by Keith Laumer
"-your name, my dear fellow," he went on. "I'll mention it to the Commissioner, a very close friend of mine." Abruptly the Vegan reached for a lever The long arms in the tight white jacket reached to haul him back effortlessly. "That was unwise, sir. Now I'll be forced to recommend subliminal reorientation during stasis." He clamped stout handcuffs on Blote's broad wrists.
"You Vegans," he said, dusting his hands briskly. "Will you never learn?"
"Now, officer," Blote said, "you're acting hastily. Actually, I'm working in the interest of this little world, as my associate Dan will gladly confirm. I have information which will be of considerable interest to you. Snithian has stated that he is in the employ of the Ivroy-"
"If the Ivroy's so powerful, why was it necessary to hire Snithian to steal pictures?" Dan interrupted.
"Perish the thought, Dan. Snithian's assignment was merely to duplicate works of art and transmit them to the Ivroy."
"Here," Snithian cut in. "Restrain that obscene mouth!"
Dzhackoon raised a hand. "Kindly remain silent, sir. Permit my prisoners their little chat."
"You may release them to my custody," Snithian snapped.
Dzhackoon shook his head. "Hardly, sir. A most improper suggestion-even from an agent of the Ivroy." He nodded at Dan. "You may continue."
"How do you duplicate works of art?" Dan demanded.
"With a matter duplicator. But, as I was saying, Snithian saw an opportunity to make extra profits by retaining the works for repeated duplications and sale to other customers-such as myself."
"You mean there are other-customers-around?"
"I have dozens of competitors, Dan, all busy exporting your artifacts. You are an industrious and talented race, you know."
"What do they buy?"
"A little of everything, Dan. It's had an influence on your designs already, I'm sorry to say. The work is losing its native purity."
Dan nodded. "I have had the feeling some of this modern furniture was designed for Martians."
"Ganymedans, mostly. The Martians are graphic arts fans, while your automobiles are designed for the Plutonian trade. They have a baroque sense of humor."
"What will the Ivroy do when he finds out Snithian's been double-crossing him?"
"He'll think of something, I daresay. I blame myself for his defection, in a way. You see, it was my carrier which made it possible for Snithian to carry out his thefts. Originally, he would simply enter a gallery, inconspicuously scan a picture, return home and process the recording through the duplicator. The carrier gave him the idea of removing works en masse, duplicating them and returning them the next day. Alas, I agreed to join forces with him. He grew greedy. He retained the paintings here and proceeded to produce vast numbers of copies-which he doubtless sold to my competitors, the crook!"
Dzhackoon had whipped out a notebook and was jotting rapidly.
"Now, let's have those names and addresses," he said. "This will be the biggest round-up in IDMS history."
"And the pinch will be yours, dear sir," Blote said. "I foresee early promotion for you." He held out his shackled wrists. "Would you mind?"
"Well…" Dzhackoon hesitated, but unlocked the cuffs. "I think I'm on firm ground. Just don't mention it to Inspector Spoghodo."
"You can't do that!" Snithian snapped. "These persons are dangerous!"
"That is my decision. Now-"
Snithian brought out the pistol with a sudden movement. "I'll brook no interference from meddlers-"
***
There was a sound from the door. All heads turned. The girl Dan had seen in the house stood in the doorway, glancing calmly from Snithian to Blote to Dzhackoon. When her eyes met Dan's she smiled. Dan thought he had never seen such a beautiful face-and the figure matched.
"Get out, you fool!" Snithian snapped. "No; come inside, and shut the door."
"Leave the girl out of this, Snithian," Dan croaked.
"Now I'll have to destroy all of you," Snithian keened. "You first of all, ugly native!" He aimed the gun at Dan.
"Put the gun down, Mr. Snithian," the girl said in a warm, melodious voice. She seemed completely unworried by the grotesque aliens, Dan noted abstractedly.
Snithian swiveled on her. "You dare-!"
"Oh, yes, I dare, Snithian." Her voice had a firm ring now.
Snithian stared at her. "Who… are you…?"
"I am the Ivroy."
Snithian wilted. The gun fell to the floor. His fantastically tall figure drooped, his face suddenly gray.
"Return to your home, Snithian," the girl said sadly. "I will deal with you later."
"But… but…" His voice was a thin squeak.
"Did you think you could conceal your betrayal from the Ivroy?" she said softly.
Snithian turned and blundered from the room, ducking under the low door. The Ivroy turned to Dzhackoon.
"You and your Service are to be commended," she said. "I leave the apprehension of the culprits to you." She nodded at Blote. "I will rely on you to assist in the task-and to limit your operations thereafter to non-interdicted areas."
"But of course, your worship. You have my word as a Vegan. Do visit me on Vorplisch some day. I'd love the wives and kiddie to meet you." He blinked rapidly. "So long, Dan. It's been crazy cool."
Dzhackoon and Blote stepped through the Portal. It shimmered and winked out. The Ivroy faced Dan. He swallowed hard, watching the play of light in the shoulder-length hair, golden, fine as spun glass…
"Your name is Dan?" Her musical voice interrupted his survey.
