*
It is over. I do not know if I will be able to live with myself, but what’s happened has happened, and I shall record it because if I’m ever contacted by my own people the record will be of importance.
Long before dawn Commander Feric came back to our dungeon, and with him were still more guards, among them the sadistic one whose emotions I dared not sense. And it was that guard who laid hands on me and propelled me over to the table, upon which I was required to lie prone. I offered no resistance; when the Commander asked if I realized that this was my last chance, I simply nodded, knowing that he did not expect me to do anything else. He knew I didn’t fear the pain, and while he no doubt hoped to weaken me through physical shock, the thing was carried through mainly to impress us with the fact that he meant business. From that standpoint it was successful: Kari’s stamina at last gave way, and during the proceedings she collapsed. They allowed her to sit down after that, but they made her keep her eyes open and watch. I tried to console her, but for a while I was much too preoccupied to manage any telepathy.
I won’t relate the particulars of what was done to me; they aren’t details that I care to remember. Not that I suffered seriously; the pain of burning flesh is no worse than that of electrical nerve stimulation, though it seems so because of your instinctive and uncontrollable aversion to any sort of bodily damage. My well-practiced defense overrode most of the physical sensations. The trouble was, it couldn’t banish the horror of anticipating those sensations for Kari, besides which I had the problem of consciously dropping the Shield. That had to take precedence, for it is hard to keep up two complex psychic processes at the same time.
There will, of course, be scars. (They won’t show when I’m fully clothed; since Commander Feric was still planning to let me appear in public, he saw to it that certain restraints were observed.) I do not really mind, for here it scarcely matters, and if I am ever rescued, Federation doctors will be able to erase them easily enough.
Eventually, I was lifted from the table and helped over to the bench facing my interrogator, while Kari, paralyzed with terror but still unprotesting, was bound in my place. And at that moment, the door opened to admit Randil. The Commander, supposing him to be interested only in questioning me after I confessed, had not seen fit to let him in sooner, for he knew he didn’t approve of torture, and he was sure that I would give in rather than let Kari be harmed.
My last trace of hope evaporated. Randil had done nothing about the ship. It was still intact; if it were not, he would have told me instantly.
“What you’ve just experienced was only a small sample,” Commander Feric was saying to me. “I know you, Elana. I know you can’t watch your friend die in such a fashion; you simply can’t stomach it.”
And I knew it, too. Yet I also knew that neither could I give the word that would send that invulnerable Federation ship out across the continents, loaded with nuclear bombs. Perhaps, I thought, I would simply go crazy … perhaps I’d fold up and become absolutely unhinged! The pain of my burns began to break through, and I realized, almost with surprise, that despite my inborn healing powers there would be days of continuous pain, the control of which would surely sap my psychic energy.
I was dizzy; I wasn’t even thinking lucidly. Randil was pale but in command of himself, and I wanted to reach out to him for aid. He was trying to communicate, I felt dimly, but I seemed unable to respond or even to understand.
“Well, Elana?” the Commander demanded. “Are you ready to cooperate?”
Then one clear thought reached me, sure, insistent—a thought not from Randil but from Kari. No, Elana! she urged. No, let them kill me; don’t tell them anything!
It shook me out of my stupor, and I threw all the strength and all the faith I could summon into my reply. I won’t. There’s nothing to fear, Kari. Inside you’re all right; they can’t touch your real self. We’ll help you. I’ll stay with you telepathically, and so will Randil.
Randil? But how—?
I can’t explain it to you. Call it a miracle if you like. But if you speak silently to him, he will answer.
Watching their faces, I knew that the contact had been made, and that to Kari it was indeed a miracle, a heaven-sent miracle to sustain her in the moment of her greatest need. Randil could give her more than I could, and I saw that he was strong enough to do it.
