But Sargon shouted at them. “Look! As you persist in seeking the answers to the Unknown, so shall you be sent into it-into the Abyss, from which there is no return! Thus the discontented and the trouble-makers shall die! Look, I said"
And the squad of Navigators with him sprayed the Passengers with pain ray until they looked. By the time Nad's party looked up, there was nothing much left to see. A frozen splatter of blood on the outer surface of the Door, and beyond-mystery of mysteries, especially to Nad-was the gaping opening into the Abyss.
Out there was gray-black nothingness. Why? What was it? Was it only another type of wall, a wall of endlessness beyond impenetrable walls of metal? Walls of cryosite, resistant to the terrific blows of meteors from the Abyss. Walls of emptiness and the Unknown. Walls of the mind. Seek not! Know not! Obey and be content-or die like Gradon, one of the finest men Nad had ever known.
As some of Gradon's closest friends cried aloud in their bereavement, the outer door to the Abyss closed, and Sargon and his men moved toward Nad's group. Nad knew this was not without premeditation, for Sargon had evidenced a marked interest in Lylwani for some time.
As Lylwani stepped close to Nad, and Ron and Yldra stepped deferentially aside to make way for Sargon, Nad's lifelong frustration and indignation burst their bonds. He stepped in front of Sargon and deliberately blocked his path.
Nad was tall, lean, tense and white. His gray eyes met Sargon's black stare unwaveringly. Sargon was slightly taller, broader of shoulder, and thicker in the limbs and neck. His reddish complexion deepened visibly in sudden rage, and his thick, leonine mane of jet-black hair seemed to bristle.
“Well, idiot!” he snapped. “Step aside! Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"
“Yes,” replied Nad, in a strangely subdued tone of voice, “I have learned my lesson. You have all the advantages and we have none. I only intend to make a constructive suggestion, with your permission."
Ron whimpered in his fright and tugged at his brother's arm, but Nad waved him back, impatiently.
“It had better be constructive,” warned Sargon. “Speak, man! We haven't got all day!"
One of the other Passengers, an old, gray-haired man with pale blue eyes and a leathery skin, crowded close to listen as Nad spoke.
“The occasional trouble you experience with us Passengers would be eliminated,” Nad said, “if you simply gave us more information. For instance—"
“Information!” shouted Sargon. “There is no information! This is the world in which you were born, and here you will live and die! Why must you grow discontented when you are adequately supplied with food, clothing and shelter and entertainment without having to work for it? Here there are only seven thousand of you, with kilometers of spacious room in which to live and play. Yet you complain! You do not trust the Navigators upon whom your life and welfare depends. It is because of this ungratefulness on your part that we have lost patience with you, and these disciplinary measures will continue to be taken until you accept the advantages with which you have been provided! What more do you want!"
“Sargon,” said Nad, unmoved by this tirade, “do you know your own father?"
“Of course, stupid! I—” Then Sargon bit his lip and he reddened visibly. He had been tricked into an admission he would not have made otherwise.
“You see, that's the difference between the Navigators and the Passengers,” said Nad, rapidly. “We don't know who our parents were, and parents can't recognize their own children. The only reason I call Ron-E-251-P my brother is because you have told me he is my brother, and that was perhaps unintentional on your part. You Navigators have memory. You have deprived us of that so that we will forget. Forget what, Sargon? What is it you Navigators are so afraid that we will remember?"
Sargon's big fists clenched. “Shut up!” he blurted out. “Do you want what Gradon got?"
Nad heard other Passengers gasp in alarm. Lylwani called out his name pleadingly and Ron ran away, taking Yldra with him. But the old man with the pale blue eyes drew even closer as he watched Nad.
As Sargon advanced slowly upon him and Nad slowly gave way before him, the latter continued. Now that he had started he could not stop himself.
