The Ninth Science Fiction Megapack

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The Ninth Science Fiction Megapack Page 59

by Arthur C. Clarke


  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.

  He chanted:

  Oh Darkness that is Light!

  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 reception 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!”

  “No!” protested Ron.

  “Yes!” said Lylwani and Yldra in unison.

  And Lylwani added, “You’re right, Nad. There is no purpose in mere existence here unless we can unravel the whole mystery and see where we are going.”

  Nad had been lost in thought, momentarily, but now he looked up suddenly at Lylwani, his eyes wide in astonishment. “What did you say?” he demanded rather than asked.

  “I said we’ve got to clear up this whole mystery and—and—”

  “And what!” He glared at her, a triumphant smile on his lips.

  “And—see—where we are going…”

  “Exactly!” he exclaimed, smacking the palm of his hand with his fist. “We’re going somewhere! We’re on a journey! This metal-walled world of ours is like one of the flying globes used for the aerial chess games in the Recreation Hall. It is moving through the Abyss! The Navigators have erased our memory of where we really came from!”

  He paced rapidly back and forth in front of his astounded little audience. “That means there was another life on the outside, at the beginning of the Abyss somewhere. And maybe—maybe there is a new life, after we cross the Abyss! Or maybe He paused, staring into nothingness.

  “Maybe what, Nad?” Lylwani asked, excitedly.

  “Maybe the Navigators are lost and won’t admit it…”

  At that moment, without warning, two Navigators stepped into the room. It was too late for anyone to do anything. The Navigators, young and arrogant in their esoteric knowledge, immediately approached Nad and seized him.

  “Come along!” said one of them. “Sargon’s orders!”

  In a wholly unexpected move, Nad broke their grips on him and ran for the corridor. Both Navigators fired Stun Rays after him, but he was shielded by the metal walls just in time.

  Much to the surprise of Nad’s friends remaining in the reception room, the two young guards only grinned at each other and shrugged. One of them reached over to the wall and unlocked a small compartment with a master key. Inside the compartment was a switch that tied the sonophone in the room to all the others in the system. Once the switch was thrown, the operator had at his disposal a universal public address system.

  “Alert! Alert!” he called into the instrument. “All guards! Capture escaped Passenger condemned to execution, Nad E-250-P, last seen in Q sector, deck fifteen. He is unarmed. When captured, bring prisoner to H. That is all!”

  The guard who had made the announcement locked up the converter switch box and turned to his companion.

  “Is that guy crazy?” he asked. “How does he figure he has a chance?”

  When they had left the room, Ron was near to fainting in his terror. “You see? You see?” he said, hysterically. “Now he’s got us all into trouble!”

  Lylwani had a far away look in her eyes. Silently, she left the room. Ron stood there trembling in his helplessness for even if he had possessed courage he lacked the knowledge of what to do. Yldra covered her face and began to cry…

  * * * *

  Lylwani presented herself to the astonished guard and said simply, “I have come to see Sargon.” She gave him her name.

  While she waited outside the great cryosite door, she could not suppress a feeling of terror. She had asked permission to enter section N, forbidden heretofore to all Passengers except women taken in as the chosen mates of the Navigators. Strange and terrifying were the imagined tales she had heard concerning this place, which was the citadel of the Navigators. Childlike in her ignorance, she half believed she would never emerge from the place once she entered it. But her purpose was fixed unshakeably in her mind. What she was doing was the only solution she could conceive of—for Nad. She was sure that the mysterious person known as X held the answer to all their problems, and if Nad could be free to join forces with X one day, it would be far more important than her own personal destiny.

  The guard returned with a second Navigator, who led her to Sargon, Chief of the Navigator guards. So confused was her perception due to her increasing misgivings that she failed to notice anything unusual about the shining corridors through which she was taken, until she was admitted to Sargon’s own office.

  This was not at all like the Passenger type living quarters or reception rooms. It was unusually spacious and comfortable, as though it had been designed for an officer of much higher rank than that of Sargon. On the floor was a soft, furry substance that felt luxurious under her thin sandals as she walked across it. Its strange, soft fibers were of purest white and she could not imagine of what it was composed. Even Sargon’s desk was of an alien substance—pure black, but like glass and scintillating with lights inherent within itself. On the walls were curious pictures which she could not understand at all. Among them was a very unintelligible one under glass, and beneath it was a metal plate bearing the meaningless title: Nebula in Andromeda…

  Sargon sat inscrutably at his desk, but he motioned her to a large cushioned chair beside him. It was such a chair as Lylwani had never sat in before—soft and caressing, seeming to cradle her whole body like a cloud.

  “Why have you come here?” he asked. “Is it because of Nad? His career is just about a
t an end, you know.” He watched her intently.

  Lylwani sat up wide-eyed. “Then they did capture him?” she said.

  Sargon’s brows lowered to emphasize a penetrating gaze. “What else could happen?” he asked.

  Lylwani lowered her head to hide her face, and her long, dark hair fell across her shoulders, but Sargon noticed that they trembled. He rose to his feet and stood looking down at her.

  “You have come to request leniency for him,” he told her. “What would you offer in return?”

  Lylwani looked up at him, suddenly struggling for self-composure. “You want me,” she, said, tonelessly. “Give him freedom and I will bear you child.” In the language of the Passengers there was no actual word for marriage.

  A light leaped into Sargon’s eyes but was gone almost in the same instant. “A Navigator’s woman remains forever within section N,” he replied. “You would have to be content never to see Nad again.”

  By now, Lylwani’s face had lost its natural, pinkish complexion. It was white. And her voice was like that of an automaton as she spoke.

  “Let me see him free, and I will be your woman,” she said.

  Sargon chuckled. “What makes you think I would not take you anyway?” he asked. “I have planned it this way for a long time.”

  Lylwani’s eyes widened. “But that is against Navigator law!” she protested. “Not even a Passenger woman may be forced—”

  “Forget it,” Sargon interrupted. “There are many things you don’t know—too many things. Startling and amazing things, Lylwani. Things that would enable you to understand why we Navigators are doing what the Passengers believe to be unreasonable, even though we do it for their own protection. I have wanted to share this knowledge with you, as well as certain personal triumphs, but that will only be possible when you have became my mate. I promise you I will do all I can for Nad if you promise to stay here now and be content never to return to the Passengers.”

  For answer, Lylwani buried her head in the gas-foam cushions of her chair and cried uncontrollable. But for Sargon it was answer enough.

  CHAPTER IV

 

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