But if this had to happen, it must not happen for nothing! The ship could still be destroyed if Randil could be convinced. If shock treatment hadn’t done it, there was only one thing that might: a direct admission of the Neo-Statists’ plans from Commander Feric. The Commander would not make such an admission in front of Randil; he had been told that the Jutans had intended their gift to be used for peaceful purposes. He would not—unless, perhaps, he could be made angry enough to forget himself. That wasn’t inconceivable, for if I was close to losing control, so was he; there was nothing worse he could do to me, and his own reputation—maybe even his safety—was at stake. I sensed unprecedented desperation in him and knew that I could capitalize on it.
“I will never give you any information,” I declared staunchly. “Could my sympathy for one innocent woman be greater than my concern for all the people who’ll die if my mission fails? I won’t confess just for her sake, and you will bear the blame! You’ll look pretty ridiculous, won’t you, when the infallible secret weapon of your glorious State blows up after all? You’ve been telling the commandant that it can’t happen because you’ve found the key to breaking me. But you haven’t found it, and you have very little time left. Who will he want to break, I wonder, when it’s too late for you to make any more promises? His superiors will demand a scapegoat, I should imagine—”
Commander Feric’s face darkened. He knew only too well that what I said was entirely true. If the “secret weapon” should be lost after he had had me in custody for days, he would be the laughing stock of the SSP; but worse, the dictator would exact a heavy price.
“You are less of a realist than I thought,” he told me in cold fury. “I have found the key. I have touched your most sensitive spot. What you’re suffering now is minor, a mere prelude. One innocent woman? Don’t you know that there are a hundred innocents on the streets of Cerne whom I could have in this room through a single order? Do you think I would count them? Do you think their lives are of any consequence whatsoever, balanced against the victory of the People’s State over the decadent governments of the Libertarians? I tell you, Elana, nothing will be allowed to stand in the way of that victory! You are deluding yourself if you think you have no limits. Your friend has agreed to martyr herself, that is now plain; perhaps she’s not as innocent as I’ve believed. But there are plenty who will not agree, and when one after the other is put to death before your eyes—”
I didn’t hear the rest; I fainted. I really did faint. The next thing I knew, guards were splashing water over my face, and Dr. Sturn was there, and there were needle marks on my wrist. They had bandaged my burns, not out of mercy but out of concern for keeping me conscious. Kari? I probed fearfully.
I’m all right. They haven’t done anything yet. I think we’re in a nightmare, Elana; I think maybe we’re going to wake up and find that none of this is true!
Perhaps that is what happens, I thought, when people die. Perhaps Kari is the luckiest one of us all. But that wouldn’t make sense, for if that were the way of it, what point would there be in trying to save any world?
Randil’s thought came through to me, distinctly this time, with unflinching steadiness. I tried, Elana. I tried to get back to the ship, but I couldn’t. They won’t let me near it anymore.
That he would be unable to reach it had never occurred to me. It meant utter failure. The “shock treatment” had been useless, and for that matter, so had my whole ordeal, not to mention Kari’s.
Miserably, I explained to Randil how I’d deceived him. He had already guessed most of it—Kari, in their first exchange, had assured him that what he’d witnessed earl
ier had been an act—and he didn’t reproach me. It woke me up, he admitted. How much does she know?
Practically nothing, except that the information they want from me would enable them to start a nuclear war. I told her that both you and I were involved in a plot to prevent it. To her, that was sufficient; she—she consented, Randil. You see why I had to hold out?
I saw after yesterday, he conceded grimly, and we’ve no choice now but to go on stalling till I can do something. I haven’t found a way to manage it alone; but if you’ve got any ideas, I’ll take your orders. You are Senior.
His acknowledgment roused my last and deepest resources. There had to be some means of getting into that ship, and as Senior Agent, I knew it was up to me to figure it out.
You receive inspiration, I guess, when your need is desperate enough. Anyhow, a ruse came into my mind. It was an outside chance, but as Randil had said, we had to do something. Hastily, I communicated it to him, pretending to be not quite fully revived in order to gain time.
