New Writings in SF 29 - [Anthology]

by Edited By Keith Bulmer

  At last they emerged on the rim and the graceful curves of spectrumed crystal fell away on either side. They were standing on a frozen rainbow.

  Simde heard Noss’s voice in his helmet radio.

  ‘When I come here, I realize just how incomprehensible nature is, and yet I’m proud to be a minor part of the pattern. I often wonder if, a galaxy away, perhaps another being is gazing out at the stars and trying to make sense of it all.’

  As Noss began his inspection, Simde said, ‘Did you go to the healer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And?’

  Noss straightened up and looked at Simde.

  ‘I’ll stop soon. It could be now, tomorrow, but certainly not more than twenty days. They can’t do anything. I’ve caught some new variant of the disease, one that can remain undetected until it has a hold too strong to be broken. But I’ll not stop until I see the ship leaving on its journey and I know that I have done my work well.’

  * * * *

  The dark blaze of space and the timeless rainbow of crystal seemed to recede until Noss filled the whole of Simde’s vision. Pulses of memory beat across his mind, recalling things about Noss that he thought he had forgotten. There was nothing to say and Noss didn’t expect it. Everyone stopped. But Noss— And in this way. Simde felt a gout of hate against Irah, for having stopped Noss. The emotion faded at once. Hate had no comfort for Simde. He knew that Noss would not understand. Noss had no room in his heart for anything but love. For that reason alone he was vulnerable and would stop.

  Noss had moved along the crystal’s rim, leaving Simde behind. Almost as if he would read it, he knew what was in Simde’s mind. They had been friends and colleagues for a long time and had a fine comprehension of each other’s philosophies. He had no fear for Simde. Perhaps he should have some for himself. Was stopping so very bad, coming, as it did, at the culmination of his life’s work? For a man like him, it was a sound, logical conclusion. He had never maintained illusions about anything or anyone, except Irah. And even with her, after their first joining, he had felt briefly cheated. He had made a mistake and he would not compound it. Now the debt was due.

  Noss completed his inspection and went back to where he’d left Simde.

  ‘Everything’s all right. Let’s go home.’

  A wavering glimpse of colour reached Simde’s eyes. The planet was coming. Soon it would be at opposition and the venture would begin. He caught something of Noss’s perspective. Everything was all right. Noss, himself, the others: no one mattered. The drama would sweep them all along.

  * * * *

  Six

  The Judgment had been made and the Sentence passed. Now was the time to carry it out. Irah and the four men who had joined with her, stood within a circle of Custodians. Outwardly, she was the calmest of the group. Only her green eyes betrayed her turmoil. She stared impassively at the small square machine, sitting on a table flanked by two Custodians. A bright light shone down on the machine, casting the rest of the area in darkness. Behind the machine sat the High Custodian.

  The first man walked forward bravely. He was already as good as stopped, so what did this matter? He placed his hands in the slots in the machine and felt the clamps grip his wrists. The embrace was brief. When he was permitted to withdraw his hands, they looked no different. But the radiation had done its work of destroying the sensitive nerves of the sex and feeding digits. Before the Execution of Sentence, the five had been allowed to use a psycho-food plant. Now he knew that he had left to him thirty-one days, no more. The ultimate penalty had seldom been extracted, but no one had ever been known to last the full time. They always stopped themselves.

  The next two men were as brave as the first one. All three had gone so far in degradation and perversion that what awaited them was strangely fascinating and desirable.

  The fourth man was young, hardly more than a youth, without parents, and perhaps not as culpable as the others. At the Judgment, Irah had admitted freely that she had enticed him. The three older men agreed that they had persuaded and tricked the young man.

  The High Custodian had listened to all the evidence, of the other accused and the youth’s friends. He was still clean, untainted. However, the High Custodian, despite the stringent ethics of his position, had been determined from the outset to make an example of them all, without exception, and had sentenced them accordingly. There was no appeal. And there was only one way the Sentence of Execution could be commuted. Someone else had to offer himself, or herself, as a substitute.

  No one had offered. So now he was here, in the Hall of Execution of Sentence, about to face the machine. His legs failed him and two Custodians had to support him. One took his hands and was about to force them into the slots, when a voice told him to release the youth.

  * * * *

  Noss stepped past the Custodians. They didn’t know what to do. The ceremony of Execution of Sentence had never before been disrupted. From the shadows beyond the machine, the High Custodian demanded, ‘Why do you violate this ceremony, Noss Sidl?’

  ‘I have come to offer myself as substitute for him.’

  The intended victim had collapsed before the machine, too afraid to believe what he heard.

  ‘But his crime was against you.’

  Noss answered: ‘The Judgment was unjust and should never have been given.’

