At this point, Ron buried his face in his hands. And Yiddir knew, at last, that he had driven his point home.
* * *
CHAPTER X
It required another week finally to eliminate their forward velocity. Yiddir handled the controls so expertly that they were without induced gravity for only a few seconds. Then acceleration took the place of deceleration and they were on their way at last toward their distant goal.
In the meantime, Yiddir and Karg both took note of Nad's frequent use of the telescope. Instead of the expression of awe and wonderment that was always to be seen in Karg's face when he used the instrument, Nad's face reflected nothing but cold, grim determination. For hours, his narrowed, gray eyes searched the limitless vastness, and the other men knew he was not looking for new stars. At other times he watched the meteor detector, continually adjusting it for :ultra-sensitivity, and yet they knew he was not trying to detect meteors. Then when the detection system failed momentarily owing to the intermittent short caused by the galactite, he would rush to the telescope and begin his vigil all over again.
Or at other times, Nad would try to be alone with Lylwani, awakening her personality slowly and painstakingly to a more complete awareness of their situation. At last she was completely rational, requiring only the continued process of education and training to bring her back to her former self.
Ron, too, showed some slow signs of progress, although he was still inarticulate. Sometimes Yiddir found him, too, at the telescope, and he reflected that curiosity was a sign of convalescence. He was even able to interest Ron in further training concerning space navigation.
Karg was all around handy man and dependable standby. He took complete charge of the converters and synthesized their food and water. Or at other times he would entertain them with his Martian querla, while Lylwani sang the songs he had taught her. Yiddir would sit silently meditating on the precarious future of a race of human beings that must originate from Nad and Lylwani-whom he considered in his mind as Adam and Eve.
* * * *
Such was their state of affairs when ultra-velocity was approaching again and Yiddir prepared to hurl them into the darkness that lies beyond the speed of light. They were two and a half light years from their goal.
As the stars began to fade slowly from view, Nad suddenly demanded a decrease of speed, for the sake of visibility. He had been at the telescope several hours.
“What's the matter?” Yiddir asked him, and Karg and Lylwani crowded close to see.
Nad's eye was at the eyepiece and he was silent for almost a minute.
“I lost it,” he said finally.
“Lost what?” Karg asked him.
Nad straightened up, his face slightly drawn with fatigue, and he brushed a mop of blond hair back from his forehead. “It might have been a meteor,” he said, “and yet its velocity seemed to be too great."
Yiddir's eyes narrowed. “In which direction was it traveling?"
Nad answered his look, significantly. “It was moving parallel to us and at about the same speed."
“How far away?"
Nad shrugged. “Who can tell? The detectors can't pick it up."
Karg addressed both Yiddir and Nad. “You think it could be—"
“Sargon?” said Nad. “I don't know."
“Who is Sargon?” asked Lylwani.
Nad looked at her with deep affection. He put his arm around her and drew her close to him. “I hope you never find out,” he said.
That day their little ship hurled into the great darkness—an infinitesimal mote dwarfed into virtual nothingness by the towering enigma of the dark nebula.
* * * *
Nad could not sleep. He lay in his bunk wide awake and tried to remember how long they had been traveling in the darkness of super velocity. Days? Weeks? Such units of time were almost without meaning in this terrible endlessness, and there was a year or a year and a half to go. Sometimes he had felt that the whole structure of his personality was going to slump suddenly into a shapeless puddle, because all the reasons which formed the props under his mental stability were but arbitrary synthesis, like the food that came out of the converters. But in such precarious moments he supported himself on two pillars of reality: his love for Lylwani and his hatred and suspicion of Sargon.
Against his fear that Sargon might really be out there trailing them swiftly through the darkness was balanced by the grim hope that he was there-that someday they would meet again and that he could rid himself of his bitterness by throttling his enemy forever.
