The Two Worlds

by James P. Hogan

  "At once, General," jevex acknowledged.

  In the communications room in Connecticut, Hunt turned his head toward Verikoff, who was watching from the doorway. "You'd better come on in. It looks as if you'll be on again in a few seconds to accept the surrender. It's just about all over." Verikoff moved to the center of the room while the others fell back to clear a small circle around him. On the screen showing the Jevlenese War Room, Wylott and Broghuilio had turned to look directly out at the room and were waiting expectantly for jevex to make the connection. Verikoff folded his arms and assumed a domineering posture in readiness.

  And suddenly the screen went blank.

  Puzzled looks appeared all around the room. "visar?" Hunt said after a few seconds. "visar, what's happened?" There was no reply. The screens that had been connecting them to Thurien and the Shapieron had gone blank as well.

  Verikoff moved quickly over to a bank of equipment on one side of the room and ran rapidly through a sequence of tests. "It's dead," he announced, looking up at the others. "The whole system is dead. We don't have any channels to anywhere, and I can't open any. Something has cut us off from jevex completely."

  In the Government Center at Thurios, Caldwell was equally bewildered. "visar, what's happened?" he demanded. "Where did the views from Earth and Jevlen go? Have you lost them or something?"

  A few seconds went by, then visar answered. "It's worse than that. I haven't only lost Connecticut and the War Room, I've lost everything from jevex. I don't have anything into it at all. The whole system has switched off."

  "Don't you know anything that's happening at Jevlen at all?" Morizal asked, aghast.

  "Nothing," visar said. "The only channel I've got to anywhere in the whole of the jevex-controlled world-system is the one through to the Shapieron. jevex seems to be dead. The whole system has just gone down."

  Broghuilio found himself reclining in his private quarters deep underground in the complex that housed the Directorate of Strategic Planning. He sat up sharply, unsure of what had happened. A moment before he had been in the War Room with Wylott, waiting for a connection to Verikoff. Even as he remembered, he saw again in his mind's eye the armada from Earth, at that moment sweeping inward toward Jevlen. He looked around wildly. "jevex?"

  No response.

  "jevex, answer me."

  Nothing.

  Something cold and heavy turned over deep in his stomach. He leaped to his feet, fumbled his way into a robe to cover his shorts and undershirt, and hurried into the next room to check the status indicators of the suite's monitor panel. Lighting, air conditioning, communications, services . . . everything had reverted to emergency backup mode. jevex was not operating. He tried activating the communications console, but the only thing he could raise on the screen was a message stating that all channels were saturated. It meant that the condition was general and not due simply to some local failure; the complex was in panic. He rushed through into his bedroom and began frantically tearing clothes out of a closet.

  He was still buttoning his tunic when a tone sounded from the outside door in the hallway. Broghuilio hastened out and pressed his thumb against a printlock plate to dematerialize the door. Estordu was there with two other aides. The sounds of shouting and commotion came in from behind them.

  "What's happened?" Broghuilio demanded. "The whole system is dead."

  "I deactivated it," Estordu told him. "I threw the manual override breakers in the master nucleus control room. I've shut jevex down totally."

  Broghuilio's beard quivered, and his eyes widened. "You what—" he began, but Estordu waved a hand impatiently to silence him. The gesture was so out of character that Broghuilio just stared.

  "Can't you see what's happened?" Estordu said, speaking rapidly and urgently. "jevex was not functioning coherently. Something was affecting it from the inside. It could only have been visar. Somehow visar gained access to it. That meant that the Thuriens could have been watching every move we made. We still have twelve hours, and if we move quickly we can still get away. We still have emergency communications channels to Uttan, and the standby transfer system can project an entry port to Jevlen. With jevex inoperative and visar therefore blind, we can make our arrangements without risking interference from the Thuriens or the Terrans. The nearest Terran ships are still twelve hours away. By the time they get here we can be gone, and they'll have no way of knowing where to. By the time they think of looking for us at Uttan, we will be well prepared. Don't you see? It was the only way. With jevex running we couldn't have planned a move without them knowing."