  The stopping of brain cells could have been detected in the Hall. There was nothing that the High Custodian could say. Noss’s action precluded comment.

  ‘He should not be here, awaiting Execution of Sentence. We are all guilty of what has become of our society, of which he is a product. We haven’t cared enough about other people, what they did, or thought. Perhaps it is not too late for someone to start caring. I offer myself as his substitute. Have I your permission?’

  It was a formality, and the High Custodian was reluctant to comply.

  ‘Because of what he, and they, have done, you will soon stop. This gesture will cause you great pain and discomfort for the remainder of your time.’

  ‘Thank you for your concern, High Custodian. It is my wish.’

  ‘So be it. Release the prisoner. It is recorded that Noss Sidl is his substitute. Do you wish to bond?’

  ‘I have no need of it, High Custodian.’

  ‘Then let Execution of Sentence proceed.’

  The young man tried to thank Noss, who said: ‘Make good use of your life.’

  Noss asked the High Custodian if he might talk to Irah and this was granted. She was a broken woman. When Noss appeared, she had hoped, in some twisted way, that he had come to substitute for her. Noss read it in her eyes. He extended his right hand. She faltered, then put out hers and their digits touched.

  ‘Had we been bound by hate, instead of love, I might have substituted for you, Irah, knowing what your life would have been, that of an outcast. But because I love you, I will not. I know that you understand. Come, we’ll go forward together. Let me help you.’

  She put her hand on his arm and they went to meet the machine.

  * * * *

  Seven

  Simde was anxious and angry when he heard of Noss’s sacrifice. He was concerned for his friend. The last days should have been as easy as possible. His anger was selfish and he didn’t try to hide it from himself. Although the first stage of the project was almost finished, and Noss had done all, and more, that was required of him, Simde thought of him as the essential spirit of the project, ensuring its success. It was irrational, but if Noss were to stop sooner because of what he had done - Simde didn’t want to think about it.

  There was a further complication, only in Simde’s mind. After the Execution of Sentence, Noss and Irah had gone back to live together. It was a sensible arrangement, the only one. At first, Simde didn’t want to concede that. He couldn’t understand why Noss could do that, why he didn’t hate Irah even a little. She had stopped him twice over.

  Simde and Atira were out on the terrace, watching the sun westering amid a
shoal of slow indigo and dull bronze clouds.

  Atira said, ‘Love is a much stronger and more destructive force than hate. Men can’t see that. Women can. Noss still loves Irah, so he has to destroy her in order to protect her.’

  She turned towards him. Lingering rays of sunlight enmeshed in her hair, framing with a halo her shadowed features, out of which her mauve eyes shone like twin stars.

  ‘Could you stop loving me, despite anything I might do to you? Noss and you are very much alike, although neither of you realizes it.’

  The sky was flushing with deep red and purple, shading into black. It was one of the few remaining sunsets they’d see on Hasub. Patterings of cold wind played across the terrace, making Atira shiver. Going indoors, they went to see the cubs, then retired to their own room.

  Deep in the soil, the food plant could feel the steady spread of the blight along its roots.

  * * * *

  Eight

  The time of the launch was drawing near. The days passed quickly for Simde, who was responsible for the final preparations. The ship was ready and the engines had undergone their last tests and would not be used again until landfall was made on the planet, which was now predominantly bright in the night sky.

  Simde and Noss were now almost constantly in each other’s company during working time. Noss had insisted on carrying out his duties. Surprisingly, he showed only slight changes, physically. But then, he was one of those people who altered little after attaining adulthood. Simde was always alert for some sign that his friend was weakening. Noss never gave him one. He accepted Simde’s attention in the spirit in which it was meant, and was tolerant. This was the one major part of Noss’s life that he hadn’t planned. It was very unfortunate that it was going to stop him, a much more painful stopping than he had anticipated. His agony was intense. And now that he had taken the youth’s Execution of Sentence, nothing the healers could give him would alleviate the pain. It would overcome him ultimately. But he was determined that he would not stop until he saw the ship leave orbit. So he drew on his last stores of energy and courage and husbanded them. And Simde received no sign.

  It was ironical to Noss that the time since he and Irah had taken the Execution of Sentence had been the happiest in their lives. After Noss returned from work, they spent the evenings together, discovering anew the pleasures of simple things. One day, Noss left the site and went home and took Irah to the lake. They walked along the beach, talking now and again, examining strange objects, letting their minds and bodies attune to the rhythms of nature.

  Irah, like Noss, had found strength and courage from within herself. It was more difficult for her. She was young. In that moment after Execution of Sentence, she had stared at her hands and, for the first time in her life, acknowledged that she would not still be here when the stars went out. Almost, that truth had stopped her on the spot.

