Young Bleys - Childe Cycle 09

by Gordon R. Dickson

  She got up, opened a flap in the counter and let him through, then pointed to an open doorway through which he could see a gym. He went in. Inside, he saw a glassed-in office to his left, with Antonia Lu sitting behind it. Looking up and seeing him coming, she rose to meet him.

  She looked at him with a small, ironic grin, as they clasped hands.

  "I must admit," she said, "I wasn't expecting anyone as tall as you. Well, come with me, and I'll show you around."

  He followed her to one of the mats where a pair of students were down on the mat itself, and grappling. Just as Bleys and Antonia got to them, they broke loose, both got to their feet and they started over again.

  "Any match is decided on points," Antonia said to Bleys, as they watched. The two ended up on the mat again. "For example, the student with his back to us now would get a certain number of points for that take-down; since he initiated it and ended up on top of Dick, his opponent. Of course, the match can also be won by pinning your opponent's shoulders to the mat and holding him there for five seconds. Otherwise they wrestle for three three-minute rounds with a one-minute rest in between, and the match is decided on points."

  The two in front of them had once more broken loose from each other and gotten back to their feet. Bleys watched, fascinated, as the same man took his partner down.

  "I think I'd like to see as many take-downs as possible," said Bleys.

  "In that case," answered Antonia, "as soon as any pair are down on the mat look around for another pair that's on their feet and watch. I'll leave you to it for the moment."

  Bleys took her advice and she went back into her office.

  After about ten minutes she came out again, to find him watching now a pair of wrestlers that were on the mat and working steadily there to achieve a position on top from which a pin could result.

  "I see you're not watching take-downs exclusively anymore," said Lu.

  "No," answered Bleys, with his eyes still on the two on the mat in front of him, "these two are the best, here."

  "You can tell that, can you?" said Antonia. "Yes, they're both seniors and my star pupils. They'll be wrestling on the varsity team in a couple of months when the colleges start competing against each other for this year."

  She looked up at him curiously.

  "Have you decided that you might like to try getting on the mat with one of my students, now?"

  "One of these two, if you don't mind," said Bleys.

  She hesitated, but only for a second.

  "All right," said Antonia; "you'll have to wait until their current bout is over, then I'll ask for you. And you'll have to take those shoes off."

  Bleys had been wearing a pair of running shoes, which were not exactly appropriate for the gym, but at least could do its wooden surface no harm. He bent down, untied them and kicked them off.

  When the break came and the bout ended between the two who had been wrestling, he was ready to step on the mat. Antonia put a restraining hand on his arm.

  "Let them catch their breath first. I suggest you try Anton, the blond-haired one there. Anton, will you come over here, please?"

  The young man she had spoken to came to them.

  "Anton, this is Bleys Ahrens. As soon as you feel ready for it, he'd like at least a three-minute round with you; if that's agreeable to you. He's never done our kind of wrestling before, although he's had training in the martial arts—"

  She looked up at Bleys.

  "—Which of course he won't be allowed to use here. Bleys Ahrens, note that points are taken from you if you use any of the blows or throws that you may have been taught. In our wrestling you mustn't take your opponent's feet off the ground."

  "I'd guessed that," said Bleys.' "I think I know what the limitations are. But if I make a mistake Anton can simply tell me—won't you, Anton—?" He let Anton's unknown name hang on a note of query.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," said Antonia. "Anton Lupescu, this is Bleys Ahrens, as I said. Bleys is merely a student of martial arts generally, Anton, he's not connected with the college here."

  "That's true," said Bleys. He clasped hands with Anton. "Honored."

  "And I likewise." Anton grinned. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance. Also I'd be glad to wrestle Bleys Ahrens." "Thank you," said Bleys.

  He could see Anton's eyes measuring his height advantage and considering how to deal with it.

  After a few moments, they faced each other on the mat. In imitation of what he had seen, Bleys put his right hand on Anton's shoulder and grasped the other's elbow with his left. Anton reciprocated.

  It was, Bleys thought, even as he was doing it, absurdly easy and almost unfair. He took Anton down right away, with himself on top, and pushed his stomach out as Anton exhaled for a moment, so that the pressure of his lower body against Anton's diaphragm made it almost impossible for Anton to breathe.

  After struggling breathlessly for about twenty seconds, Anton gave up and made an attempt to break loose, which Bleys let him do.

  They got back to their feet, took hold of each other's shoulders and elbows again; and once more Bleys immediately took Anton down and tied him up with legs and arms so that the other was once again immobilized and forced to break loose to get a new start.

  By the time the first three minutes of the round was up, they had gone through this process five times.

  "I think that'll be enough," said Antonia, who had stayed to watch, with Anton's former opponent standing fascinated beside her. "You'll have learned as much as you needed to know, haven't you, Bleys Ahrens?"

  "Yes," said Bleys.

  "No!" protested Anton. "Let me go the full distance with him, Toni. I'm sure I can get him."

  "I don't think so," said Antonia Lu decisively. "Go back to your regular practice with Dick, there. Bleys Ahrens, will you come with me?"

  She led him into her office and closed the door so that they could not be overheard outside. She turned to Bleys.

