The Ninth Science Fiction Megapack

by Arthur C. Clarke

  “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?

  Ron 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 spacesuit 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!
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  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 spacesuited 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 hand 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.

  There in the lock was a figure in a spacesuit, but they could not tell whether it was Nad or Sargon. As they watched, the figure dragged in behind it another figure clad in a spacesuit, and both observers felt their pulse surge with a new hope. This was either Sargon dragging Nad, or Nad dragging Sargon, and in either case they knew that Nad was still with them.

  Hastily, Yiddir activated the valves and the outer door closed while air shot back into the lock. The figure outside opened the inner door before Yiddir could perform the service for him. At the same time, the standing figure helped the prone figure to its feet. Then the first figure opened its faceplate, and Sargon spoke too them, peremptorily.

  “Help me with this suit, quick!” Whereupon he started to dismantle the other figure’s suit. Yiddir unscrewed the helmet and lifted it hastily, expecting to find Nad.

  But there before him was the pale face of Lylwani! And he and Ron observed again in her eyes the childishness of a victim of the M-Ray.

  “Baby!” she gasped, as she struggled in the depths of her suit, and Yiddir was alarmed to hear the muffled scream of an infant.

  When he stripped off the top section, the small child came to light—its face almost blue from partial asphyxiation.

  Ron helped Lylwani to a seat, while Yiddir stood there trying to contain himself. His mind staggered under the impact of the realization of what Sargon had done. Jealous of Lylwani’s newly acquired memory of Nad and love for him, Sargon had subjected her to the M-Ray, and then he had forced her to be his mate.

  He turned on Sargon, his face red with rage. “You dirty, foul beast of Satan!” he exclaimed.

  In their distraction with Lylwani and the child they had not seen Sargon extract an M-Ray from his spacesuit. He was half out of it now, and he stood there looking at them with a menacing scowl.

  “You might as well take it this way,” he said. “We’re all in this together, and if we want to survive we’ll have to work together. I’ve been struggling with a disabled ship for months. Now it’s gone to God knows where in the nebula. It jerked loose just as I brought Lylwani over.”

  “But what happened to Nad?” asked Yiddir. “Did you kill him and leave him outside?”

  “Neither one,” replied Sargon, the shadow of a grim smile on his lips. “He lost pretty much air when I cracked his faceplate, but I think he’ll live, because I brought him inside.”

  “Inside!” Yiddir’s eyes widened in horror, incredulous. “Inside what?”

  “Inside the other ship.”

  “You mean—” Yiddir staggered, fighting to keep from passing out.

  “Yes,” snarled Sargon. “In the other ship out there lost in the nebula. If he manages to recover, he’ll find himself in a disabled ship, fully capable of supplying him with all the food and water and air he needs—but a drifting derelict.”

  “But, good God! He’ll go mad!”

  “It’s less than he deserves,” Sargon replied, divesting himself of the rest of his suit. “It’s just the way I wanted it. Killing was too good for him. I think he saw Lylwani and the child. I want him to spend a lot of time in absolute loneliness thinking about that. I hope he never goes mad. I hope he spends his whole life thinking about it!”

  Just as Yiddir dropped to the floor, overcome by shock in his weakened condition, Ron lunged at Sargon’s legs and bore him to the floor. In a blind frenzy of hate, he sought the Martian’s throat. But Sargon landed a mighty rabbit punch on the back of his neck and he slumped into unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER XII

  It was Sargon who piloted the ship out of the nebula and plotted a straight course to the planet. When Yiddir felt better, Sargon had a talk with him.

  “When my ship became disabled,” he said, “I had to abandon my original plans for returning to the fleet. I figured that if I could make it to the planet I was lucky. Well, I couldn’t make repairs in time to keep from tangling with the nebula, and I had about given up hope when I drifted into you. That was just unheard of luck! Wouldn’t have happened again in a million years!”

  “Sargon,” said Yiddir, bitterly, “do you think that you will ever be able to really enjoy life again, knowing what you’ve done with Nad? You condemned him to that terrible fate at a time when your emotions were governing your reasoning, but later on, in your more sober moments of reflection, you may be haunted by the vision of him, a lonely madman drifting helplessly in the nebula.”

  Sargon scowled. “He can always open the airlock,” he said. “I’d do it. It’s the easy way out. Besides, he may be dead anyway. He was out cold when I left him. But that’s all behind us now. What I’m concerned with is the future. To return to either section of the fleet, even with your conver
ted drive, would take years. If it were just straight distance to cover we could make it much sooner, but both fleets are moving, too, much faster than light. Well, I’ve thought it all over a lot of times. I’ve weighed my possible rewards and advantages to be derived from returning to the arks against the terrible years of waiting through such a long journey. It’s not worth it, so it looks like the planet is the answer.”

  Yiddir then carefully outlined his own ideas concerning further exploration. He emphasized the importance of notifying the Government Fleet, at any sacrifice, in the event such a discovery could be made.

  “I am quite sure I have not long to live,” he continued. “So you will have to do it, Sargon. As a member of the human race, it is your duty to do it. Your own rebel section of the fleet might conceivably come back and try to invade any planets colonized by Government forces, and whether they might succeed in taking over or not would make little difference. What matters is the people. They must be given a chance. Once installed in a suitable natural environment, I have complete confidence that our species can outlive any form of dictatorial rule that can be imposed upon it. That has always been borne out to be true in the past and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be true in the future.”

  “That’s neither here nor there,” replied Sargon impatiently. “As far as your idea about a better solar system is concerned, I think that’s a little imaginative. I was a first hand witness to previous explorations in this region, you know, and I can tell you there’s nothing out here but this one little planet. I’m not going to spend my time—”

  Yiddir’s eyes flashed indignantly. He interrupted. “Have you any idea of who I really am?”

  “Yes, I know. Yiddir E-5172-it was an alias.”

  “And my real name is?”

  “Korlon E-3-N. All right, so you used to be captain of the ark. But that was many years ago, and—”

  “I was also something else!”

  “So you were a famous scientist, too. But that’s not—”

  Yiddir sat up in his bunk and grasped Sargon’s powerful arm. “Don’t you realize,” he argued, “that I was, even at the time of your exploration of this region, the most qualified astrophysicist on board? I had my own equipment which I had improved over your own. I know what I’m saying when I tell you there are other suns in this region which are favorable to our existence!”