  Broghuilio thought rapidly as he listened. There was no time for arguing, and anyway, Estordu was right. He nodded. "Everyone with their wits about them will go physically to the War Room," he said. He looked at Estordu. "Find Lantyar and tell him I want five reliable crews mustered and brought to Geerbaine by eighteen hundred hours today. You . . ." He directed his gaze at one of the two aides standing behind Estordu. "Contact the operations commander at Geerbaine and tell him I want five E-class transports ready for launch not one minute later than then, and power standing by on-line at Uttan to project ports as soon as the transports clear Jevlen." He gestured to the other aide. "And you, find General Wylott and tell him to mobilize four companies of guards and organize air transportation from here to Geerbaine, ready to leave by seventeen thirty hours. I'll need capacity for two thousand persons. Commandeer it from wherever you need to, and don't hesitate to use force. Do you understand?" Broghuilio straightened his collar and went back through to the bedroom to buckle on his belt and sidearm. "I am going to the War Room now," he called out to them. "The three of you will report to me there not later than one hour from now. Do as I say, and this time tomorrow we will all be on Uttan."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The Shapieron had moved closer to Jevlen to await the arrival of the Ganymean ships from Thurien, which had begun moving inward from the edge of the planetary system but were still many hours away. The main screen on the Command Deck was showing views of Jevlen's surface being sent back from probes at lower altitudes. The planet seemed to be in chaos. Nothing was flying anywhere, but in many places people had begun leaving the cities on foot and in disorderly streams of ground vehicles that had soon jammed solid on highway systems never intended for more than minor local or recreational traffic. Disturbances and rioting had broken out in a few places, but in most the populations were merely assembling in the open spaces, leaderless and bewildered. Communications traffic from the surface was garbled and revealed no organization for maintaining order or vital services. In short, the Ganymeans were going to have a big job on their hands putting the pieces of the mess together again.

  Garuth was tense and apprehensive as he stood in the center of the Command Deck taking in the reports. visar had not crashed jevex, so the culprit had to have been the Jevlenese themselves. Somehow they had discovered they were the unwitting objects of surveillance through jevex, and had shut down the system to blind visar to what they were doing. In other words they were up to something, and there was no way of knowing what. Garuth didn't like it.

  The other thing that was bothering him at a deeper level was the feeling that he had failed. Despite the reassurances of Eesyan, Shilohin, Monchar, and the others that his bringing the Shapieron to Jevlen had saved Thurien, Garuth was acutely conscious of how near to disaster he had brought them, and that only the fast action of Hunt and the others on Earth had saved things. He had risked his crew and Eesyan's scientists irresponsibly, and others had bailed him out. Yes, the threat to Thurien had been removed; but Garuth didn't feel he deserved very much credit for that. He would have liked to have contributed more and the congratulations that had poured through from Thurien had only added to his discomfort.

  On a smaller screen to one side, Hunt was talking over his shoulder to the others who were crowded into the room in the Connecticut house that had been the headquarters of the Jevlenese operation to infiltrate Earth. "Can you imagine t
he problems we might have created for lots of people on this planet in years to come?"

  "What do you mean?" the voice of Norman Pacey, the American government representative, asked from somewhere in the background.

  Hunt half turned to wave at the screen in front of him. "One day people might be sending their kids to college on Thurien. Suppose the kids figure out this stunt for themselves and start calling home collect."

  After jevex had gone off the air and shut down the communications facility, the group in Connecticut had reestablished contact by the simple expedient of telephoning the control room at McClusky and linking back into visar via the databeam to the perceptron. They had called on two lines from the datagrid terminals in Sverenssen's office, next door to the communications room, and had one screen to the Shapieron and another to the Government Center at Thurios.

  "I still don't believe it," the CIA official, Benson, said from a chair by a window, partly visible over Hunt's shoulder. "When I see somebody picking up the phone and calling talking computers in an alien spaceship out at some other star, I don't believe it." Benson turned his head to address somebody offscreen. "Jeez! The CIA should have had something like this years ago. We could even have tuned into what you guys were talking about in the men's room inside the Kremlin."

  "I think the days of that kind of thing will very soon be over, my friend," a voice replied from somewhere in an accent that Garuth assumed was Russian.

  It would have made no difference if they were physically present in the Shapieron, he thought to himself. They would banter and laugh in the same way whatever the risks and whatever the unknowns. They could try, fail, forget, laugh, and try again—and probably succeed. The thought that they had been within a hair's breadth of disaster didn't trouble them. They had won the round, now it was dismissed and in the past, and their only thoughts now were for the next. Sometimes Garuth envied Earthmen.

  zorac spoke suddenly. Its tone was urgent. "Attention please. There is a new development. Probe Four has detected ships rising fast from the surface on the far side of Jevlen—five of them in tight formation." At the same instant the view on the main screen changed to show the curving, cloud-blotched surface of the planet with five dots creeping across the mottled background.

  On the auxiliary screen Hunt was leaning forward while others crowded behind him. They had stopped talking. An adjacent screen showed Calazar and the observers at Thurios, all equally tense.

  "It has to be Broghuilio and his staff," Calazar said after a few seconds. "They must be making a break for Uttan. Estordu said they've got a standby transfer system that operates between Jevlen and Uttan. That's what they've been planning! We should have thought of it."

  Eesyan had joined Garuth in the center of the Command Deck. Shilohin, Monchar, and some of the scientists were gathering around from the sides of the room. "They have to be stopped," Eesyan said, sounding worried. "They could have Uttan prepared and defended as a fallback base. If they reach it and regroup, they could decide to fight it out. It would only be a matter of time before they realized that we don't have anything to challenge them with. With Uttan in their hands, we'd be in real trouble."

  "What is Uttan?" Hunt asked from the screen.