  "You know," she said, "I don't know whether to describe what you did as cheating or not. There's nothing in the rule book against it; but effectively you're giving Anton something he had no hope of handling. Those were restrained katas you were using to take him down, weren't they? And you were holding back so that he went down with his feet on the floor, rather than being thrown down. Weren't you?"

  "You're right," said Bleys.

  "I won't ask you any personal questions about your background," said Antonia, "but you've evidently had a good deal of rather high-level training in your martial arts. I think if you're going to practice on anyone, you'd better find someone besides my pupils. Would you mind telling me what you wanted this experience for?"

  "It's a personal and somewhat secret matter," said Bleys; "effectively, I may have to appear like a country kid who learned to wrestle the way it was done in the countryside, as he was growing up."

  "Hmm," said Antonia. "I won't ask you any more; but I will say that you're almost doubly unfair, both with your height and reach and being experienced in the fighting methods you know. You're sure you don't want to tell me any more than that?"

  Bleys shook his head.

  "But thank you very much for letting me learn what I did today," said Bleys.

  "Not at all," said Antonia. She offered her hand once more, and he clasped it. "I have to admit that you've got my curiosity roused."

  "Maybe someday I can satisfy it," said Bleys.

  Her hand felt very warm and pleasant in his and he was conscious of a desire to hold it longer. Then he remembered how his path led forward in life; and how it could never be other than a solitary path. If he had ever encountered any woman he had wanted to see again it was the woman before him. But that was the dangerous part of it. He dare not.

  "—Though," he added, a little belatedly, "I'm afraid the odds are against being able to do so."

  Their hands parted, they smiled at each other; and Bleys went out, back to his autocar, leaving both her and the gym behind.

  CHAPTER 33


  He programmed his autocar to take him, not directly back to the apartment, but to the office. There, he spent a little over an hour going through all the messages from off-world that had come for him since he had last been there. There was no word from Dahno on Earth. But there were a number of messages from each of the leaders in charge of Other organizations on all the worlds he had visited.

  Uniformly, they reported the beginning of a recruitment of Other cross-breeds, and, with growing astonishment, reported also how many other things now were possible to them, now that they were getting the extra personnel. Of course, those other things were still in the planning stage.

  The newly-recruited mixed-breeds would have to be trained; and Bleys was pleased to see that they had not picked any beyond the age of forty, since it would be hard to put people that old or older into a new way of life. The time might come when they would be able to use the older ones too; but that time would have to wait until they were more firmly in control, on the various worlds.

  As for the original leaders, the very fact that they had worked this wholeheartedly proved his original belief that they were ambitious. Bleys had shown them the way to greater positions of power, and barring the unforeseen, they were his now.

  He coded messages to all of them now, alerting them to a meeting of the Vice-Chairmen on a world other than their own. They would be notified which world in due time. Meanwhile, they should be ready to leave at a moment's notice; and he encouraged them to keep on with what they were doing.

  This much done, he sat back for a moment in his chair. He had bet a great deal on the fact that the first and most senior trainees that Dahno had sent out had all been recruited on Association. Either by birth and upbringing, or by upbringing alone, they very much had a Friendly attitude toward humanity in general and society at large.

  It was that, and their obvious ambition, he had been counting on when he had recommended that all of them stay in the positions of authority in which he found them. There might, in fact, be better leaders than they among those they were recruiting now.

  But he wanted these firmly indoctrinated with the new life to which he intended to put all of them.

  It was, after all, something that rang very close to the Friendly attitude in all their churches, that anticipated an eventual time when all humanity would be worshipers. They were on a new track now; and anyone, even Dahno, would find it hard to switch them back off it, onto his original aims for them.

  He left the office and went back to the apartment. The day was darkening into twilight outside when he left the autocar at his apartment building, and went up to the apartment itself.

  He made himself a light dinner, then gave his mind a holiday, letting it roam through a number of the books on poetry and prose he was always accumulating. Books that contained no information in any way connected with what he was faced with at the moment; but which were full of the magic of art that fascinated him.

  Eventually he went to bed. As he lay there, he found himself thinking of Antonia Lu; and to put her from his mind he deliberately envisioned once more his original familiar image of himself as far out in space, isolated, looking at all the worlds and all humanity over a great span of space and time.

  There was a cold sort of comfort in this lonely image. It took him away from all other things and reminded him that the minutes of his life were ticking away, and nothing must be wasted.

  Somewhere along about this time he drifted off into sleep, and the image of himself apart and dedicated in a finite and understandable universe became a dream of that same image.

  Only, in the dream, there was a difference. Dreaming, he could not pin it down, but somewhere on the edge of his dream there was something unclear. Something unknown that did not seem important in itself, yet somehow concerned him. Unless he had made some kind of mistake, nothing should threaten to mar the image of the future to which he had committed himself. In his dream, he told himself that what bothered him was an illusion; but still it seemed to maintain its place, until at last he fell into deeper slumber and forgot about it.