"Dan Slane," he said. He took a deep breath. "Are you really the Ivroy?"
"I am of the Ivroy, who are many and one."
"But you look like-just a beautiful girl."
***
The Ivroy smiled. Her teeth were as even as matched pearls, Dan thought, and as white as "I am a girl, Dan. We are cousins, you and I-separated by the long mystery of time."
"Blote-and Dzhackoon and Snithian, too-seemed to think the Ivroy ran the Universe. But-"
The Ivroy put her hand on Dan's. It was as soft as a flower petal.
"Don't trouble yourself over this just now, Dan. Would you like to become my agent? I need a trustworthy friend to help me in my work here."
"Doing what?" Dan heard himself say.
"Watching over the race which will one day become the Ivroy."
"I don't understand all this-but I'm willing to try."
"There will be much to learn, Dan. The full use of the mind, control of aging and disease… Our work will require many centuries."
"Centuries? But-"
"I'll teach you, Dan."
"It sounds great," Dan said. "Too good to be true. But how do you know I'm the man for the job? Don't I have to take some kind of test?"
She looked up at him, smiling, her lips slightly parted. On impulse, Dan put a hand under her chin, drew her face close and kissed her on the mouth…
A full minute later, the Ivroy, nestled in Dan's arms, looked up at him again.
"You passed the test," she said.
Greylorn
Prologue
The murmur of conversation around the conference table died as the Lord Secretary entered the room and took his place at the head of the table.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "I'll not detain you with formalities today. The representative of the Navy Ministry is waiting outside to present the case for his proposal. You all know something of the scheme; it has been heard and passed as feasible by the Advisory Group. It will now be our responsibility to make the decision. I ask that each of you in forming a conclusion remember that our present situation can be described only as desperate, and that desperate measures may be in order."
The Secretary turned and nodded to a braided admiral seated near the door, who left the room and returned a moment later with a young but grey-haired Naval commander in uniform.
"Members of the Council," said the admiral, "this is Commander Greylorn." All eyes followed the o
fficer as he walked the length of the room to take the empty seat at the end of the table.
"Please proceed, Commander," said the Secretary.
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary." The commander's voice was unhurried and low, yet it carried clearly and held authority. He began without preliminary.
"When the World Government dispatched the Scouting Forces forty-three years ago, an effort was made to contact each of the twenty-five worlds to which this government had sent Colonization parties during the Colonial Era of the middle twentieth centuries. With the return of the last of the scouts early this year, we were forced to realize that no assistance would be forthcoming from that source."
The commander turned his eyes to the world map covering the wall. With the exception of North America and a narrow strip of coastal waters, the entire map was tinted an unhealthy pink.
"The latest figures compiled by the Navy Ministry indicate that we are losing area at the rate of one square mile every twenty-one hours," the officer stated. "The organism's faculty for developing resistance to our chemical and biological measures appears to be evolving rapidly. Analyses of atmospheric samples indicate the level of noxious content rising at a steady rate. In other words, in spite of our best efforts, we are not holding our own against the Red Tide."
A mutter ran around the table, as members shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
"A great deal of thought has been applied to the problem of increasing our offensive ability," the commanded proceeded. "This in the end is still a question of manpower and raw resources. We do not have enough. Our small improvements in effectiveness have been progressively offset by increasing casualties and loss of territory. In the end, alone, we must lose."
The commander paused, as the murmur rose and died again.
"There is, however, one possibility still unexplored," he said. "And recent work done at the Polar Research Station places the possibility well within the scope of feasibility. At the time the attempt was made to establish contact with the colonies, one was omitted. It alone now remains to be sought out. I refer to the Omega Colony."
A portly Member leaned forward and burst out, "The location of the colony is unknown!"
The Secretary intervened. "Please permit the commander to complete his remarks. There will be ample opportunity for discussion when he has finished."
"This contact was not attempted for two reasons," the commander continued. "First, the precise location was not known; second, the distance was at least twice that of the other colonies. At the time, there was a feeling of optimism which seemed to make the attempt superfluous. Now the situation has changed. The possibility of contacting Omega Colony now assumes paramount importance.
"The development of which I spoke is a new application of drive principle which has given to us a greatly improved effective volume for space exploration. Forty years ago, the minimum elapsed time of return travel to the presumed sector within which the Omega World should lie was about a century. Today we have the techniques to construct a small scouting vessel capable of making the transit in just over five years. We cannot hold out here for a century, perhaps; but we can manage a decade.
"As for location, we know the initial target point toward which Omega was launched. The plan was of course that a precise target should be selected by the crew after approaching the star group closely enough to permit optical telescopic planetary resolution and study. There is no reason that the crew of a scout could not make the same study and examination of all possible targets, and with luck find the colony.
"Omega was the last colonial venture undertaken by our people, two centuries after the others. It was the best equipped and largest expedition of them all. It was not limited to one destination, little known, but had a presumably large selection of potentials from which to choose; and her planetary study facilities were extremely advanced. I have full confidence that Omega made a successful planetfall and has by now established a vigorous new society.