  Then Noss had taken her hand and they had left the Hall and the High Custodian and the machine and gone home. Now, Irah lived every day as if it would be her last. Soon, one of them would be. Atira was always available if she was needed, although she had many preparations of her own to make, Irah was secretly pleased to discover that she didn’t need Atira as a prop and it raised her stature in her own eyes.

  Atira brought the cubs to see her and, while their visits recalled her own barrenness, she cherished the times she had with them. No one had told them about Irah. Simde and Atira had never even contemplated depriving them of their view of Irah and for that she was grateful. If only she and Noss—

  Noss had been talking to her and, in her reveries, she hadn’t heard him.

  ‘Are you back from wherever you were?’

  She smiled at him.

  ‘I was saying that this is where we’ll come on the day of the launch.’

  She looked directly into his eyes.

  ‘I know that already.’

  He halted.

  ‘How could you know, Irah? I’ve just thought of it.’ Irah shook her head and her hair swirled in the slow air.

  ‘No. Your mind has had this planned, perhaps for a long, long time. Now you’ve put it into words.’

  ‘How well you know me.’

  As they resumed their walk, neither voiced their thoughts on the outcome of their lives had they tried to know each other better.

  * * * *

  Nine

  Neri Falrac, the psycho-botanist, had arranged one more bonding with the ship’s food plant, three days before the launching. As on previous occasions, the travellers, after having been passed by the healers, were gathered aboard ship. Noss, who had come up on the shuttle with some of the people, was talking to Simde. He was going to the wheel for one of his inspections. Noss insisted that the regular inspections of everything associated with the project, as provided for in the original plan, be made. His insistence on preventive maintenance had saved the project a number of times.

  Simde, with four others to be bonded before him, went with Noss to the lock and saw him off in a sled. He had just returned to the common room when Neri came in, obviously agitated. She signalled him to go outside.

  ‘Neri-’

  She stared up at him, but she could have been looking into space.

  ‘Lif Nerod has stopped.’

  Black disbelief clouded Simde’s mind. He gripped Neri’s shoulder and she twisted away.

  ‘During the bonding?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He recalled his own recent experience.

  ‘You assured me that the plant was all right-‘

  He paused as two men came towards them.

  ‘We can’t discuss this here. Let’s go to the plant room. Is he still there?’

  He was striding along and Neri had difficulty in keeping up with him.

  In the room, he looked at the cub, not much older than Rogdon, sagging in the harness. Simde stood gazing at the peaceful face, not knowing what to do. This could mean the end of the project, when it was so close to success in its initial phase. Noss, Irah, Lif. The project had begun to exact its sacrifices. What could save it, now? Lif’s parents would certainly withdraw and their decision might influence some of the others. If the complement of the ship was depleted too much, then the project could not go ahead. The soft sound of Neri’s weeping brought him back to the present reality.

  He said gently, ‘Neri: have Lif put into a side room and laid out. I’ll go and see Enomice and Nekk.’

  First of all, he would have to talk to Atira. He badly needed her support. She saw him as soon as he entered the common room and, sensing that something was wrong, came at once to his side. He told her about Lif. She said nothing but he could feel her love encompass him and it gave him the courage for the task.

  * * * *

  Enomice and Nekk were in a group by one of the ports. She had always been the more enthusiastic about the project and had carried Nekk along with her. As Simde started across the room, Enomice glanced over the shoulder of the woman she was speaking to, and saw him. She broke off in mid-sentence, the dawning knowledge in her eyes like acid, dissolving his resolution. He forced himself not to falter. By this time, conversation had ceased and he was the centre of attention.

  ‘Nekk ... Enomice ... may I speak to you?’

  Simde tried to avoid Enomice’s look of pleading; but he couldn’t.

  She said, very, very quietly, ‘Lif.’

  Nekk and Atira helped her from the room.

  In the corridor, Enomice said, ‘Lif has stopped, hasn’t he?’

  Simde could only shuffle helplessly.

  Atira said, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Take us to him.’

  Nekk, suddenly, seemed to comprehend what was happening.

  Snarling, he pushed Simde against a wall.

  ‘This project of yours stopped Lif, just as it would have stopped us all, had we gone. You and your company, with mad schemes of reaching another star, no matter what the cost, in kind, in people. Lif, oh, Lif—’

  Enomice held him briefly,
then they went to see Lif. Neri and a healer were there. She had regained her composure. While Enomice and Nekk sat by their cub, Neri showed Simde three tiny black capsules.

  ‘I found them in the plant room,’ the healer whispered. ‘I’ve never seen this type before. It - or they - stopped him almost immediately. I’d say that they were his first drugs. And his last. He certainly took a dose after the check on Hasub. He must have taken it while he was in the plant room.’