also evident to me, a scientist, that our resurrection is caused by physical means, by science, not by a supernatural agency.

  "Why, I do not know. But the Church of the Second Chance has an explanation that sounds somewhat logical. Though they lack much data and even more certainty.

  "In fact, the Church seems to me to know more than anyone else about this business, if I may put it that way."

  He drummed long, slim fingers on the table as they all fell silent. Frigate, watching them, thought how ill matched they were to his husky physique and broad, thick hands.

  Podebrad rose and walked to a cabinet, opened it, and withdrew an object.

  He held in his fingers a spiral bone taken from a hornfish.

  "You all know what this is. The Chancers wear it as a symbol of their faith, though I wish they had more knowledge to back their faith. But if they had more knowledge, they wouldn't need faith, would they? In this respect they're like all other religions, Terrestrial or Riverworld.

  "However, we do know that there is an afterlife.

  "Or perhaps I should say, there was an afterlife. Now that people no longer are resurrected after death, we don't know what to expert. Even the Church has no answer to the question of why translation has suddenly ceased. It speculates that, perhaps, people have been given enough time to save themselves, and there is no longer a reason to continue the resurrections. '"Either you are saved by now or you are not.

  "I really don't know what the truth is.

  "Gentlemen, I was an atheist on Earth, a member of the Czechoslovakian Communist Party. But here I met a man who convinced me that religion has nothing to do with rationality. At least, its foundation, the basis for its existence, does not.

  "After the act of faith comes, of course, the rationalization for the faith, its pseudological justification. However, neither Jesus nor Marx, Buddha nor Mohammed, Hindu nor Confucian, Taoist nor Jew were right about the afterworld. They were even more mistaken about this world than the one we were born in."

  He walked to the desk, sat down behind it, and placed the spiral bone on it.

  "Sinjoroj, I was going to announce today my conversion to the Church of the Second Chance. And also announce my resignation as head of the state of Nova Bohemujo. Several days afterward, I would embark up The River to journey to Virolando, which, I am assured, does indeed exist. And there I would ask the leader and the founder of the Church, La Viro, some questions. If he answered them satisfactorily, or even if he admitted that he did not know all the answers, I would place myself under his jurisdiction. Go where he said, do what he said.

  "But if my information is correct, and I have no reason to believe my informants are liars, Virolando is millions of kilometers away. It would take me half an Earthly lifetime to get mere.

  "Now, you suddenly come to me with a proposal. One that I am astounded I did not think of myself. Perhaps because I was really more interested in the voyage than in its end.

  "Voyages are always more rewarding in self-discovery than in anything else, are they not? Perhaps that is why the obvious escaped me.

  "Yes, gentlemen, I can build a blimp for you.

  "There is only one stipulation. You must take me with you."

  Chapter 54

  * * *

  After a long silence, Farrington said, "I don’t see how we could say no, Sinjoro Podebrad. I think I speak for all of us."

  Frigate and Rider nodded.

  "You really got us by the short hairs. Not that I have anything against your coming along with us. In fact, I am delighted. Only . . . well, what if we can't find any experienced blimp men? We'd be crazy to go up there if we don't know how to handle the machine or what we might run into."

  "Of course. But it will take a very long time to build the airship. Unless we can find some engineers who know how to design such a ship, or at least can calculate the specifications, we will have to do it from scratch.

  "Meanwhile, we can look for a pilot. Though they're very rare, somewhere along The River, within two thousand kilometers either way, there must be the man we're looking for.

  "Or perhaps I might say, there could be one. Actually, the odds are high against finding one."

  "I was a balloonist, "Frigate said. "And I read a great deal about lighter-than-air craft. I was up in a blimp for two short flights. That doesn't near make me an expert, of course."

  "Perhaps we'll have to train ourselves, Sinjoro Frigate. In which case, any knowledge will be of help."

  "Of course, that was a long time ago. I've forgotten a lot."

  "You don't exactly inspire confidence, Pete," the Frisco Kid said fiercely.

  "Confidence comes with experience," Podebrad said. "Now, gentlemen, I will start at once. I'll delay my announcement of my conversion until after the airship is ready to leave. No member of the Church, no one preaching total passive resistance, can be head of this state."

  Frigate wondered how deep the man's conversion was. It seemed to him that anybody who really believed in the tenets of the Church would say so at once. No matter what the consequences would be.

  "As soon as our conference is over, I'll get the facilities for making hydrogen underway. I think the best method, considering the minerals available, will be by the reaction of dilute sulfuric acid and zinc. Our sulfuric acid industry has been operating for some time. We were fortunate in findin
g both platinum and vanadium, though not in large quantities.

