Signed by me, SHOR NUN, this thirty-second day after landing.
UNANIMOUS REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE OF PAREETH ON THE FIRST EXPEDITION TO THE PLANET RHTH
The Committee of Pareeth, after due consideration of the reports of Folder Ri 27-56-! i, entitled “Interstellar Exploration Reports, Expedition I” do send to commander of said expedition, Shor Nun, greetings.
The committee finds the reports highly satisfying, both in view of the successful nature of the expedition, and in that they represent an almost unanimous opinion.
In consequence, it is ordered that the ships designated by the department of engineering plan as numbers 18834-18846 be constructed with such expedition as is possible.
It is ordered that the seven thousand six hundred and thirty-eight young people be chosen in the manner prescribed in the attached docket of details.
It is ordered that in the event of the successful termination of the new colonizing expedition, such arrangements shall be made that the present decadent inhabitants of the planet Rhth shall be allowed free and plentiful land; that they shall be in no way molested or attacked. It is the policy of this committee of Pareeth that this race shall be wards of the newly founded Rhth State, to be protected and in all ways aided in their life.
We feel, further, a deep obligation to this race in that the archeological and anthropological reports clearly indicate that it was the race known to them as the city builders who first brought fire, the bow and the hammer to our race in mythological times. Once their race gave ours a foothold on the climb to civilization. It is our firm policy that these last decadent members of that great race shall be given all protection, assistance and encouragement possible to tread again the climbing path.
It is ordered that the first colony city on Rhth shall be established at the spot represented on the accompanying maps as N’yor, as called in the language of the Rhth people, near the point of landing of the first expedition. The nearby settlement of the Rhth people is not to be molested in any way, unless military action is forced upon the colonists.
It is ordered that if this condition shall arise, if the Rhth people object to the proposed settlement at the spot designated as N’yor, arbitration be attempted. Should this measure prove unsuccessful, military penalties shall be exacted, but only to the extent found necessary for effective action. The colonists shall aid in the moving of the settlement of the Rhth people, if the Rhth people do not desire to be near the city of the colonists.
In any case, it is ordered that the colonists shall, in every way within their aid, advance and inspire the remaining people of Rhth.
It is further ordered that Shor Nun, commander, shall be plenipotentiary representative of the committee of Pareeth, with all powers of a discretionary nature, his command to be military and of unquestioned authority until such time as the colony shall have been established for a period of two years. There shall then have been established a representative government of such nature and powers as the colonists themselves find suitable.
It is then suggested that this government, the State of Rhth, shall exchange such representatives with the committee of Pareeth as are suitable in the dealings of two sovereign powers.
Until the establishment of the State of Rhth, it is further ordered that ——
IV
The grassland rolled away very softly among the brown boles of scattered trees. It seemed unchanged. The city seemed unchanged, floating as it had a thousand thousand years halfway between the blue of the sky and the green of the planet. Only it was not alone in its opalescent beauty now; twelve great ships floated serene, motionless, above its towers, matching them in glowing color. And on the low roll of the hill, a thirteenth ship, gray and grim and scarred with eighteen years of nearly continuous space travel, rested. The locks moved; men stepped forth into the light of the low, afternoon sun.
To their right, the mighty monument of the city builders; to their left, the low, rounded domes of the great race’s descendants. Ron Thule stepped down from the lock to join the eight department commanders who stood looking across toward the village among the trees.
Shor Nun turned slowly to the men with him, shook his head, smiling. “I did not think to ask. I have no idea what their life span may be. Perhaps the man we knew as Seun has died. When I first landed here, I was a young man. I am middle-aged now. That time may mean old age and extinction to these people.”
“There is one man coming toward us now, Shor Nun,” said Ron Thule softly. “He is floating on his—what was that name?—it is a long time since I heard it.”
