Bayley, Barrington J - Novel 10

by The Zen Gun (v1. 1)

  Pout proved to be an indefatigable pace-setter. The sun rose high in the sky and became hot, until Hesper, perspiring and fatigued, began to strip off, unfastening the one-piece sheen suit they had adopted as uniform aboard the Shark, quickly following that by pulling off her undervest. Her boots she put back on and strode along in those and her underpants, carrying her other clothing in one hand.

  Pout, glancing back, saw her so disrobed and reminded himself of his plans. A hitch suddenly occurred to him. The boy Sinbiane had assured him they were only a day's journey from the great level plain where the moving cities were. If they found a city before he had set his seal on her, there would be nothing to hold her to the group . . .

  True, there would be plenty of women in the cities, and perhaps female apes and man-ape chimeras too. Still, the snag tussled in Pout's mind with his impatience to reach the plain.

  The little band he had around him satisfied one aspect of Pout's nature: his desire to revenge himself on the world by dominating those around him. But he found his vagrant life of the past few months insufficient. Getting food was too difficult. And it became boring, day after day in the wilderness. His lust for life demanded closer, more colourful horizons.

  He was able to resolve the difficulty when, near the end of the day, the land sloped down to meet the expected plain. They all stopped to stare when they had a good view of it, for it was just Hke a grass sea, completely flat as far as the eye could perceive, the more hilly terrain they had crossed curving round it in coves and headlands.

  "Is it natural?" Hesper asked of no one in particular.

  "It was a sea bottom once," the eldest of the sneakthief brothers told her. "But it was levelled off a bit, too."

  Sinbiane had joined them. "Earth's is an ancient culture, lady, and has peculiarities perhaps not found elsewhere. One of these is the culture of the moving cities. For centuries they have roamed this plain."

  "They really move? But why?"

  "Come!" ordered Pout. "Down onto the plain!"

  They descended. But instead of setting out immediately over the ocean of waving tall grass, as Hesper had expected, Pout stopped and turned to her. From the bib-like garment he wore he drew, not her scangun, but a different-looking gun she had not seen before.

  "Time you joined our little gang properly," he told her in a thick voice, curling back his protruding lips. "We have an initiation rite."

  Hesper stared blankly at the gun.

  Lacey was showing signs of distress, a pained look coming over his face. "Aw, boss, not to a lady. It ain't right to a lady. She'll be a good girl, won'tcha, lady? She'll do what she's told."

  As he said this he reached out his arm to Hesper. She drew away. Pout waved him back. His gaze was fixed on Hesper's breast.

  The muzzle of the zen gun was barely a yard from her as he pointed it at her left nipple.

  "Look!" cried Sinbiane.

  He was pointing to something that had appeared on the horizon: a hulking yellow shape that heaved itself up, like a rising sun or moon, but which seemed almost too big to be coming over the horizon. It was as if it were only on the other side of a table.

  Spellbound, they watched until it came fully into view, even though the process took several minutes. It was like a mobile castle supporting clusters of round, moulded towers, and it gleamed like gold as the sun caught it.

  Suddenly, a fear of the unknown entered Pout's brain. He stabbed at the buttons on his gun, returning it to kill mode. Then he returned it to his bib, and beckoned.

  "Come."

  The moving city appeared to be making for the north of the plain; its progress would take it round a long promontory, though at the rate it went it probably would not get there for a day or two. The grass of the plain was taller than on the higher ground; it came to their mid-thighs (in Pout's and Sinbiane's case, to their hips) and they waded through it as they half-ran towards the gorgeous vision.

  How do they know we'll be allowed in? Hesper thought. But no such doubt seemed to have entered the others' minds. They stopped running after ten minutes, panting, with the city seeming no nearer.

  After that they walked, for about three miles, while the structure grew and grew. Hesper could not keep her eyes off it. One did not normally think of a city as a thing—it was a place. But this was a thing, and at the same time, it was undeniably a city.

  Or rather, it was like the centre of a city translocated, its skyscrapers torn away from its suburbs to live a freelance life of their own. Hesper found it almost incredible that such a massive object could be mobile, at least on the ground (in space was a different matter). Perhaps, she thought, it had to keep moving to stop itself from sinking into the Earth! As they approached she could see that it was surrounded by a skirt of casings which presumably covered whatever it rode on, and from this emanated a low quivering, rumbling sound.

  She estimated the city's speed at about half a mile per hour. At length they found themselves below the outer wall, peering up at towers, balustrades and walkways. Pout scampered to and fro, desperately searching for an entrance.

  It was one of the sneakthief brothers who eventually let out a penetrating whistle and guided them to a ramp which sloped down over the tread casings (gigantic treads, Hesper decided probably were the most economical method of locomotion), gliding over the grassland like the front end of a lawnmower.

  The slope was gentle, but quite long. It ended in a portico fifty feet wide, the way barred by a silver grille. This withdrew; they entered, found their way barred by yet a second grille, while the first fell back into place behind them. The area between was capacious. From the floor, a table emerged, bearing flagons, cups, and a large platter of fruit and breads.

  There was a gentle tone, followed by a pleasant female voice.