  Eesyan turned away from Garuth and answered in a faraway voice as he tried to think. "An airless, waterless ball of rock on the fringe of Jevlenese space, but very rich in metals. The Jevlenese were granted it long ago as a source of raw materials to build up their industries. It's obviously where their weapons came from. But if what we suspect is right, they've turned the whole planet into a fortified armaments factory. We've got to prevent Broghuilio's getting there."

  While Eesyan was speaking to Hunt, Garuth quickly reviewed what he could recollect of the Thurien h-transfer system. visar or jevex could jam h-beams projected into their respective regions of space by virtue of the dense networks of sensors they possessed, which enabled them to monitor the field parameters of a transfer toroid just beginning to form, and disrupt the energy flow through from h-space. Without the sensors, jamming wouldn't work. But the only sensors that existed in the vicinity of Jevlen were jevex's and visar would not be able to use them since it could only do so through jevex, and jevex was dead. Hence a beam from Uttan couldn't be disrupted by visar. So that was why the Jevlenese had shut down the system.

  "There's nothing we can do," Calazar was saying from the other screen. "We haven't got anything near there. Our ships are still eight hours away at least."

  An agonized silence fell on the Command Deck. Calazar was looking helplessly from one side to another about him, while to one side of him Hunt and the Terrans on Earth had frozen into immobility. On the main screen the five Jevlenese vessels had cleared the edge of the planet's disk.

  A feeling of composure and confidence that he had not known for a long time flowed slowly into Garuth's veins as the situation unfolded in sudden crystal clarity. There was no doubt about what he had to do. He was himself again, in control of himself and in command of his ship. "We are right here."

  Eesyan stared for a second, then turned his head to gaze uncertainly at the five dots on the main screen, now diminishing rapidly into the starry background of space. "Could we catch them?" he asked dubiously.

  Garuth smiled grimly. "Those are just Jevlenese planetary transports," he said. "Have you forgotten? The Shapieron was built as a starship." Without waiting for a response from Calazar, he raised his head and called in a louder voice, "zorac, dispatch Probe Four in pursuit immediately, recover deployed probes, lift the ship into high orbit, charge all onboard probes for maximum range, and bring the main drives up to full-power readiness. We're going after them."

  "And what will you do then?" Calazar asked.

  "Worry about that later," Garuth replied. "The first thing is not to lose them."

  "Tally ho!" zorac cried, mimicking a flawless English accent.

  Hunt sat up and blinked in astonishment on one of the screens. "Where the hell did it pick that up?" he asked.

  "Documentaries of World War II British fighter pilots," zorac announced. "That was for your benefit, Vic. I thought you'd appreciate it."

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Broghuilio stood on the bridge of the Jevlenese flagship and scowled while the technicians and scientists clustered around a battery of datascreens in front of him took in the details of the report coming through from the long-range scanning computers. Gasps of disbelief sounded among the rising murmur of voices. "Well?" he demanded as his patience finally exhausted itself.

  Estordu turned from the group. His eyes were wide with shock. "It can't be possible," he whispered. He made a vague gesture behind him. "But it's true . . . there's no doubt about it."

  "What is it?" Broghuilio fumed.

  Estordu swallowed. "It's . . . the Shapieron. It's pulling away from Jevlen and turning this way."

  Broghuilio stared at him as if he had just gone insane, then snorted and pulled two of the technicians out of the way to see the screens for himself. For a second his mouth clamped tight, and his beard quivered as his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing. Then another screen came to life to show a magnified view from the long-range optical imagers that left no room for dissent. Broghuilio spun around to glare at Wylott, who was watching numbly from a few feet back. "HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS?" he shouted.

  Wylott shook his head in protest. "It can't be. It was destroyed. I know it was destroyed."

  "THEN WHAT IS THAT COMING AT US RIGHT NOW?" Broghuilio whirled to the scientists. "How long has it been at Jevlen? What is it doing here? Why didn't any of you know about it?"

  The captain's voice came from the raised section of the bridge above them. "I've never seen acceleration like it! It's vectoring straight after us. We'll never outrun it."

  "They can't do anything," Wylott said in a choking voice. "It's not armed."

  "Fool!" Broghuilio snapped. "If it wasn't destroyed, it must have been transferred to Thurien. And Terrans could have been tran
sferred to Thurien. So it could have Terrans on board it with Terran weapons. They could blow us apart, and after your bungling, the Shapieron's crew won't lift a finger to stop them." Wylott licked his lips and said nothing.

  "Stressfield around the Shapieron building up rapidly," the long-range surveillance operator called from one of the stations above. "We're losing radar and optical contact. H-scan shows it's maintaining course and acceleration."

  Estordu was thinking furiously. "We may have a chance, Excellency," he said suddenly. Broghuilio jerked his head around and thrust his chin out demandingly. Estordu went on, "The Ganymean ships from that period did not possess stressfield transmission correction, and h-scan equipment was unknown. In other words they have no means of tracking us while they're under main drive. They'll have to aim blind to intercept our predicted course and slow down at intervals to correct. We might be able to lose them by changing course during their blind periods."