The man came nearer leisurely; time seemed to mean little to these people. The soft, blue glow of his suit grew, and he moved a bit more rapidly, as though conscious of their importance. “I—I think that is Seun,” said the archeologist. “I have seen those pictures so many times—”
Seun stood before them again, smiling the slow, easy smile they had known twelve years before. Still he stood slim and straight, his face lined only with the easy gravings of humor and kindliness. He was as unchanged as the grassland, as the eternal city. The glow faded as he settled before them, noiselessly. “You have come back to Rhth, Shor Nun?”
“Yes, Seun. We promised you that when we left. And with some of our people as well. We hope to establish a colony here, near the ancient city; hope some day to learn again the secrets of the city builders, to roam space as they once did. Perhaps we will be able to occupy some of the long-deserted buildings of the city and bring life to it again.”
“A permanent colony?” asked Seun thoughtfully.
“Yes, Seun.”
“There are many other cities here, on this planet, nearly as large, equipped with all the things that made this city. To my race the quiet of the unstirred air is very dear; could you not as easily establish your colony in Shao—or Loun—any of the other places?”
Shor Nun shook his head slowly. “I am sorry, Seun. We had hoped to live near you, that we might both discover again those forgotten secrets. We must stay here, for this was the last city your people deserted; here in it are all the things they ever built, the last achievements of the city builders. We will aid you in moving your colony if you wish, to some other meadowland near the sea. All the world is the same to your people; only this city was built in this way; it was the last to be deserted.”
Seun exhaled softly, looked at the ten men of Pareeth. His mind seemed groping, feeling for something. His deep blue eyes misted in thought, then cleared slowly as Ron Thule watched. Slowly, they moved from man to man of the group, pausing a moment at the anthropologist, catching Shor Nun’s gaze for an instant, centering slowly on Ron Thule.
Ron Thule looked into the deep eyes for a moment, for a long eternity—deep, clear eyes, like mountain lakes. Subtly, the Rhthman’s face seemed to change as he watched the eyes. The languor there changed, became a sense of timelessness, of limitlessness. The pleasant, carefree air became, somehow—different. It was the same, but as the astronomer looked into those eyes, a new interpretation came to him. A sudden, vast fear welled up in him, so that his heart contracted, and a sudden tremor came to his hands. “You have forgotten—” he mumbled unsteadily. “Yes—but you—”
Seun smiled, the firm mouth relaxing in approval. “Yes, Ron Thule. That is enough. I sought your mind. Someone must understand. Remember that only twice in the history of our race have we attempted to alter the course of another’s history, for by that you will understand what I must do.”
Seun’s eyes turned away. Shor Nun was looking at him, and Ron Thule realized, without quite understanding his knowledge, that no time had elapsed for these others. Now he stood motionless, paralyzed with a new understanding.
“We must stay here,” Seun’s mind voice spoke softly. “I, too, had hoped we might live on this world together, but we are too different. We are too far apart to be so near.”
“You do not wish to move?” asked Shor
Nun sorrowfully.
Seun looked up. The twelve great interstellar cruisers hovered closer now, forming, almost, a roof over this conference ground. “That would be for the council to say, I know. But I think they would agree with me, Shor Nun.”
Vague pictures and ideas moved through their minds, thoughts emanating from Seun’s mind. Slowly, his eyes dropped from the twelve opalescent cruisers to the outstretched palm of his hand. His eyes grew bright, and the lines of his face deepened in concentration. The air seemed to stir and move; a tenseness of inaction came over the ten men of Pareeth and they moved restlessly.
Quite abruptly, a dazzling light appeared over Seun’s hand, sparkling, myriad colors—and died with a tiny, crystalline clatter. Something lay in his upturned palm: a round, small thing of aquamarine crystal, shot through with veins and arteries of softly pulsing, silver light. It moved and altered as they watched, fading in color, changing the form and outline of light.
Again the tinkling, crystalline clatter came, and some rearrangement had taken place. There lay in his hand a tiny globe of ultimate night, an essence of darkness that no light could illumine, cased in a crystal surface. Stars shone in it, from the heart, from the borders, stars that moved and turned in majestic splendor in infinite smallness. Then faded.