"Honorable Lords, Members of the Council, I submit that all the resources of this planet should be at once placed at the disposal of a task force with the assigned duty of constructing a fifty-thousand-ton scouting vessel, and conducting an exhaustive survey of a volume of space of one thousand A.U.'s centered on the so-called Omega Cluster."
The World Secretary interrupted the babble which arose with the completion of the officer's presentation.
"Ladies and gentlemen, time is of the essence with our problem. Let's proceed at once to orderly interrogation. Lord Klayle, lead off, please."
The portly Councilor glared at the commander. "The undertaking you propose, sir, will require a massive diversion of our capacities from defense. That means losing ground at an increasing rate to the obscenity crawling over our planet. That same potential applied to direct offensive measures may yet turn the balance in our favor. Against this, the possibility of a scouting party stumbling over the remains of a colony the location of which is almost completely problematical, and which by analogy with all of the earlier colonial attempts has at best managed to survive as a marginal foothold, is so fantastically remote as to be inconsiderable."
The commander listened coolly, seriously. "Milord Councilor," he replied, "as to our defensive measures, we have passed the point of diminishing returns. We have more knowledge now than we are capable of employing against the plague. Had we not neglected the physical sciences as we have for the last two centuries, we might have developed adequate measures before we had been so far reduced in numbers and area as to be unable to produce and employ the new weapons our laboratories have belatedly developed. Now we must be realistic; there is no hope in that direction.
"As to the location of the Omega World, our plan is based on the fact that the selection was not made at random. Our scout will proceed along the Omega course line as known to us from the observations which were carried on for almost three years after its departure. We propose to continue on that line, carrying out systematic observation of each potential sun in turn. As we detect planets, we will alter course only as necessary to satisfy ourselves as to the possibility of suitability of the planet. We can safely assume that Omega will not have bypassed any likely target. If we should have more than one prospect under consideration at any time, we shall examine them in turn. If the Omega World has developed successfully, ample evidence should be discernible at a distance."
Klayle muttered, "madness," and subsided.
The angular member on his left spoke gently. "Commander Greylorn, why, if this colonial venture has met with the success you assume, has its government not reestablished contact with the mother world during the last two centuries?"
"On that score, Milord Councilor, we can only conjecture," the commander said. "The outward voyage may have required as much as fifty or sixty years. After that, there must have followed a lengthy period of development and expansion in building the new world. It is not to be expected that the pioneers would be ready to expend resources in expeditionary ventures for some time."
"I do not completely understand your apparent confidence in the ability of the hypothetical Omega culture to supply massive aid to us, even if its people should be so inclined," said a straight-backed woman Member. "The time seems very short for the mastery of an alien world."
"The population development plan, Madam, provided for an increase from the original ten thousand colonists to approximately forty thousand within twenty years, after which the rate of increase would of course rapidly grow. Assuming sixty years for planetfall, the population should now number over one hundred sixty million. Given population, all else follows."
Two hours later, the World Secretary summed up. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have the facts before us. There still exist differences in interpretation, which however, will not be resolved by continued repetition. I now call for a vote on the resolution proposed by the Military Member and presented by Commander Greylorn."
There was silence in the Council Chamber as the votes were recorded and tabulated. Th
en the World Secretary sighed softly.
"Commander," he said, "the Council has approved the resolution. I'm sure that there will be general agreement that you will be placed at the head of the project, since you were director of the team which developed the new drive and are also the author of the plan. I wish you the best of luck." He rose and extended his hand.
The first keel plate of the Armed Courier Vessel Galahad was laid thirty-two hours later.
1
I expected trouble when I left the Bridge. The tension that had been building for many weeks was ready for release in violence. The ship was silent as I moved along the passageway. Oddly silent, I thought; something was brewing.
I stopped before the door of my cabin, listening; then I put my ear to the wall. I caught the faintest of sounds from within; a muffled click, voices. Someone was inside, attempting to be very quiet. I was not overly surprised. Sooner or later the trouble had had to come into the open. I looked up the passage, dim in the green glow of the nightlights. There was no one in sight.
There were three voices, too faint to identify. The clever thing for me to do now would be to walk back up to the Bridge, and order the Provost Marshal to clear my cabin, but I had an intuitive feeling that that was not the way to handle the situation. It would make things much simpler all around if I could push through this with as little commotion as possible.
There was no point in waiting. I took out my key and placed it soundlessly in the slot. As the door slid back I stepped briskly into the room. Kramer, the Medical Officer, and Joyce, Assistant Communications Officer, stood awkwardly, surprised. Fine, the Supply Officer, was sprawled on my bunk. He sat up quickly.
They were a choice selection. Two of them were wearing sidearms. I wondered if they were ready to use them, or if they knew just how far they were prepared to go. My task would be to keep them from finding out.
I avoided looking surprised. "Good evening, gentlemen," I said cheerfully. I stepped to the liquor cabinet, opened it, poured scotch into a glass. "Join me in a drink?" I said.