  "I do wish we could make aluminum, but . . ."

  "The Schütte-Lanz airships were made of wood," Frigate said. "A blimp wouldn't need much wood, anyway."

  Farrington said, "Wood! You want me to go up in a wooden dirigible?"

  ''The only wood would be in the keel and the car," Frigate said. "The envelope could be made from the intestinal lining of the dragonfish."

  "Which requires much fishing," Podebrad said. He stood up.

  "I have much work to get done today. But I'll see you gentlemen tomorrow during lunch. We can discuss this in detail men. Meanwhile, good day."

  Farrington, looking grave, spoke to Rider as they left the building.

  "If you ask me, this is crazy!"

  "It sounds great to me," Tom said. "To tell the truth, I'm getting pretty tired of sailing."

  "Yeah, but we could get killed while we're bumbling around trying to learn how to fly that damned thing!

  "And what if we find it won't work then? We'll have lost a lot of time!"

  Frigate said, "That doesn't sound like the man who ferried people through the White Horse rapids in Alaska, time and again, just to pick up a few bucks. Or the man who pirated oysters . . ."

  He turned pale. Rider and Farrington had stopped, and their faces were hard.

  Farrington said slowly, "I've told a lot of stories about the Yukon, but I never said anything about the White Horse rapids. Not to you anyway. Have you been eavesdropping?"

  Frigate drew a deep bream, and said, "Hell, I don't have to eavesdrop! I recognized you two the first time I saw you!"

  Suddenly, Rider was behind him and Farrington had put his hand on the hilt of his flint knife.

  Rider spoke in a low monotone. "Okay, whoever you are, just march on ahead of me. Right into the ship. And don't try anything funny."

  "I'm not going incognito!" Frigate said. "You are!"

  "Just do as I say."

  Frigate shrugged, and he tried to grin. "It's evident you two are doing a lot more than just concealing your true identities. All right. I'll go. But you wouldn't kill me, would you?"

  "That depends," Rider said.

  They walked down the hill and across the plain. At the dock the only crew member present was Nur, who was talking to a woman. Rider said, "Not a word, Pete. And smile."

  Frigate, looking straight at the little Moor, grimaced. He hoped that Nur would detect that something was wrong – he was so sensitive to expressions – but Nur only waved at them. When they were in the captain's cabin, Frisco shut the door and made Frigate sit on the edge of the bunk.

  Frigate said, "I've been with you twenty-six years. Twenty-six! And I've never told anybody what your real names were."

  Farrington sat down in the chair at his desk. Toying with his knife, he said, "That seems against human nature. How could you keep your mouth shut that long? And why?"

  "Especially why?" Rider said. He stood near the door, a hornfish stiletto in his hand.

  "It was evident that you didn't want it known, for one thing. So, being your friend, I didn't say anything. Though I will admit I wondered why you were so secretive."

  Farrington looked at Rider. "What do you think, Tom?"

  Rider shrugged, and said, "We made a mistake. We should have just laughed it off. Admitted who we are and made up some tall tale to account for it."

  Farrington put the knife down and lit a cigarette.

  "Yeah. That's hindsight. What'll we do now?"

  Rider said, "After all this mysterious folderol, Pete must know we got something to hide."

  "He already said that."

  Rider sheathed the stiletto and lit a cigarette. Frigate wondered if he should make a break for it now. His chances for success were small. Though both men were smaller, they were very strong and quick. Besides, trying to escape would make him look guilty.

  Guilty of what?

  Tom said, "That's better. Forget about getting away. Relax."

  "With you two thinking of murder?"

  Rider laughed and said, "After all these years you ought to know we can't kill in cold blood. Even a stranger, and we're sort of fond of you, Pete."

  "Well, if I were what you think I am, whatever that is, what would you do?"

  "Work up a passion so I wouldn't have to kill you in cold blood, I reckon."

  "Why?"

  "If you aren't really Peter Frigate, then you know."

  "Who in hell else could I be?"

  There was a long silence. Finally, Farrington ground out his cigarette in an ashtray clamped to the desk.

  ' "The thing is, Tom," he said, "he has been with us longer man any of our wives. If he was one of Them, why would he stay around so long? Especially since he claims he recognized us the day he met us.

  "We would have been scooped up that night, if he's one of Them."

  "Maybe," Tom said. "We don't know more than one-quarter of what's going on. One-eightieth, maybe. And what we do know may be a lie. Maybe we've been played for suckers."

  "Them? Scooped up?" Frigate said.