Abandoning his attempt to rest, he finally got up and went forward to keep Karg company in the control room. When he arrived, however, he found the room empty. He looked at the instruments and found them steady. However, the pilot light over the meteor indicator was out again, as it had been of late with dangerous frequency.
Reasoning that Karg had gone to the observation bridge aft, he sat down idly at Yiddir's chart desk and puzzled over the star charts. Then he got up again and paced the room, a frown creasing his brow. Why was he so nervous? He tried to analyze himself. It was not just boredom. What was it?
Then he stopped dead still, eyes slowly widening with nameless apprehension. What was wrong?
The whole ship was too silent. He was accustomed to stillness out here in the void, but this was an absence of sound that pricked up the ears of instinct.
Swiftly, he went aft to look for Karg. The rear observation chamber was empty. He went to Yiddir's cabin and found him unconscious in his bunk, but as he shook him Yiddir slowly came to.
“I can't sleep,” Yiddir mumbled, “been awake for hours."
“But you were unconscious!” said Nad. “You look like you've been knocked out. No color in your face at all!"
“You're rather pale, yourself,” Yiddir replied, looking up at him curiously.
“Yiddir, something is wrong. I can't find Karg anywhere!"
The old man got up and accompanied Nad on a hasty tour of inspection. At last they found Karg. He was lying on the floor before the main hatch airlock, face down, a Disruptor clutched in one band. His black hair was matted with blood.
Silently, both men bent over him and made a quick examination. With a frenzied effort, Nad turned his friend over to look at his face. Yiddir lifted one of Karg's eyelids.
“He is dead,” he commented. “Someone Stun Rayed him and then hit him over the head. Nad,” he said, looking up gravely, “you and I were Stun Rayed while we slept."
Nad rose slowly, gathering a great breath into his lungs. Then he shouted, “Lylwani!” And he ran toward her cabin before Yiddir could advise him that her absence from the ship was the only possible deduction.
Weighted down by an awareness of ultimate tragedy, he sought the control room. The darkened pilot light over the meteor indicator confirmed his worst suspicions.
“She's gone! She's gone!” he heard Nad shouting to him.
Ron came reeling into the control room, his face white from the effects of the Stun Ray. In his eyes was one obvious question as he looked at Yiddir.
Yiddir replied, “Yes. It's happened. Sargon has struck at last, and Karg lost his life trying to oppose him."
Nad became ill with fever. For days he lay in his bunk, unable to eat or sleep, his eyes staring widely out of an ever thinning face. Sometimes he would talk or shout, as though in delirium. Yiddir doctored him as best he could, force feeding him at intervals, while he permitted the ship to hurtle onward through the darkness.
Ron's pale face remained absolutely expressionless, but a new purpose seemed to take hold of him. He, himself, manned the converters and took over most of Karg's old duties. At other times he would watch Yiddir for hours, mutely waiting for him to speak. There was no need to state the great question before them now. It was self-evident.
Without Lylwani, their expedition was futile, so why go on? Yet, why try to overtake either section of the fleet again? To what purpose? Was there a purpose at all?
Ro
n seemed to have a purpose, and he appeared to be waiting for Yiddir to perceive it and confirm its validity. But time passed. Many weeks passed, and Yiddir remained as inarticulate as Ron. Ron knew he was waiting for Nad to recover.
* * *
CHAPTER XI
Finally, Nad did recover but he appeared to have no will to live. When Yiddir thought he was strong enough, he at last voiced Ron's thoughts.
“There is only one thing we can do,” he said. “We must establish our base on the small planet as planned. From there we will attempt to find the system or systems I am really looking for. Once we have found a real group of worthwhile planets and established photographic proof of their existence, we will use our converted drivers and try to overtake the Government Fleet. We will contact only Nor E-I-M, of the flagship. With our proofs, if we obtain what I think we are going to find, the fleet will turn back."