  When he woke the next morning, he had breakfast, and dressed himself very much as he had been dressed when he had gone to visit the church run by Samuel Godsarm. But he made slight differences. His clothes were not quite so ill-fitting, his shoes were not quite so cracked and old. They showed a certain amount of care, in spite of their age; so that, over all, he gave the impression of not being quite at such loose ends as he had been when he had gone to the church.

  He took an autocar to within a few blocks of the hotel that was the headquarters of Darrel McKae and his organization, and walked the rest of the way.

  At the door of the hotel itself the doorman looked warily at him, but let him in. He noted a couple of men in city clothes, but with the suntans of those who had lived most of their life in rural areas, lounging about the steps. These considered him closely as he went in.

  Within he went up to the desk, produced the letter Samuel Godsarm had given him and explained why he was there.

  The clerk behind the desk sent him over to sit and wait in the lobby lounge, and he did so, refusing the voice that spoke to him over the annunciator in his small chairside table, that offered him something to eat or drink. A moment later, the clerk came over and handed him a work application blank; which he filled out under the name of Bleys MacLean, with Henry listed as his father, Joshua and Will as his brothers. After about an hour, the clerk called him from behind the desk, took the filled-out form and handed him a badge and a key.

  "The key is for the special tower elevators," the clerk said. "Take one of them to the top floor and show your badge to whoever you meet when you step off the elevator."

  "Thank you," Bleys said to him. But the clerk had turned away and did not bother to answer. Bleys crossed the lobby, conscious of a number of other men and women lounging around in seats and at the small tables where late breakfasts were being eaten, who looked closely at him as he passed. He put his key in the elevator, its doors opened and he stepped inside.

  The silent elevator whisked him up some forty stories. When he stepped out of the elevator he was confronted by two men almost as tall as he, and outweighing him by anywhere from twenty to forty pounds apiece. Without a word, Bleys handed over Godsarm's letter.

  One of the two took it wordlessly. He carried it off while the other stood with his arms folded, facing Bleys. He showed no animosity, only alertness.

  He stood squarely and his balance was good, thought Bleys. But folded arms were not the most sensible position to be in, if you really had to defend yourself against a skilled opponent. That, and a general feeling that he got from the other man, made Bleys feel that he would have no trouble with this particular guard, if it was a situation in which just the two of them were concerned. After a few minutes the other guard returned and beckoned with his head. Neither of the two men had yet said a word to Bleys.

  Bleys followed the guard who had beckoned with his head, and the other stayed at the elevator. Bleys made no attempt to look as if he was in any way dangerous; but, at the same time, he also made no attempt to look particularly impressed by what was around him.

  Bleys was led from the lobby in front of the elevators into a typical hotel corridor, and at the end of it they stopped before a door that was also typical; but Bleys noticed that it was at the very end of the corridor; and deduced that beyond it there was not simply a single room, but a suite, since the large luxury suites were normally found in the position where they could have at least two windowed walls.

  "Boris," said his guide to the door, after knocking lightly at it.

  There was a second or two of delay, then the door swung open. Boris put his hand on Bleys' back, lightly directing him through the doorway.

  They stepped, as Bleys had expected, into the spacious lounge of what must be one of the hotel's most luxurious suites. The furniture, however, had obviously been altered from what was customary. There were several armchairs along the side wa
lls. But the main piece of furniture in the room was a large desk, behind which sat Darrel McKae.

  He was wearing ordinary gray trousers and a light blue shirt. A black cape was thrown over the high back of his chair.

  "All right, Boris," said McKae. Close up, his voice had a curious ringing quality that might have something to do with the effectiveness of it when he had been making the speech Bleys had heard. "Stand over there by the door. Just wait."

  Boris disappeared from Bleys' field of vision. Bleys himself stood alone on the far side of the desk looking across it at McKae. The desk itself was covered with paper, but on top of everything there, and right in front of McKae, was Samuel Godsarm's letter that Bleys had carried. Its seal was broken and it had been unfolded for reading.

  "Bleys MacLean," said McKae, looking up at him.

  "Yes, Great Leader."

  "I've just been talking to Samuel Godsarm on the phone," said McKae. "I see he didn't exaggerate your size. But I'm a little at a loss as to why he thinks you might be particularly valuable to me here. Suppose you tell me all about going into his church, from the time you first entered until he sent you off to me."

  Bleys did so, using simple but straightforward language.

  "And it was after you preached and told the congregation what I had said on the floor of the Chamber," said McKae, after Bleys was through, "that he decided to write this letter?"

  "Yes, I think he made up his mind then," said Bleys; "he could see how deeply I'd been moved by you, watching from the visitors' gallery and listening to you."

  "Tell me," said McKae, "I take it your sermon was well received by the congregation?"

  "I think so, Great Leader," said Bleys, "but it was my repeating to them the words of your speech on the floor that moved them most deeply. I don't believe they'd been so moved in their lives."

  "You must have rendered it well," said McKae, smiling a little. Unexpectedly the smile became a friendly one, only for Bleys. "I suspect Samuel of worrying you might be a better preacher than he. Perhaps he was more interested in getting rid of you, than sending me someone who might be of use. On the phone he told me you'd grown up on a farm and that your father kept goats. Where was this?"