  Martin Farrington looked at Tom, and he said, "What'll we do now? There isn't any way of identifying Them. We're fools, Tom. We should've just told him a big lie. Now we got to go all the way."

  "If he's one of Them, then he already knows," Rider said. "So we wouldn't be telling him much he doesn't know. Except about the Ethical. And if he is an agent, then he wouldn't have been put on our trail unless They suspected we'd been contacted by Him."

  "Yeah, we jumped the gun. And there isn't any gun in the first place. You know, if Pete's an agent, why would he have suggested the blimp? Would an agent want us to get to the tower?"

  "That's right. Unless ..."

  "Don't keep me hanging."

  "Unless there's something haywire, and he's as much in the dark now as we are."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Listen, Tom, lately I've been doing a lot of thinking when I should've been sleeping or screwing. I've been thinking that there's something mysterious going on. I don't mean what the Ethical told us. I mean this business of there suddenly being no more resurrections.

  "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe stopping them wasn't the original plan – whatever that is?"

  "You mean, somebody threw a monkey wrench in the machinery? And that blew the fuse and left everybody in the dark?"

  "Yes. And the agents don't know what's going on any more than me and you."

  "Which could mean that Pete here is an agent. He's just trying to get home."

  '' You mean he might've found us but couldn't do anything about it? So he went along for the ride? And he proposed this blimp idea because it'd help him, not us, get there faster?"

  "Something like that."

  "So that puts us back where we were. Pete could be one of Them."

  "If he is, it's like I said. We won't be telling him anything he don't know."

  "Yeah, but he could tell us plenty. Plenty!"

  "You going to beat it out of him? What if he really is Frigate?"

  "I wouldn't, anyway. Not unless I knew the stakes were really high.. Oh, hell, not even then."

  "We could just sail on and leave him behind," Farrington said.

  Tom smiled crookedly and said, "Yeah? You'd like that, wouldn't you? You wouldn't have to trust your quivering flesh and beating heart to a sky boat.''

  "You're getting awful close to making me mad, Tom."

  "Okay. I won't ever say another word about that subject. Besides, I know you ain't got a cowardly bone in your body.

  "So, what'll we do? Remember, if we did sail on, by the time we got to the North Pole – if we ever did – Pete here would have the whole thing solved."

  "Oh, hell," Farrington said. "How could he be one of Them? They're superior to human beings, right? And Pete sure isn't no superman. No offense, Pete."

  Tom glanced narrow-eyed at Frigate.

  "He could be pretending to be only human. But I d
on't think anybody could put up a front like that for twenty-six years."

  "Let's tell him then. What do we have to lose? Besides, I'm tired of keeping a secret for twenty-nine years."

  "You always did talk too much."

  "Look who's talking, Old Chief Run-off-at-the-mouth himself."

  Farrington lit another cigarette. Rider followed his example, then said, "You want to light up too, Pete?"

  "You're trying to kill me with smoke," Frigate said. He drew a cigar out of his over-the-shoulderbag.

  "I think I need a drink, too."

  "We all do. Tom, you do the honors. Then we'll tell all. God, what a relief!"

  Chapter 55

  * * *

  " 'Twas a dark and stormy night," Tom said. he smiled to acknowledge that he knew he was deliberately imitating the classical opening line of ghost stories.

  "Jack and I . . ."

  "Keep it Martin, Tom. Remember? Even when in private."

  "Sure, but you were Jack men. Anyway, I knew the Kid here, but we weren't good friends yet. Our huts were close together, both of us were sailors on a patrol sloop in the navy of a local warlord.

  "One night, when I was off duty, sleeping in my hut, I suddenly woke up. It wasn't the thunder and lightning that woke me up, either. It was a tap on my shoulder.

  "At first, I thought it was Howardine, my woman. You remember her, Kid?"

  "She was a beauty," Martin said to Frigate. "A red-headed Scotchwoman."

  Frigate stirred, and he said, "I'm anxious to get to the heart of the matter."

  "Okay, no frills then. It wasn't her, because she was sound asleep. Then a flash of lightning showed me a dark figure squatting by me. I started to rear up, my hand going under my pillow for my tomahawk. But I couldn't move.

  "I guess I was drugged or under a spell of some kind. I thought, Oh, oh! This guy has got it in for me, and he's paralyzed me somehow and now yours truly is going to get it.

  "Of course, I'd wake up someplace else, but I didn't feel like leaving.

  "Then a couple of flashes showed the outline of the guy in detail. I was startled. Not scared, you realize, just startled. His body was covered in a big black cloak. And the head! There wasn't any. I mean, it was covered by a big globe, like a fishbowl. It was all black so I couldn't see his face. But somehow he could see me.