“I suppose you realize,” said Nad, dully, “that it will take us a few more years at the least to acquire the proofs you want. By that time, to overtake either part of the fleet, even with your converted drive would occupy half a lifetime, if one survived madness and the increased danger of meteors."
“I admit that,” said Yiddir. “But what else have we three to live for?"
“Nothing. Sheer blank, nothing."
“Then I suggest we adhere to the plan I have outlined.""
“All right,” Nad replied. “I hope we can all cling to our sanity in the meantime."
Ron got to his feet and limped over to the control board. He examined the instruments with renewed interest...
* * * *
A year of darkness passed, during which time Yiddir began again to decelerate. This time he conditioned himself and the others to withstand a slowly increased deceleration rate until they were living under a very abnormal induced gravity. His object was to emerge from the velocity of darkness soon enough to leave a safe margin between them and the dark nebula.
But before they had quite emerged from the darkness, their meteor shield failed them once more, and this time a small meteor struck them squarely. The cryosite hull took the blow, but inertia resulting from their slight change of course came near to killing them. From that day forward, Yiddir's health began to wane as the result of internal injuries.
Furthermore, it was discovered that as a result of the collision with the meteor the controls to the drivers were severed, and all they had left were their decelerators.
“It will be necessary for one of us to go outside in a space suit and inspect the damage to see if it can be repaired,” Yiddir said. “I believe I am physically incapable of going out there, and Ron's bad foot may hinder him seriously. Moreover, I am not sure that he would be able to learn quickly enough what I'd have to teach him. Even if I did teach him, he would no doubt be terrorized by the experience. I'm afraid you're the only one who could do the job, Nad. We still have several months’ time while we decelerate, but by that time those controls should be repaired, or I'm afraid I won't be able to bring us safely in to our planet. I'll have to begin instructing you at once concerning what you're going to have to look for and possibly repair."
There was nothing else to be done. For seemingly endless weeks Yiddir instructed Nad, while Ron took over almost all the duties on board. In the meantime the stars reappeared and the dark nebula was apparently so close that it formed one side of the whole universe. The sun of the one-planet solar system they sought was still a star, but of the brightest magnitude in their region of space. In the telescope they could discern the tiny pinpoint of light that was their planet, but only for a short period of time while it was in full phase.
The chief problem was to decelerate fast enough to escape falling within the inimical influence of the nebula. Yet in Yiddir's condition no greater deceleration could be endured. In fact, Nad secretly decreased the deceleration rate sometimes when Yiddir fainted or dropped into fitful sleep. Inevitably, they came closer to the nebula than they had intended. Ron knew what was happening, because he had been a witness to Nad's special adjustment of these controls. Strangely, he showed no fear of the consequences. He was Nad's silent companion in all things now.
One day when Yiddir felt well enough to make observations he became greatly alarmed by their position. Already, some portions of the universe that had been plainly visible before were turning dim because they had penetrated the attenuated outer limits of the nebula.
“Nad, we can wait no longer,” he said. “You've got to go outside and see what you can do about those driver controls. Our course must be changed quickly or we will be at grips with unpredictable fields and extremes of gravity that may do us great harm or cause us to become lost irretrievably within the nebula."
So Nad donned his suit, picked up his tools and instruments and entered the main airlock, while Ron stood tensely by, watching with widened eves. But again Nad knew this was not fear. It was apprehension for his own safety. He waved at his brother reassuringly just as the outer door opened, exposing him to the vast Abyss. The rush of air out of the lock would have carried him into emptiness if it had not been for his magnetic traction produced by his shoes. Only then did he suddenly realize how alone he really was.
Before him, endless space yawned apathetically, coldly, and silence greater than he had ever known gripped him like the hand of Death. In spite of the grip maintained by his magnetic shoes, he had to struggle with giddiness and instinctive terror. Under Yiddir's guidance over the sonophone extension that he dragged behind him, he moved aft along the dimly glistening hull, like a deep-sea diver in a bottomless ocean.