But Elana, he protested, if it works, you’ll die! The circuits for psychokinetic detonation can’t be fixed; the thing has to be set off manually.
You mean you’ll die yourself, no matter how you get in? Randil, if I’d realized, I wouldn’t have put what I said yesterday in the form of an order.
I know that. I hope you know it wasn’t what made me so hard to convince. It can’t be helped; but why both of us?
Can you think of anything else?
No, he admitted.
Then try the ruse! Never mind me; try it now, while we can still save Kari by it.
I left him no alternative. To Commander Feric he said slowly, “I’ve no doubt that you can break this woman in time by the method you’ve suggested, but frankly, it’s as distasteful to me as it is to her. The people of Juta would find it equally so, if it ever became known to them; and should any accident befall this ship, you would surely not want them to refuse you another—”
“Another?” Commander Feric got hold of himself, immediately alert to the idea of hedging his bet. He had assumed that the Jutans’ psychology was just like his own, and that they would interpret any sabotage involving the ship as a sign of weakness in his government. The thought that a replacement might be offered had never entered his head. “Have you some other suggestion?” he asked Randil. “Naturally, we don’t want to offend the Jutan people.”
“Yes,” Randil declared. “I think that if the woman were questioned within the ship, she might betray herself.”
“Why should she?”
Randil hesitated. “You have said that I don’t understand your ways, but it’s also true that you don’t understand ours. We of Juta have many abilities of which I haven’t yet told you.”
Commander Feric regarded him thoughtfully. “Have you a way to induce this woman to speak?”
“Not to speak, but nonetheless to give herself away. She has boasted that an explosive device has been placed in the ship, yet your search has revealed nothing. Moreover, the ship cannot be damaged by an ordinary bomb; it is, as I have explained, invulnerable to all forces known on Toris. Obviously, any sabotage that has occurred involves damage to the power source or to the controls. I’m more familiar with that control board than any of your men, and I also have a certain facility at—well, at getting the truth from people’s minds. Give me a few minutes in the ship with this agent, and she’ll involuntarily reveal to me whatever she knows of what’s been done to it. Of course I won’t be able to get a full confession or the names of her associates; but once she’s rendered the plot ineffective, I believe you’ll find her easier to work with.”
The Commander frowned; feeling that he was about to refuse, I embarked upon the ultimate gamble. Tell him the truth! I ordered. Tell him you suspect that I’ve deceived him!
“It is always possible,” Randil continued, “that she has been bluffing all along. If so, I will know it when I sense her reactions; I’m sure I will. I pledge that the ship will be replaced if I judge her wrongly.”
That clinched it. Commander Feric took the bait. He already suspected that Jutans possessed somewhat mysterious powers, since Randil’s knowledge of my arrest had never been adequately explained; moreover he knew, once it was pointed out to him, that I could very well be bluffing. All the pieces fit: Randil’s original insistence that the ship had not been endangered; the testimony of the guards; the SSP’s failure to turn up any evidence of an organized plot; and above all, his own knowledge that I was cool enough and clever enough to pull it off. And I let him know. I averted my face while Randil spoke, but with telepathic projections I gave away the truth, and the Commander grasped it eagerly. He might not have dared to stake his life on it, but Randil had offered him the perfect out.
He fell for our ruse; it worked beautifully. There was only one thing we hadn’t anticipated. He took Kari with us.
Why, I’m not really sure. Perhaps he thought her presence would deter me from any rash moves. Perhaps he planned to kill her right there, on the spot, if Randil showed no signs of getting anywhere with me. At any rate, we were both given back our regular prison uniforms and, after the doctor pronounced me in astonishingly good shape for a person who had just suffered third-degree burns, we were escorted under heavy guard to a waiting car.
Randil and I were aghast. Death for ourselves, yes; we were, after all, sworn agents. But for Kari, when it was so unnecessary…
At least it will be quick, merciful, I reminded him. Better than the other way.
