by Джеффри Лорд
Now to find out how much that would be.
Blade did his best to be helpful, but promptly ran into several stone walls. To start with, he wasn't even allowed to visit two-thirds of the asteroid. That two-thirds included practically everything he wanted to see, particularly the asteroid's own defense weapons.
Blade was finally able to get hold of a plan of the asteroid and study it closely. He still hadn't been hooked up to one of the Teacher Globes to have a knowledge of the Kananite language implanted directly in his brain. He was beginning to suspect this wasn't accidental. In spite of this he'd picked up enough Kananite to be able to read the plan fairly well.
After a few hours' study he concluded that the asteroid was unarmed except for the weapons aboard the patrol ships based there. The Menel and the Kananites had spared no expense fitting it out with laboratories, observatories, repair shops, and living quarters with all the comforts of home for both races. They hadn't given it a single heavy weapon.
This seemed so ridiculous to Blade that he asked Riyannah what the real situation was. He was hoping to be told that there were asteroid-based weapons the plan didn't show and that he couldn't be told about.
Instead Riyannah nodded. «You are quite right. Except for the patrol ships, the base has no defenses.»
«Why? I can understand why it wasn't armed when the Targans didn't have a space fleet. But now they're building the starship as fast as they can, and she'll be only the first of many. Surely the base ought to have something.»
Riyannah smiled sadly. «It should. But there's a reason for its being unarmed, a very simple reason. Richard, I don't think you understand just how the Twenty Cities of Kanan deal with each other.»
«Apparently I don't.» He found it impossible to keep an edge out of his voice, although he knew he ought to. Riyannah wasn't responsible for this situation, and it wasn't fair to take out his irritation on her simply because she was the only Kananite he could talk to.
Riyannah explained. Each of the Twenty Cities of Kanan was completely independent in all the material things of life. This was inevitable when the energy came from the sun and food, clothing, and housing could literally be extracted from the air, the water, and the earth. So there was no need to fight or compete over resources.
On the other hand, there was a continuous struggle, polite but very stubborn, for prestige. A City could win a victory in this struggle by discovering a new planet, developing a new art form, winning an athletic competition, or doing something to impress the Menel.
«What do the Menel think of this game-playing?» Blade asked.
«The Menel are a united planet. Their only divisions are those among the different Gorani. They don't really understand what we're doing. I think they would call it silly, except that they're too polite. In any case they're also realists. They know there's no other way of dealing with Kanan except by allowing the 'game-playing' among the Cities.»
«And I should follow the same path as the Menel?» said Blade.
Riyannah shrugged. «You said it, I didn't. But certainly if the Menel haven't been able to change us in five hundred years, you aren't going to do it.»
The Twenty Cities of Kanan could cooperate if there was a good reason. There'd been a good reason when it came time to establish the asteroid base for keeping watch on the Targans. Every City contributed people and equipment and resources to setting it up. Everyone recognized the need for the base. They also recognized that contributing generously was one way of showing off before the other Cities and the Menel.
So the base was finished. Every City contributed, but no City wanted to risk another's getting control of the base. It was too valuable. So the Kananites who manned it were carefully chosen in equal proportions from all twenty Cities. The important leadership positions were carefully rotated among people from the distant cities.
Finally, it was absolutely forbidden to arm the base. Each City sent a few armed patrol ships to help defend it, but that was all. No one wanted to risk what might happen if the base was armed. Then one City might suddenly gain control of it and be able to defend it against the ships of the other Cities. That might even lead to war among the Kananites, or at least to some fairly serious fighting.
The base was not that valuable in itself. The resources put into it were small compared to the total wealth of Kanan. It was just that whichever City took it over would win a great prestige victory, making the other Cities look foolish in the eyes of the Menel.
It was a very simple situation, one that could lead to defeat and disaster for the Kananites. They'd abolished war but they hadn't abolished competition, politics, or intrigue. In fact they were so in love with their polite political rivalries that they seemed ready to sacrifice lives and wealth rather than give them up.
