The Shores of Death

by Michael Moorcock

  Marca was horrified at what he saw—absolute torment. In that still face they stared out at him, without self-pity, without any true intelligence. It was as if some mute, uncomprehending creature were trapped in the skull. It was not the look of a man at all. It was the look of a tortured animal.

  Marca realised at once that Alodios did not think now—he felt. Sense appeared to have left him, but sensibility remained. He was a soul in darkness, all tormented sensibility.

  Marca could only bear to stare at the eyes for a few moments. This man was once a genius, he thought, intelligent and sensitive, he created great novels, combinations of poetry, prose, pictures, mobiles, sculpture, music, plays. But now it was as if something had attacked the brain-cells, attacked his intelligence whilst leaving the sensitive core of him unsullied. What must he suffer, this dark, tormented king, this tragic giant? A man of supreme sensitivity controlled by superb intelligence— now retaining all the vast sensitivity, still receptive, still aware—but with no intelligence to rationalise it. This was torment of unbelievable intensity.

  What had happened to Alodios? What had made him like this? Marca looked again at the eyes. All the pain was still there. Only death could remove it.

  He edged around the chair and was about to step away when he saw Take. The strange man still held his head in an odd way. He was dressed in black and he held his hands clasped before him.

  “He has what you want,” Take said in his melodious voice.

  “This? This isn’t what I want! ”

  “He has immortality. Isn’t that what you want? ”

  Marca nodded.

  “Well, Alodios went to Olono Sharvis and Olono Sharvis played a joke on him. Alodios found immortality, but he lost the sense of passing time.”

  “A—joke? On Alodios! He was the greatest—”

  “Yes, Olono Sharvis knew what he was. That, you see, was the joke.”

  ten Act of Mercy

  After A moment, Marca said: “Couldn’t we kill him? ” Take shook his head. “I think you would find that he was invulnerable to anything we might try.”

  “You seem to know Sharvis well? ”

  “Oh, yes, I know him very well.”

  “How long have you been aware that I was looking for him? ”

  “I was lucky—virtually before you ever heard of him! You won’t remember a town on Byzantium where I first saw you. You were being taken to the hospital. I heard a little of what you said and it made me curious. You went to see an engineer in the repair docks later. You had heard that he had told a story of a scientist who lived out in the Bleak Worlds—a scientist who had lived for centuries and knew the secret of immortality. I spoke to the man soon after he had told you the scrap of a story he knew ...”

  “Very well, so you know I am trying to find a means of living forever. Why are you so concerned? ”

  “Well,” Take seemed to deliberate. “You might say that I like you, Clovis Marca; that I feel kindly towards you and don’t want you to do something I am sure you will regret.”

  “But it is none of your concern,” Marca reminded him softly.

  “You might say that it is my concern, since I am in a position to tell you what Olono Sharvis would never tell you. You see, I am immortal.”

  Marca was not completely surprised. “But are you human? ”

  Take laughed.

  “Are you? ” Marca insisted.

  “A sore point. I suppose I am—or was. This body isn’t human—the mind is. As for the personality—perhaps it was human once.”

  “You are an android, then, of sorts? ”

  “Of sorts. I was originally a soldier—a gunner in the Lim-Sect forces during the Last Wars. I was born in 2439. I was captured in 2487.”

  “More than five hundred years ago. 2487—that was the year Krau-Sect was defeated.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, I was not repatriated. I was one of several guinea-pigs assigned to the research unit directed by Olono Sharvis. When it was evident that Krau-Sect would soon capitulate, Sharvis and his team fled. It was an unpleasant journey—particularly for us. Three of the seven patients had to be destroyed en route.”