Seun raised his eyes. The darkness faded from the crystal in his hand, and pulsing, little veins of light appeared in it. He raised it in his fingers, and nine of Pareeth’s men fell back. Ron Thule looked on with frozen, wooden face.
A wave of blue haze washed out, caught and lifted the men and carried them effortlessly, intangibly back to the lock, through the lock. From the quiet of the grassland they were suddenly in the steel of the ship that clanged and howled with alarms. Great engines bellowed suddenly to life.
Ron Thule stood at the great, clear port light of the lock. Outside, Seun, in his softly glowing suit, floated a few feet from the ground. Abruptly, the great atomic engines of the Pareeth shrilled a chorus of ravening hate, and from the three great projectors the annihilating beams tore out, shrieking destruction through the air—and vanished. Seun stood at the junction of death, and his crystal glowed softly. Twelve floating ships screamed to the tortured shriek of overloaded atomics, and the planet below cursed back with quarter-mile-long tongues of lightning.
Somewhere, everywhere, the universe thrummed to a vast, crystalline note, and hummed softly. In that instant, the green meadowland of Rhth vanished; the eternal city dissolved into blackness. Only blackness, starless, lightless, shone outside the lock port light. The soft, clear note of the crystal hummed and beat and surged. The atomic engine’s cry died full-throated. An utter, paralyzed quiet descended on the ship, so that the cry of a child somewhere echoed and reverberated noisily down the steel corridors.
The crystal in Seun’s hand beat and hummed its note. The blackness beyond the port became gray. One by one, six opalescent ships shifted into view in the blackness beyond, moving with a slow deliberation, as though forced by some infinite power into a certain, predetermined configuration. Like atoms in a crystal lattice they shifted, seemed to click into place and hold steady—neatly, geometrically arranged.
Then noise came back to the ship, sounds that crept in, afraid of themselves, grew courageous and clamored; pounding feet of men, and women’s screams.
“We’re out of space,” gasped Shor Nun. “That crystal—that thing in his hand—”
“In a space of our own,” said Ron Thule. “Wait till the note of the crystal dies down. It is weakening, weakening slowly, to us, but it will be gone, and then—”
Shor Nun turned to him, his dark eyes shadowed, his face pale, and drawn. “What do you know—how——”
Ron Thule stood silent. He did not know. Somewhere, a crystal echoed for a moment in rearrangement and tinkling sound; the universe echoed to it softly, as the last, faint tone died away.
“Shor Nun—Shor Nun——” a slow, wailing cry was building up in the ship. Scampering feet on metal floors became a march.
Shor Nun sobbed once. “That crystal—they had not lost the weapons of the city builders. Space of our own? No—it is like the sorgan: It rotates us to the end of time! This is the space we knew —when all time has died, and the stars are gone and the worlds are dust. This is the end of the nothingness. The city builders destroyed their enemies thus—by dumping them at the end of time and space. I know. They must have. And Seun had the ancient weapon. When the humming note of the crystal dies—the lingering force of translation——
“Then we shall die, too. Die in the death of death. Oh, gods— Sulon—Sulon, my dear—our son——” Shor Nun, commander, seemed to slump from his frozen rigidity. He turned abruptly away from the port light toward the inner lock door. It opened before him suddenly, and a technician stumbled down, white-faced and trembling.
“Commander—Shor Nun—the engines are stopped. The atoms will not explode; no power can be generated. The power cells are supplying emergency power, but the full strength of the drive does not move nor shake the ship! What—what is this?”
Shor Nun stood silent. The ship thrummed and beat with the softening, dying note of the universe-distant crystal that held all the beginnings and the endings of time and space in a man’s hand. The note was fading; very soft and sweet, it was. Through the ship the hysterical cry of voices had changed; it was softening with the thrum, softening, listening to the dying thread of infinitely sweet sound.