“Our language is filled with strange words that we use without realizing their full significance,” he said rapidly. “Why do you say ‘day’ or ‘night’ or ‘month’ or ‘year'? What is the true meaning of these strange divisions of time where time never varies? You say that here there are only seven thousand Passengers. Are there more elsewhere? What is a Passenger, actually, other than a man or a woman who is not a Navigator and who is forbidden to enter section N or M?
“Why is it such an advantage not to have to work? Did Passengers work before? At what-and where? These walls that separate us from the Abyss were made by men. What was here before men knew enough to make them? Why are we three distinct types of people? There are the pale, blue-haired ones, such as Yldra V-57-P, and there is a second kind, like myself and my brother, who have the letter E attached to our names. Then there is the third type, like Lylwani here, with a pinkish complexion and jet-black hair like yours. You are Sargon M-13-NT and she is called Lylwani M-781-P. Your kind has the letter M attached to all your names. You say this is our natural world in which we have been born, yet you have also mentioned the ‘growing problem’ of inbreeding. I have heard the Navigator medicos remark that my brother's club foot is the result of the problem. I can only conclude that our present state is not a natural one, but rather—"
At that moment, Sargon struck Nad with all his might, and he went down hard on the metal floor with blood spurting from his lower lip. Lylwani dropped instantly beside him.
“I let you talk,” said Sargon, “so that you would incriminate yourself completely. You will be executed, of course."
“Why!” cried Lylwani, rising quickly to her feet and facing him. “His crime is only recognizable in relation to arbitrary opinion on your part! What good will it do to destroy him, too? A thousand more will ask the same questions!"
Sargon's thick lips curled in amusement as he surveyed the lithe young woman before him, but secretly he admired again, as he had so often in the past, her long, raven-black hair lying. across her shapely pink shoulders, and he hungered for her full, young lips while he thrilled at the fiery spirit that stared at him out of her dark green eyes.
“Don't get yourself in trouble, too, beautiful,” he said. “Take him away and get out of my sight, both of you!"
“But will he be executed?” Lylwani persisted, as Nad rose slowly to his feet.
Sargon raised his thick brows as though surprised by the question. “Naturally!” he said. And then he walked away with his men.
“Oh Nad! Nad!” cried Lylwani, throwing her arms around his neck. “I couldn't live without you! They can't kill you! They can't!"
Nad was apparently oblivious to all this. He did not feel the many sympathetic hands that touched him or hear the voices of the Passengers as they crowded thickly about him. His gray eyes only stared at Sargon's receding back.
“If anything will preserve me,” he said, wiping more blood from his lip, “it will be hate-and the will to live until my hands have closed around Sargon's fat neck. They won't be able to take me until I have done at least that!"
* * *
CHAPTER II
In the high arching tube ramp that crossed above the great Recreation Center, Ron and Yldra hurried toward their own section, where they knew at least Lylwani would eventually return. A quarter kilometer below them, through the transparent metal floor of the tube, they could see over a thousand Passengers returning listlessly to their amusements, some bathing in giant pools of chemically treated water, others playing games or working out on exercise machines. Some Passengers flew transparent globes in changing formations far above the floor, engaging in an aerial game called three-dimensional chess. All around the gigantic chamber were countless observation tiers and refreshment mezzanines, where observers looked
down at the activities below or watched the aerial chess game. Ron and Yldra had seen all this for as long as they could remember. It was their unchanging world, without beginning or end.
In the middle of the ramp they were suddenly confronted by Krylorno, the poet, whose well-known poems had so often alluded openly to Yldra. Tall, lean, dark of complexion and extremely acquiline of feature, he deliberately blocked Ron's path, fixing his hypnotic eyes upon him. Behind him crowded a group of almost a hundred other Passengers, many of whom were relatively close acquaintances of both Yldra and Ron. They were of the younger set, mostly, and appeared to be emotionally geared to the strange fanaticism that lighted the face of Krylorno.