  “You came to Klobax? ”

  “Not at first. There was a long search for Sharvis and his team, I gather. In those days if they had been caught they would have been killed on the spot. Krau-Sect’s war-policies were somewhat fierce, as you may have read—in its bid to take over Earth, it tried everything it could. After all its basis was the vast munitions plant on which the firm had been founded—and it was perfectly equipped. The other giant capitalist organisations were horrified and their vengeance took the form of almost absolute annihilation of Krau-Sect and its employees. It was the finish of them all, of course, in the end. The organisations were so depleted that Paseda’s party was able to establish control over them, put everything under the State and abolish the money-system— you are familiar with all this, I know. The point is that Lim-Sect, or Jona-Fac, or any of the others would have found Sharvis and company eventually, only they had to return to Earth and try, unsuccessful, to stop Paseda’s coup. Sharvis’s huge lab ship stayed in space until things died down. In that time, he continued his experiments until only I was left. Obviously he didn’t know whether I was immortal or not at that time. As far as he was concerned, it was an achievement to have me alive—space does not offer the best conditions for careful experimentation. While he waited for me to show some signs of longevity, he turned to his assistants and began to work on them. Two died—and the rest left him.

  “After a time, we arrived on Klobax. The ship contained everything he needed to build laboratories, using the natural resources of the planet. He taught me everything I could learn about his work. Then, having operated on him, I was sent out to spread the good news— immortality for all.”

  “You operated on him? You could have killed him! ”

  “He took a simple precaution. The entire laboratory would have exploded if he had not revived in a given time. Only he knew how to operate the doors. I would have died, too. At that time, I did not want to die.”

  “But you do now. Why didn’t you tell anyone of what Sharvis could give them? What was the flaw? ”

  “There was no flaw, really. No single flaw at any rate. The simple fact is that immortality—at least the kind Sharvis gave to me—robs you of your humanity. You become immortal—but there is no longer any point in being immortal.”

  Marca pondered this. “But Alodios—? ”

  “Alodios is different. Evidently Sharvis’s sense of humour got the better of him. Sharvis, incidentally, does not seem to have been changed much by his immortality —he was inhuman to begin with. But he is like a man with a disease who wants everyone to have it. I realised this after he had released me. I said nothing. A year or two later I made my first attempt to kill myself, but Sharvis had been cunning.”

  “He made you invulnerable? ”

  “More than that—he built into me a survival mechanism which makes it impossible for me to put myself in any danger for any length of time.”

  “I noticed your reactions were inordinately fast—is that why? ”

  “That’s why.”

  Marca was in a graver mood now. He wondered how much of what Take said was really true. Evidently the man was sincere—but he could only talk about his own condition. Perhaps others were affected differently by immortality?

  “May I ask you what you want immortality for? ” Take said.

  “It’s hard to remember, in a way,” Marca said quietly. “When the news of the imminent destruction of the galaxy came, I was panic-stricken. I realised that I was a member of virtually the last generation of mankind. I felt I had to do something about it. I felt that I must find a way of living at least right up to the end, and perhaps, after it. I felt I must make sure of missing no experience. And that meant I must find immortality. But now that I’m close to finding it, I don’t know— you’ve frightened me, Take.”

  “I’m glad.”


  “Somewhere I seem to have lost track of my original aims. The original situation that made me seek immortality no longer exists, yet here I am, still looking for it.”

  “I assure you, Clovis Marca—it is not worth having.”

  Marca shrugged. “I would like to find that out for myself.”

  “What do you intend to do? ”

  “I’ll go and see Sharvis, talk with him, then ask him ...”

  “No! ” Take stepped forward. “Once you’re in there, he’ll never let you go until he’s passed the disease on! Don’t you see—Sharvis is absolutely evil. If you don’t think that what he did to me was bad—then look again at Alodios! ”

  “You have no proof that Sharvis did this, or that it was deliberate.”

  “I have seen other subjects Sharvis has experimented on. It was deliberate. He could not make that kind of mistake now! You think my experiences may have clouded my judgment—something like that? If only I could describe—find words—to tell you what Sharvis is really like.”

  But Marca felt detached. He said remotely: “Nonetheless, I will pay Sharvis a visit.”