For two hours, Nad worked in the damaged area of the drivers, relaying his observations to Yiddir. He cut open hard cryosite channels to get at control conduits, bridged damaged gaps with his instruments and waited for Yiddir's readings from the control panels inside.
Three times, Nad had to enter the ship and return to the outside, and thus another day passed, while they penetrated deeper into the nebula, and the stars became almost lost to sight. But now he was outside for the last time. This time he was finishing the job.
When Yiddir gave a cry of triumph and the drivers spit out a lightning blast in response to his controls, Nad knew his precarious work was done and he stood up, preparing to enter the ship again. Ron had entered a small observation dome in the center of the ship in an effort to watch Nad. From his position he could make out the dim outlines of the aft driver nacelles, and there he saw his brother trying to collect his tools, preparatory to re-entering the ship.
At that moment, a slight attenuation in the nebulous gas outside enabled Ron to discern something that was utterly incredible to him. Briefly he saw it, a great, shadowy outline that stood out clearly for one moment and then was gone again. A ship! A ship exactly like their own, drifting helplessly in the nebula!
Then he saw it again, this time much nearer. He could see its forward observation port, ablaze now with light, and a woman's face appeared behind it, peering out at him.
“Lylwani!” he thought, his mind reeling with astonishment.
But he was given little time for speculation, because in the same instant he saw a grotesque figure move on the exterior of the other ship's hull. Sargon, too, had come outside to effect repairs.
Just as the ships drifted within the influence of their mutual attraction, Nad straightened up and faced Sargon. Ron knew they were looking at each other and waiting for the two ships to come together. He also knew that Nad could not help seeing something else, something which must have made him go insane with rage and anguish. For just in the last brief moment of visibility, Lylwani could be seen very plainly in the observation port. In her arms was an infant child.
Ron saw both space-suited figures lunge toward each other, each with a blinding white cryosite torch in his hand, and then the curtain of the nebula suddenly engulfed the scene.
* * * *
Suddenly, Ron darted forward as fast as his club foot would allow, and he was just in time to stay Yiddir's h
and at the controls. If the drivers had been activated, the other ship might have been lost forever, and if Nad had stepped across to it they would have lost him, also.
Yiddir had felt the impact of the other vessel, but as he could not see it from his location he had no idea what it was. Then, to his wonderment, Ron momentarily found his voice.
“S-Sargon!” he said, hoarsely, with an almost superhuman effort.
"Sargon!" Yiddir's old eyes blazed with alarm.
Speech failing him again, Ron went through a frantic pantomime to show how the two vessels had come together and how Nad and Sargon had charged each other in mortal combat.
Hastily, Yiddir went to the central observation blister and tried to observe what was happening. But now the dark gases were too dense.
He could occasionally discern the shadowy outline of the other hull, plus a dim glow of light from the other observation port, but he could see nothing else. In fact, even that faded out as the two ships were carried into regions of maximum density.
He and Ron could only sit there and wait, well aware of the long pent-up emotions that were being unleashed out there in that precarious darkness. At any moment the nebula could throw them into a new spin and lose the other ship forever.
Yiddir asked Ron if he had seen any sign of Lylwani, and Ron nodded assent. He made a cradle of his arms and moved them back and forth, significantly.
“What!” Yiddir exclaimed. “She has a child?"
Again, Ron nodded affirmatively. Yiddir reflected that more than a year had passed since Lylwani's abduction. Terror gripped his heart to think that she and the infant were so close in this infinite emptiness and that one lurch of the ship could lose them forever. His heart was with Nad, too, in his understanding of what his emotions must be. He could not begrudge him the rage and anguish that had hurled him against Sargon.
But what of the outcome ? Suppose Sargon should win?
Just then there came to their ears the muffled sound of air compressors, and both of them knew that someone had entered the airlock. They ran to it without weighing the possible consequences.
Martian Honeymoon and Beyond the Darkness Page 14