Yes, he agreed, but his thought faltered, and I wasn’t entirely sure that Randil would be capable of setting off that destruct device with Kari at his side.
*
In the car, Randil experienced the worst inner upheaval he had known. Kari was close to him, cut off by a heavy wire mesh barrier that separated the back seat from the front, yet closer than ever before because their minds had touched. But for the moment his thoughts were too turbulent for him to communicate any further.
Kari’s calm bearing and the quiet way in which she had resigned herself to her fate were more than he could understand. But then, he thought, there was a great deal he didn’t understand about what had gone on in the prison. Knowing the agony Kari would be facing, knowing the fright she had always felt at the mere mention of the secret police and their rumored treatment of prisoners, he had expected her to be past caring when he’d gone back, despairingly, to share her ordeal. He had expected to give love, to sustain her through love, but he had not thought that she would be able to respond. To his amazement, she had returned as much as she had received.
Vaguely, Randil recalled having heard an old and distinguished agent, a veteran of missions to innumerable worlds, say that the most terrible things can, on occasion, be at the same time the most wonderful. That had been beyond his grasp; it had seemed too much of a paradox. He was beginning to fathom it, however, for something very wonderful had happened between himself and Kari. Their first telepathic contact had been uplifting for them both; the rapture of shared thought had overshadowed even the horror of the circumstances. Kari had been afraid, but she had risen above her fear to the extent of exulting in their newfound mental intimacy. He had not needed to tell her that love was stronger than pain. She had already known. In a sense it had been as though she were giving him courage! They had accepted what must come, not in despair but in the knowledge that nothing could violate either their inner wholeness or their love for one another; and for a brief time the darkness of that prison had been truly illuminated.
And then he had been plunged back into the real world, the harsh world, and the illumination had faded, and there was no more acceptance in him. Miraculously, he had won the opportunity to destroy the ship after all. It had become possible to prevent the disaster he had brought upon this planet, and he knew he should give thanks not only with his mind but with his whole heart. Instead, he found himself raging against the ironic twist of fortune that had handed him a decision harder than any he had yet made
.
Earlier, he had wanted to do the thing; he had wanted to because he could save Kari by it. Now, abruptly, the situation was reversed. Now it would not save Kari; it would kill her. To be sure, it would be better for Kari to die quickly than to die by torture; but was there no other possibility? There might be! Suddenly, Randil saw, with a tremendous surge of excitement, that Kari need not die at all.
The city was behind them. The road leading out to the ship’s secret cavern was dark and deserted, and dawn was still far off. The car in which they were traveling was a special one, designed for transporting prisoners; Elana and Kari were alone in its back seat. No guards were with them since, because of the metal grille as well as the absence of inside door handles, there was no conceivable way for them to get out. In the front seat with Randil there was no one but Commander Feric and the driver, neither of whom had any reason to suspect him.
He could overpower them. He could do it without any trouble at all! There would be no need to start a fight; he could simply stop the car by psychokinetic tampering with its engine—which would cause the driver to get out and look for the trouble—and then take the Commander’s gun by the same means. He would never, of course, injure the men, but they wouldn’t know that. So once he had the gun, he could disarm the driver and force Commander Feric out, too. After taking the driver’s uniform and papers, he would just drive away, and there would be no pursuit in such lonely countryside. The scheme was foolproof.
But if he used it, Randil realized hopelessly, there would be no way to gain access to the landing craft. It would be fine if he could let Kari and Elana out somewhere a safe distance away and go on to do what must be done, but that wouldn’t work. The sentries at the gate would stop him. If they recognized him, they would not let him into the ship, not if they were concealing armaments; it would be too suspicious for him to arrive alone. And if they were new guards who didn’t recognize him, they still wouldn’t let him in, for he would not have the proper clearance. Only a known official like Commander Feric would be admitted to a top-secret installation. Unescorted by the Commander, he hadn’t a chance of getting inside.
The Far Side of Evil Page 26