«Don't the governments of the Twenty Cities realize that the situation is changing fast?» he asked. «If the base can't defend itself, everybody is going to lose. Everybody is going to look silly in front of Menel, and perhaps worse. Do you think the Menel will be happy having their people die because the Kananites want to go on playing games?» He tried to speak calmly and almost succeeded.
«Blade, please,» said Riyannah, raising a hand to stroke his cheek. «I am not one of the high leaders even of my own City, let alone one who sits on the Council of Kanan. I am a scientist and your friend. That is all. I cannot even get a word from the Council here on the asteroid, when you will be taught Kananite or sent to Kanan! So do not be angry with me for not changing what I cannot change. Do you think I want the Targans defeated any less than you do?»
«No, Riyannah. I shouldn't have let myself become angry with you. But damn it, you people can't sit around much longer, never mind who's to blame for what!»
«I'm sure the Kanan Council knows this as well as you do,» she said. «Or at least they will, once they receive word of Chard's starship. Certainly they will send more patrol ships here. Anything more will take time. The old way of doing things has kept the peace on Kanan for a thousand years. Do you want us to risk becoming like the Targans in order to defeat them?»
«Of course not.»
There wasn't much else to say. The Kananites had certainly accomplished something worthwhile by outlawing war. Unfortunately they'd also outlawed quick decision-making, even when they badly needed it. Loyun Chard didn't sound like the sort of man to wait around politely while his enemies argued over the best way to fight him.
The days dragged on, one by one, slowly adding up to weeks. Blade had given up hope of being taught the Kananite language. All he hoped for now was a starship to Kanan, where he might be allowed to put his case before the Council of Kanan. He was prepared to use Riyannah as an interpreter if necessary.
More days. Blade began to wonder if the asteroid Council had decided he shouldn't go to Kanan at all. What was wrong with them? Did they think he was a Targan in disguise? He knew Riyannah was practically camping on the Council's doorstep, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. Blade began to feel like a caged tiger, and sometimes he couldn't keep himself from snarling at Riyannah.
Then at last the Menel came to his rescue.
Riyannah returned one evening from her daily visit to the Council office with a broad grin on her face and several bottles under her arm.
«We can celebrate, Richard,» she said, kissing him. «We're going to Kanan in a Menel ship!»
Blade grinned. «Did you have anything to do with this, by some chance?»
«I suppose I did. There was the commander of the Menel patrol ships at the base. When I talked to him about how his people in the two ships we saw died, I mentioned our own problems. He said he couldn't promise anything, but he'd speak to the other Menel leaders here.»
«I thought the Menel might have their own opinions on all this-delay,» Blade said. He'd almost said «nonsense,» but he didn't want to be rude, not with the first battle won. «When do we leave?»
«The ship will be landing here tomorrow. Then they'll have to unload its cargo and p
assengers. We'll be on our way in two or three days.»
Blade started twisting the top off one of the bottles. «Riyannah, get some glasses. We are indeed going to celebrate.» Then he noticed that Riyannah was unfastening her tunic. He smiled.
«All right. There's more than one way to celebrate, and we've got plenty of time.»
Chapter 14
The Menel ship had only one cabin fitted out for humanoid passengers, and that was obviously a hasty job. The mattress on the bed was as hard as concrete and humped in the middle so that anyone on it tended to roll off the bed the minute they fell asleep. The rug on the floor seemed to have bits of broken glass embedded in it. The walls were covered with tiles in putrid greens and browns. Blade got the general impression that whoever fitted out the cabin had heard of humanoid beings and perhaps even seen pictures of them, but no more.
Fortunately the Menel breathed the same kind of air and drank the same kind of water as Kananites and humans. With a case of food and another case of wine Blade and Riyannah expected to stay alive, if not exactly comfortable, all the way to Kanan.