  Take lunged forward, arms outstretched and, before Marca realised it the android had hurled him over the cliff.

  He fell rapidly and the realisation of his imminent death came moments later. He felt fatalistic. The air was blasted from his lungs. And then he realised that he need not die. He squeezed his gravstrap. Immediately he slowed down and floated gently towards the ground. More pressure on the strap and he was rising again. He opened the kit-box and unclipped the hypo-gun. With this in his hand, he came level with the cliff at Take looked over it.

  He pressed the gun’s stud and the needle-thin jet, pumped at tremendous pressure, caught Take on his thigh. But it did not penetrate. Take stepped backwards.

  “You cannot harm me, Clovis Marca. I wish that you could.”

  Marca landed on the cliff, close to the immobile Alodios. “Why did you try to kill me? ”

  “It was an act of mercy. Once you were in Sharvis’s power, you would never have escaped. Have I made my point—will you still continue? ”

  “The only point you have made is to prove yourself a madman, unable to act rationally. How can I believe you? ”

  Take turned and walked into Alodios’s hut. Wanting an answer, Marca followed him. Inside, Take looked at an unfinished mobile. Behind it were several paintings. On a desk were notes, figurines. In a corner was a jumble of equipment — sculpture’s tools mainly — a welder, electro-knife, pieces of metal. Sight of it only made his memory of Alodios’s tormented eyes stronger and more horrifying.

  Take stopped and picked up a piece of worked metal from the pile. It was thin and long. One end broadened into an oddly graceful design. One side had an edge to it.

  “Take—why not come with me to see Sharvis? You know his weaknesses, what sort of trick he might play. Wouldn’t that be a good compromise. Your advice would be of use . . . ”

  “I would only return there to destroy him if I had the means,” Take stepped forward, his body moving so rapidly that it was almost a blurr to Marca. He swung the metal around. Marca felt it bite into his neck—and then he was dead.

  Take stopped and picked up the blood-stained piece of metal. “I’m grateful for the second opportunity, Clovis Marca. And I am sure you would have been, too.”

  eleven Resurrection

  The wreckage shone and vibrated still, but it was tangled, useless, torn down by a thousand hands. Fastina stared at it heavy-hearted. They had destroyed Narvo’s transmitter.

  Narvo himself was in hiding, declared a traitor by Aimer’s new government. She was ignored, though Aimer had proposed to her twice since he had been elected—by a popular vote—to his position of First Citizen of Earth.

  In some ways she had welcomed this decisive move— because at least Earth had a leader it felt confident in. But now Aimer had begun turning away the refugees from the outer planets and, panic-striken, the refugees were banding together, threatening to establish themselves on Earth by force if necessary.

  In fact, for the first time in 500 years, the unthinkable threatened to become reality—throughout the Earth, across the worlds, there was talk of violence and vengeance, and everywhere were the unmistakable indications of a war about to boil. Five hundred years of peace had not been sufficient, after all, to make people forget how to dispute without recourse to war.

  And if a war developed, as she could see it would, who would continue the work on Pluto and Mercury? Would the victors have the resources afterwards? She could see, clearly, that if war did come about, then humanity’s chances of survival would become even smaller than they were at present.

  She climbed into her air carriage and drifted upwards, away from the shining wreckage.

  On her advice, realising that he had no support, Narvo had moved his house to the Atlantic. Nearly all 30th century houses were designed so that they could be sited on a sea-bed if the owner felt like it. Now it was proving useful.

  Her aircar was also designed for use under water. As she flew over the ocean, she blew out the necessary code on her sonarkey and the car’s force-bubble enclosed it. She headed down into the water.

  Once beneath the surface, she felt safer. Although there was quite a lot of submarine traffic these days, they were off the routes. Only a careful search of die whole Atlantic sea-bed would find them and she felt that Aimer hadn’t the time to make such a search. She was wrong. Soon after she had entered the water, another large car followed her.