Krylorno, the silver-tongued, sneered at Ron. “Well, Club Foot, we saw your cowardly performance in the visiplates. Why did you desert your brother in the most heroic moment of his life? If he was moved to confront his tormentors at last, why did you not stand firm beside him instead of slithering away in the torrent of your fears? Can you name any valid reason for prolonging your meaningless existence? For what is left but the validity of heroism? Of what use is a groveling coward?"
Ron's thin face paled and he seemed to be on the verge of tears, but Yldra defended him.
“Have you not heard of instinct?” she said, in the soft, benevolent tones that were the reflection of her well-beloved personality. She smiled sadly as she continued. “Whatever life may be, we all have an instinct to cling to it, and in times of stress and terror this instinct of self-preservation is like a mother that defends its child against reason. Ron is not alone. I am confused as he is, and so, I am sure, are the rest of you. So give us peace and let us pass!"
“Wait!” persisted Krylorno, addressing her. “Why you care for this coward I cannot imagine, but if you do, then perhaps you would prefer to have him embrace the greatest advantage life can offer."
“And that is?"
“The single reality of death," he answered, solemnly.
Ron stared at Krylorno and trembled. Yldra's wondering gaze wandered from Krylorno's enigmatic face to the fanatic faces of his followers. Then she sought his eyes again.
“I do not understand,” she said.
Krylorno laughed. Suddenly, as he answered her, his voice deepened and seemed to fill the ramp tube.
"Oh Darkness that is Light!" he chanted.
"Oh mighty Judge that offers peace forever in abyssmal night!
"Oh Truth that gives me naked Nothing for falsely vested life,
"Where in an instant that is ever I may be free of Wrong or Right!"
He glared now at Ron and his voice crescendoed.
“Oh take me from this putrid shell,
“This delusion-veined mirror of life's hell,
“And swallow up the atoms of my being in the freedom of oblivion
"Beyond this dungeon cell!"
He grasped Ron's white tunic and pulled him close. “Do you understand me?” he asked.
“No!” Ron cried out. “You are insane! Let me go!"
“Krylorno!” Yldra exclaimed, separating the two. “Whatever are you driving at?"
Krylorno waved his hand at his followers. “We are all of the same opinion,” he answered. “Life is meaningless. We prefer death. It is the only truth we can conceive of. It is release from all torment and frustration. Why not join us?"
“You mean-mass suicide?” Yldra blanched swiftly and looked at her friends in alarm.
“Yes!” Krylorno triumphed. “Why not! It's painless in the disposal tubes. You enter the dumping locks, a valve is turned, and your worries are over. You explode out into the Abyss like Gradon did. There's nothing to it!"
Yldra's eyes glistened in her consternation. “But that's hideous! It's-it's rank insanity!"
“No!” exclaimed Krylorno. “It is ultimate intelligence! Do you think this empty farce of life without memory, freedom or reason is worth clinging to? Only in the clarity of approaching death can we appreciate the magnificence of our decision to die. In a few hours we will be one with the Abyss, so leave this limping coward to cling to his rag of an existence and join us in the glory of oblivion!"
At that moment, the sonophone beneath a nearby visiplate rasped into life, and a strange voice addressed specifically those who were gathered at that one location on the tube ramp. The voice was strange because it was obviously not that of a Navigator. All the Passengers had been trained throughout their lives to recognize the arrogant, dictatorial tones of the Navigators. This voice was kind, patient-even fatherly. Moreover, it activated only the single sonophone in their vicinity, leaving the visiplate blank, which was an unprecedented occurrence.
"Man has a magnificent purpose to accomplish in the living flesh,” the voice said. “We should be willing to accept death only when we have contributed all we can toward the accomplishment of that purpose. This purpose has been hidden from you by the Navigators who have robbed you of memory so that you would not revolt. It cannot be explained to you until you have been informed of many more facts for which there is no time at present.. But there is a purpose which you will only defeat by seeking death prematurely. You must be patient and cling to your lives as your most precious possession-until the time of liberation arrives..."
All present were too astonished to speak, except Krylorno. He stepped in front of the blank visiplate and said, “Who speaks to us of liberation without showing his face?"