Shor Nun shrugged his shoulders, turned away. “It does not matter. The force is fading. Across ten million years the city buildings have reached to protect their descendants.”
The note was very low—very faint; a quivering hush bound the ship. Beyond the port light, the six sister ships began to move again, very stealthily away, retreating toward the positions they had held when this force first seized them. Then—
Shor Nun’s choked cry was drowned in the cries of the others in the lock. Blinding white light stabbed through the port like a solid, incandescent bar. Their eyes were hot and burning.
Ron Thule, his astronomer’s eyes accustomed to rapid, extreme changes of light, recovered first. His word was indistinct, a cross between a sob and a chuckle.
Shor Nun stood beside him, winking tortured eyes. The ship was waking, howling into a mad, frightened life; the children screamed in sympathetic comprehension of their elders’ terror.
White, blazing sunlight on green grass and brown dirt. The weathered gray of concrete, and the angular harshness of great building cradles. A sky line of white-tipped, blue mountains, broken by nearer, less-majestic structures of steel and stone and glass, glinting in the rays of a strong, warm sun with a commonness, a familiarity that hurt. A vast nostalgia welled up in them at the sight——
And died before another wave of terror. “Darun Tara,” said Shor Nun. “Darun Tara, on Pareeth. I am mad—this is mad. A crazy vision in a crazy instant as the translating force collapses. Darun Tara as it was when we left it six long years ago. Changed—that half-finished shed is still only three quarters finished. I can see Thio Roul, the portmaster there, coming toward us. I am mad. I am five light years away——”
“It is Darun Tara, Shor Nun,” Ron Thule whispered. “And the city builders could never have done this. I understand now. I——”
He stopped. The whole great ship vibrated suddenly to thwang like the plucked bass string of a Titan’s harp. Creaks and squeals, and little grunting readjustments, the fabric of the cruiser protested.
“My telescope——” cried Ron Thule. He was running toward the inner lock door, into the dark mouth of the corridor.
Again the ship thrummed to a vibrant stroke. The creaking of the girders and stakes protested bitterly; stressed rivets grunted angrily.
Men pounded on the lock d
oor from without. Thio Raul, Ton Gareth, Hoi Brawn—familiar faces staring anxiously in. Shor Nun moved dully toward the gate controls——
V
Shor Nun knocked gently at the closed metal door of the ship’s observatory. Ron Thule’s voice answered, muffled, vague, from beyond.
The commander opened the door; his breath sucked in sibilantly. “Space!” he gasped.
“Come and see, come and see,” the astronomer called softly.
Shor Nun instinctively felt his way forward on tiptoe. The great observatory room was space; it was utter blackness, and the corridor lights were swallowed in it the instant the man crossed the threshold. Blackness, starred by tiny, brilliant points, scattered very sparsely, in every direction.
“Seun took the telescope, but he left me this, instead. I understand now; he said that only twice had they attempted to alter a race’s history.
“This is space, and that is Troth, our own star. Watch—”
The star expanded; the whole of this imageless space exploded outward and vanished through the unseen walls of the observatory. Troth floated alone, centered in the invisible room. Seven tiny dots of light hung near it, glowing in its reflected light.
“And that is our system. Now this is the star of Rhth—”
Space contracted, shifted and exploded, leaving one shining, yellowish star, attended by five brightly visible worlds.
“The other planets are too small or too dimly illumined to see. When I came there was a new system displayed. This one.”
Another planetary system appeared.
“That is the system of Prothor.”
“Prothor!” Shor Nun stared. “Five and a half light years away—and planets?”
“Planets. Uninhabited, for I can bring each planet as near as I will. But, Shor Nun”—sorrow crept into the astronomer’s voice— “though I can see every detail of each planet of that system, though I can see each outline of the planets of Rhth’s system—only those three stars can I see, close by.”
Adventures in Time and Space Page 6