On the wall of the cabin just above the bed was a large square of bronze-tinted glass. «That's the ship's entertainment system,» said Riyannah. «We can leave it off most of the time, unless you really want to watch discussions of the work of a Menel playwright who's been dead for more than a thousand years. I can even ask the captain to leave it off when we make our Transition.»
The Kananites and Menel used a faster-than-light drive that depended on a Zin Field-Pursas Zin being the Kananite scientist who'd discovered it. When the Zin Field reached a critical strength, the ship generating it dropped out of normal space into-somewhere else. For some unguessable time it was nowhere and nowhen in terms of conventional, relativistic space. Then the Transition came to an end and the ship reappeared, four or five light-years from where it had been.
In the early days of interstellar flight, a good many ships turned on their Zin Fields, entered the Transition, and never came out again. Over the centuries both Kananites and Menel refined the process and reduced the risks. Now it was considered cause for alarm if one ship was lost in Transition every ten years out of the thousand or so the Menel and Kananites had shuttling back and forth among the stars.
Blade wanted to see the Transition. «I've been through enough of them in our own ships. I'd like to see how yours compares with ours.»
«Wouldn't they be the same, if the principles of the drive are the same?»
Blade shook his head. «I'm not a power plant engineer, remember? I don't even know if your drive engines look like ours, let alone work the same way.»
«Very well,» said Riyannah. «I thought I'd warn you, because some Transitions are incredibly violent. People have been known to go temporarily insane or be unconscious for several days. At the very least you may get sick to your stomach.»
«We'll put a bucket beside the bed,» said Blade, laughing. «Blast it, Riyannah, anyone would think you didn't want me to watch the Transition.»
He'd said it as a joke, but didn't miss the swift change of expression on her face at the words. She was trying to keep him from watching the Transition, or at least suspected someone else would be happier if he didn't-someone in authority.
He'd have to be careful when the Transition came, hiding any physical reactions as much as he could. Otherwise he might blow his cover story of being an experienced space traveller. Riyannah might become suspicious, and then-well, she'd never let her affection for him drive her to putting her people in danger. He was sure of that.
Even if she didn't become suspicious herself, once more there was the possibility of her saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. If the Kananites played politics the way Riyannah described, many of them would be shrewd, skeptical observers, with a keen eye for flaws in a cover story.
Damn it, though, what did he have to worry about? His brain and body had survived all the numerous transitions from Dimension to Dimension. Surely they wouldn't let him down over a leap across a mere few light-years?
Besides, he was going to be the first man of Home Dimension Earth ever to travel across interstellar space. He wanted to be awake, aware, and watching when the moment came.
Blade and Riyannah went aboard the ship, unpacked their gear, and ate dinner. Two hours later the ship took off. On the screen Blade saw the asteroid shrink slowly. On the half turned toward the sun, light blazed from the polished metal of the buildings on the surface. On the half in shadow, chains of multicolored lights looped and spiraled everywhere. It looked magnificent, and also horribly vulnerable.
The asteroid shrank until it was no more than the brightest of a thousand stars on the screen. Then suddenly the stars turned into ragged globes of light, spreading out until they met and mingled. They were visibly crawling across the screen, and at the same time Blade felt the floor under him vibrating like a giant's drum. Then the screen went blank.
Blade lay back among the pillows and tried to brace himself in a position where he wouldn't roll off the bed. The ship was accelerating now at nearly a quarter the speed of light, racing straight away from Targa's sun. It would travel at this speed until it was about five billion miles from the sun. Any closer and the sun's gravity would distort the Zin Field, endangering the ship.
A quarter of the speed of light. Fast enough to travel from the Earth to the Moon in six seconds. Nothing sent out into space by Home Dimension Earth had ever reached more than a tiny fraction of that speed. Some scientists in Home Dimension said nothing ever could reach it. Yet the Menel ship, a hundred thousand tons of metal, reached that speed as easily as a car accelerating on a freeway.