  "To our visitors, greetings! You stand at the entrance to Mo City, one of twenty mobile cities that inhabit the flat veldt known as Flatland on the maps. The levelness of the terrain is of assistance, not to the mobility of the cities which are able to negotiate inclines, but so that the human inhabitants may not find their floors and other surfaces tilting. Before entering Mo, it is as well that you should know something of the reason for the existence of the moving cities. They were originally the brainchild of the social scientist and historian Otto Klemperer, whose thesis was that there is a particular form of political constellation which has been especially fruitful for civilisation. This is where a number of independent city states exist within the same geographical area, sharing a common language and a common culture to some extent, but rivals in every other sense. Cases of particular note are the city states of ancient Greece, the city states of the central plain of China of the same period, and the city states of Italy at the time of the Renaissance. In each case, the ideational foundations were laid, within a comparatively short space of time, for the subsequent development of entire civilisations.

  "Klemperer, with the backing of the then Emperor of Eurasia, decided to reinstitute the arrangement in modern form, resulting in the cities of the plain of which Mo, named after a scientific philosopher of the Chinese period, is one. To ensure that each city would remain distinct Klemperer placed its government and administration in the hands of a machine mind, so that a city is, in a very real sense, an intelligent entity in its own right. The citizens live in symbiotic relationship with this entity, and are not normally permitted to leave their city. To establish a common cultural heritage with the proper degree of cultural intercourse, the cities were made mobile. From time to time, under the direction of the city minds themselves, they meet up, and then—if you will pardon the term—a kind of cultural copulation takes place. The two cities are connected by bridges and walkways and the two populations mingle with an air of festivity. This is a great occasion in the life of a city.

  "The cities of the plain are now three hundred and forty-seven years old. To be honest, the scientific and artistic renaissance Klemperer had anticipated has not yet come about. Nevertheless, Mohists, togeth
er with the inhabitants of the other mobile cities, can claim to be the most leisured and continuously educated people in the universe.

  "You are welcome to enter. To distinguish you from Mohists proper you will wear an orange badge on your foreheads. Along with all other citizens, you will be required to attend daily lectures in various subjects. For you I have selected a talk entitled 'Basic Physics.'

  "Normally I would add that after three days you may decide whether you wish to become citizens or not. However, astronomical irregularities indicate a strong possibility that our planet may be destroyed in the next few hours. If so, let us endure our fate with philosophical calm and fortitude!"

  At this members of Pout's party stared at one another. "What irregularities?" Hesper said harshly. There was no answer, other than that the inner grille withdrew, disclosing a path leading, after a few yards, to the interior of the city.

  As they stepped onto it, Hesper noted that on the foreheads of her companions circular orange patches had appeared. She put a hand to her own forehead, could feel nothing, but was sure the patch was there.

  But there was one exception. The kosho still kept to the rear of the party. Looking back, Hesper noticed that his forehead remained unmarked. She fancied she saw the hint of a smile on his face as he received her attention, as though to convey to her some private joke.

  Then they were in Mo. The path gave onto a broad esplanade paved with hexagonal slabs a pale gold in colour. At its fringe people sat at tables under awnings before arcaded doorways, talking and drinking, attended by flimsy-looking robots. At intervals, avenues led to other places.

  Hesper lifted her eyes. Up, up and up rose the moulded towers, connected by bridges, interspersed with terraces, suspended plazas and esplanades, all shining in the evening sun.

  They stood on the ground floor of the city, so to speak, but it had many floors, at dizzying levels.

  It was, she had to admit, the most entrancing urban construct she had ever seen.

  And to think that all this moved.

  She pulled on her clothing again, no longer feeling overheated. She reminded herself that she was here for a purpose: to try to join up with whatever remnants of rebel forces there might be, or failing that, to get home.

  Pout was staring about himself with a look of idiocy. He seemed to be in shock: culture shock, perhaps.

  She patted him on the head. "Well thanks for the company, ape. So long."

  With that, she skipped off lightly to join the Mohists.

  Later, she lay back with a sigh on the divan in the delightful accommodation she had been given.

  Her conversations with the Mohists had not proved helpful. They seemed disinterested in the outside world beyond the plain. For news of or travel to other planets, she would have to go to some other part of Earth, they had told her. And how did she do that?

  She would have to walk. Mo offered no transport facilities, beyond its own enormous treads whose rumblings could, occasionally, be heard in quieter moments.

  They had smiled in dazed fashion when she questioned them on the coming end of the world. Earth, they claimed, was about to collide with its own moon. Nothing could prevent it. Mo himself had confirmed the likelihood of it happening.

  Recalling what Sinbiane had said, she felt perplexed, almost frightened. Then one of the robots, who seemed to take care of everything, had approached and offered to take her to her apartment. There she had showered, removing the dirt and sweat of the last few days. Now she rested.

  The pending satellite collision could not be taken seriously. The universe could be a violent place, but sudden events did not happen without lengthy warning. If this planet's moon had an orbit so unstable as to decay into its primary, the fact would have been known the Simplex knew how long ago. It would have been the talk of Escoria.