  Green, cool and silent, the water-depths drew her down. Only here was there still peace to be found. On the surface of Earth all was disharmony and disruption.

  She soon found Narvo’s house and in a few moments was steering her car through the lock. As the water was pumped out, Narvo opened an inner door and greeted her with a smile.

  “Have they started a transmission yet? ”

  She felt it was better to give him the news directly. “They have smashed it, Narvo.”

  “Smashed it? But why? ”

  “I didn’t seek a logical reason—they just smashed it. That is what is happening. It isn’t merely that they’re destroying things like your transmitter—they’re destroying less tangible but even more important things—they’re destroying the only civilised society in history that has achieved peace and sanity.”

  He put his arm round her shoulder. “ No need to sound so melodramatic, my dear. It is difficult to see things in perspective, you know. This may be just a phase. Aimer, after all, is not a self-seeker, he believes himself right in doing what he is doing.”

  “Neither were Hitler, Rickhardt, Vinor, Krau-Boss self-seekers in the sense you mean, but nonetheless ...”

  He led her to a chair and made her sit down. “We must try to remain calm, objective—we—” He looked up. “I heard something—as if another car was entering the airlock. It can only be a friend. I’ll go and see who it is. Wait here.”

  But she waited nervously in spite of his confidence. She heard low voices for a few moments and then there was silence again. She got up. As she walked along the passage towards the airlock, she heard it open. Another arrival? She reached the door. An indicator showed her that the water was only just beginning to be pumped away. For a moment she knew that something was drastically wrong, but she could not understand what it was. Then she knew.

  Narvo was still in the airlock. It meant only one thing.

  It meant that he was dead. Andros Aimer, or his deputies, had murdered Narvo Velusi.

  In his last microsecond of life, Clovis Marca had known that he was finished, yet now he was conscious. Had Take somehow misjudged the blow? Or was he dead? He seemed to be drifting, highly aware of his own body-bulk, in spaceless infinity. He became frightened suddenly and kept his eyes tightly shut. He remained like that for hours, it seemed, then he opened them, curiosity fighting off his fear.

  In front of him something crystalline winked and shimmered. Beyond
the crystal, a shape moved, but he did not know what the shape was. He turned his head. More crystal, dim outlines behind it. He moved a leg and his body turned slowly. He was completely surrounded by crystal. Attached to his mouth was a muzzle of some kind and leading off it were several thin tubes which seemed imbedded in the crystal.

  He stretched out his hand and touched the irregular surface of the crystal. It tingled slightly. The muzzle stopped him from speaking, but he managed a muffled murmur.

  Far, far away, a voice said softly, “Ah good, you will be out of there soon now.”

  Then Marca fell asleep.

  He woke up and he was lying on a couch in a small, featureless room. It was warm and he felt very comfortable. He looked around, but couldn’t see a door in the room. He looked up. There were indications that the room’s entrance was in the roof directly above the couch, he could make out thin indentations, square in shape.

  He swung himself off the couch. He felt very fit. But he wondered if he were a prisoner here. He had a feeling that he was being observed. Perhaps the walls of his room were transparent from the outside. He noted that he was dressed in a one-piece garment of soft, blue material. He touched his neck, where Take’s improvised cleaver had caught him. He felt something there—scar-tissue perhaps. It went round his neck in a regular line.

  It felt strange to have been dead and knowing, now, that someone had found him in time and managed to revive him permanently. Normally, it was a very hard job to replace a head and only a few surgeons had the necessary combination of skill and equipment to do it.

  Olono Sharvis. It could only be the immortal scientist. But how?

  A voice like the hiss of Eden’s serpent filled the room. “If you will return to the couch, I will tell you. It is not in my nature to withhold from people what they want to know.”

  Marca obeyed the voice. As soon as he was on the couch, it began to rise towards the ceiling and the ceiling opened out to let it pass. Now he was in a far larger room, a room adorned with fluorescent walls of a multitude of constantly changing colours. The walls moved like flame and dimly lighted the room.