Immediately, the two-way sonophone replied, "Your question must remain unanswered until the time comes. And if you truly seek an answer to your existence, if you wish for a real reason for living, and if you are desirous of a true, constructive change in your status of life, then tell no Navigator you have heard my voice-because otherwise they might subject you to the M-Ray again."
“What is the M-Ray?” asked Krylorno.
"It is that which they have used against you to rob you of memory. I can say no more, but I will contact you and certain other Passengers again. In the meantime, you may refer to me among yourselves as-X.'
There ensued a long moment of silence, after which Yldra found her voice and said, “Then it is as Nad suspected all along."
“What do you mean?” Krylorno asked her, staring at her intently.
“The Navigators are withholding knowledge from all of us. There is some greater meaning to all this other than just living and eating and sleeping and trying endlessly to amuse ourselves with senseless games.” Her dark eyes were wide with excitement. She turned to Ron and grasped his hand. “Let's see if we can find Nad,” she said. “We must tell him of this message. And you—” She stopped to look back at Krylorno. “Use that persuasive tongue of yours to keep us all together and alive. Do you think the Navigators would care if you committed mass suicide? They are only looking for excuses to reduce our numbers. Did you ever think that there are only a few hundred of them against thousands of us?
For once, Krylorno was at a loss for words. But Yldra's friends, and the others who had followed Krylorno raised a cheer for her.
“She's right!” they cried. “And so is X."
“Yldra,” said Ron, as he limped along beside her. “You are beautiful and intelligent. Why do you care for me?"
Yldra looked at him curiously. “Don't ask me to explain that, Ron,” she answered. “There is no explanation, except that-well, we've been together since as far back as I can remember. I-I don't know any other way of life."
“I love you, Yldra."
“You're sweet."
“I'm a worthless coward."
“You only imagine that you are. Come on! We've got to find Lylwani-and Nad, if he has not been arrested already.
* * *
CHAPTER III
Nad and Ron, like all other single, adult male Passengers, shared quarters with several other men. Each unit of this type consisted of ten private rooms with a common bath. Meals were taken in large mess rooms serving a hundred such units, so no unit could boast of its own dining room. However, common to each unit was a small recepti
on and recreation room where friends of both sexes could be entertained.
Yldra and Lylwani lived in a similar unit shared by single women. If a man and woman desired each other as mates, they found it necessary to adhere to a strict rule of the Navigators. They would apply to the authorities for permission to live together, and once this was granted there was seldom any permission given to separate again, chiefly because of the nature of the marriage process. Marriage was officially recognized when a pair authorized to live together produced a child, at which time they were considered to be bound together for life. Cohabitation was permitted for an indefinite period without children, and couples who had not reproduced were permitted to separate upon proper application to the authorities, although such a circumstance was rare. Only if they reproduced were they considered to be married and inseparable, however. Promiscuity was not permitted, entirely on the basis of practical rather than moral reasons.
It was in the recreation room of Nad's unit where Nad, Ron, Lylwani and Yldra contacted each other again, and Yldra told Nad about the mysterious voice. She had to speak in a very low tone because of the ever present sonophones. It would be practically suicidal, she knew, for them to let such talk be intercepted by the Navigators. Ron, as usual, was worried. He tried to take Yldra out of the room in case the Navigators suddenly decided to investigate.
But Nad detained him. “Not this time, Ron,” he said, grimly. There was a new, intense expression on his face. “We're all in this together. Whatever it is we're going to do we'll do together or die in the attempt! You'll stick with us now, every step!"
“But Nad!” Ron protested. “If we are arrested we'll not be able to do anything! Besides, what can we do even if we are not arrested for all this mysterious talk, or even if you are not executed as Sargon says you will be? What is our purpose or plan? What's it all about?"
“That's what I'm going to find out,” Nad replied. “I've got to find this ‘X’ person and work with him. If the price is my life or your lives, it's worth it!"
Martian Honeymoon and Beyond the Darkness Page 8