  Her own private explanation was that she was being told a cultural fable. The satellite probably had an orbit with van-able eccentricity which made it approach closer to the planet at long intervals. That would explain why the boy hadn't seen it grow visibly bigger before.

  As for the Mohists, they were probably crazies, no longer able to separate fable from reality. Centuries of enclosed life, no matter how pleasant the surroundings, under the tutelage of a city-mind that was virtually a god as far as they were concerned, could hardly produce anything else.

  A tone suddenly sounded, the same she had heard at the gate. The voice that followed, however, was masculine.

  "Visitor, this is Mo speaking. It is time for your evening lecture."

  Hesper started, thrilled despite herself. The voice was that of a young but mature man, vigorous and confident. It brought to mind the sort of visage she had seen on ancient statues, framed in dark curls, handsome, intelligent and strong. The face of a deity ...

  A thought struck her. Could it be that some of the city minds had female gender?

  There could be more ramifications to this society than she had penetrated so far.

  Almost coyly, she said, "I'm tired. I'll skip the lecture, thank you."

  "Education is obligatory," the godlike voice replied gently. "The whole point of a leisured class is that it may cultivate the mind. Your weariness is in body only. Since you are too tired to walk to the lecture hall, I shall bring it to you by sensurround. Just relax."

  The room darkened. Hesper seemed to be transported to some other place: a semidark hall, quite small in size though she became aware of its slightly echoing acoustics. It had a plush smell, quite different from her perfumed apartment.

  In reality she was also aware that she still lay on her bed; sensory beams were being aimed at her. Down the slope of the lecture room, the display area suddenly lit up with the words:

  DISCOVERING THE SIMPLEX

  The words cleared: there began a sequence of images accompanying a spoken text, which to Hesper's mild surprise was voiced by Mo himself.

  "The foundation of modern physics," the voice said in cordial, instructing tones, "was established by Vargo Gridban two thousand years ago. He it was who replaced the picture of space and matter then prevailing, involving several types of fundamental particle with several kinds of forces acting between them, with a scheme requiring only one type of elementary particle and one fundamental force.

  "Gridban's work began with the observation that the space-time in which we live is so constituted that, while it could accommodate forces of repulsion, forces of attraction ought to be impossible in it. Yet attractive forces—gravitation, electro-magnetism, nuclear binding force—do appear to exist and are responsible for both the small and large scale structures in our universe, from atoms to galaxies. Instead of simply accepting the existence of these forces, as scientists before him had done, Gridban came to the opposite conclusion and accepted their impossibility. It followed that gravitation, electromagnetic attraction, and nuclear force could only be apparently attractive: they might even depend on a completely opposite type of phenomenon for their effect.

  "Gridban's own special contribution was in the field of gravitation. The supremely subtle set of experiments he proposed established two things. First, that gravitating bodies fail to obey the Newtonian law of action and reaction. That they superficially appear to obey it is due to the acceleration of a gravitating body being independent of its mass. In fact the motion of a satellite, to take an example, is due solely to the presence of its primary. It does not contribute to that motion by reacting to its own influence upon the primary.

  "Second, Gridban was able to demonstrate diat there is actually no connecting causal link at all between gravitating bodies. That is the reason for the failure of Newton's third law: gravitating bodies are not, in fact, acting on one another.

  "Eventually Gridban was able to prove that gravitation is a residual phenomenon, not a positive force. The road was opened to our present knowledge of space and its relation to matter.

  "Space is kinetic, not static in character. It consists purely of relationships between material particles,
and fundamentally there is only one relationship: every particle in existence attempts to recede from every other particle at the velocity of light. The recessive factor between any two particles is known as a recession line. The structure we call 'space' consists of a mesh of recession lines. Between lines, in the interstices not on any route between particles, no 'space' or anything else exists.

  "Actually the spacetime we live in is of a rather special kind. You are probably already acquainted with the following geometrical facts: on a one-dimensional line no more than two points can be selected so as to be equidistant from one another; on a two-dimensional plane, as many as three points may be equidistant, forming the apices of an equilateral triangle; in our real space of three dimensions as many as four points may be equidistant, forming the apices of a tetrahedron; in a four-dimensional continuum a fifth point could be added to form a pentope; and so on. For each extra dimension one more point can be added. Such a configuration of equidistant points is known as a simplex, and each simplex exemplifies a particular dimensional set.

  "Originally existence was without spatial dimension as such, or to put it another way, each particle in existence introduced a new dimension. The configuration of existence was that of a stupendous simplex, made up of an infinite number of particles all equidistant from one another and all receding at the standard rate—through 'recession' here becomes a rarefield concept, since there were no such entities as time or distance to measure velocity by. The Simplex, as this primordial state is called, still exists, but it has become flawed. Through causes unknown a small part of it has collapsed into three dimensions, and this flattened 'facet' constitutes our universe.

  "It is postulated that there may be other flattened facets on the Simplex. If a means of entering the Simplex could be found we could presumably travel to these other universes. Not only that, but a route through the Simplex would make all points in our local universe equally accessible, since the Simplex does not recognise relative distances. So far this old scientific dream has resisted all efforts to bring it to reality.