The ship was on the Menel «day» of about twenty-nine Home Dimension hours. On the morning of the fourth day, Blade woke up to hear a faint chime going ting-ting-ting, not loudly but urgently. The screen was alive with dancing spirals of crimson and green light.
Blade untangled himself from Riyannah and sat up. That woke her. She looked at the screen, then gripped Blade's hand. «That's the Transition warning. If we're going to take any drugs we'd better do it now, to give them time to work.» Blade shook his head. «Very well. What about the screen?» Another shake of the head. Riyannah threw her arms wide in a gesture of comic despair. «All right. Don't say afterward I didn't warn you!»
Blade pulled one of the chairs to where he could see the screen without moving his head. Then he sat down in it and leaned back as far as it would let him. Riyannah lay down on the bed, pulled a blanket over her, and braced herself in place with pillows.
The gong sounded again, the same ting-ting-ting but now much louder, more like a fire alarm. The spirals on the screen froze, then vanished, leaving the screen glowering darkly down at the cabin.
Then the cabin seemed to burst apart in a sudden, utterly silent explosion. Ceiling, tiled walls, carpeted floor, Riyannah on the bed, the screen itself all rushed away from Blade and vanished into a starless space far too black to be natural. Blade was alone in a void where his eyes saw nothing and the only sound was like a distant organ playing inside his head.
He tried to turn his head and could not. He tried to move his limbs and felt them held rigidly, as if space itself was throwing iron bands around all his joints and muscles. He opened his mouth and tried to shout, but his throat and chest were paralyzed.
Then the organ music in his head swelled, and its pitch rose until it was a torturing scream like a jet engine running up. He felt a shuddering and a vibration all over him, increasing until he knew his bones were pulling apart and his flesh was going to pull free of the bones in another moment.
He was flying apart, and the space around him went red with the agony in his disintegrating body. Then the redness faded, the blackness returned for a moment, and after that he could not even feel whether he was alive or dead.
Blade came back to consciousness lying on his stomach on the floor while Riyannah straddled his buttocks, gently massaging his neck and shoulders. He tried to move a
nd discovered why she was massaging him. Every muscle and joint in his body ached as if he'd been pounded with clubs or crippled by arthritis. He decided to lie quietly and let Riyannah finish her work.
Her slim fingers were strong and highly skilled. After a few minutes Blade felt most of the actual pains fading to dull aches. «All right, Riyannah. Enough.» She climbed off him and sat cross-legged on the rug as he rose and tested each arm and leg separately.
«You were unconscious long enough to make me start to worry,» she said. «I didn't know if it was your mind or your body, but I was frightened. Menel ships don't carry doctors to treat other races.»
Blade found that he was horribly thirsty. He went over to the water tap and drank until all the dryness was out of his throat. Then he took Riyannah in his arms and stroked her hair. He could feel her trembling as he held her.
«This Transition wasn't as long as the ones aboard Earth ships, but it was more intense. Different wavelengths of the two fields, I suppose, but there wasn't anything in it that's going to be dangerous. You don't need to worry about me.»
«That's good,» said Riyannah slowly. «I–I thought I might have hurt or killed you by getting you aboard a Menel ship. I don't want to think about-«
«So don't think about it,» said Blade, silencing her with a kiss. «I needed to get to Kanan, and it was certainly too far to walk.»
She laughed, then her hands began moving on him, not massaging but in a different, very familiar way. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, and as he did his lips traveled down her throat to her breasts.
Afterward Riyannah fell asleep as if she'd been stunned. Blade found that once again his mind was working so fast he couldn't have slept if he'd wanted to.
He'd been wired into Lord Leighton's computer and hurled into Dimension X twenty-nine times now. Each time most of the sights and sensations which came to him as his brain twisted were unique. Some of them were identical ones by now, especially the feeling that the fabric of space itself was shaking, tearing, pulling apart, and his own body doing the same. Sometimes that sensation lasted for no more than a few heartbeats, but it was always there, unmistakable and unforgettable.