[Jan Darzek 05] - The Whirligig of Time

by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.

  "When you figure out a way to make a teleport hold still to be hypnotized, let me know." Darzek turned to look back at the grove. It actually was a tangle of stalklike vegetation on a rocky prominence that probably was unsuitable for agriculture. "I want to see that place," Darzek announced suddenly.

  They returned to the old farmer. "Sure, have a look," he said.

  "But if you're thinking the poor creature is hiding there, how would he get in? He'd have to tromp a path, and I can tell you no one has done that."

  "I think he could find a way in without a path, though I'll have to tromp one," Darzek said. "How does it happen that you left that hill there? Couldn't it be leveled easily and converted to productive land?"

  "Easily," the old farmer agreed. "But there're still a few wild creatures about, and that tangled grove is home to them. Every living creature is entitled to a home. So I leave it."

  They parted with him and went on up the hill. The slope was not steep, but exertion of any kind was so unnatural after life in a transmitterized society that Darzek was breathing heavily when he reached the top. Miss Schlupe trudged spiritedly at his side; she always was in exceptional physical condition despite he~ age - if not from demonstrating self -defense tactics to her commandos, just from bustling about.

  She said severely, "You should exercise more. Come and work out with us."

  "I should," Darzek agreed. "I spend too much time in conferences and in trying to think. Excellent exercise, but not for the body."

  They circled the grove. Obviously no one had forced his way into it from the outside. "Well," Darzek said finally, "I'll give it a try. But I think I can worm my way in there without leaving a trail, and I'd like to."

  "The farmer said -"

  "The farmer has four arms, which is two extra ones to get tangled in things. Handy for a wrestling match but inconvenient for squirming through small holes. Watch me."

  He dropped to his knees and started crawling.

  Fifteen minutes later, Miss Schlupe called anxiously, "Are you getting anywhere?"

  "I'm moving," Darzek said. "Where, I couldn't say."

  His clothing was wet with perspiration; his knees had acquired a layer of mud. The stalks, some as large as small tree trunks and just as unyielding, grew at every angle, and it was only by constantly casting about, backtracking, trying one way and then another, that he was able to find openings he could squeeze through. He wondered what sort of wild creatures made their homes in such a place.

  Then, abruptly, he found it.

  He broke through into an open space where the stalks had been cut recently. The stumps were still oozing a pungent, yellow sap. The cut stalks had been fashioned into a rough lean-to. Inside, piled at the back, were containers of foodstuffs, beverages, water. Nearby was a pile of bedding. The only incongruous items were a table and chair, placed at the front where the light was best. Darzek pondered the problem of teleporting furniture, but only for a moment. Something on the table caught his eye, and he stepped closer.

  It was a large sheet of the metallic parchment used as paper on Vezpro. And on the paper -

  Darzek bellowed for Miss Schlupe. Her answer, since it came from directly behind him, startled him.

  "I followed you," she explained. She bent over the table. "What is it?"

  "It looks like a distorted drawing of the device Forlan's scientific committee tested. That hodgepodge below it no doubt is the plan for the innards of the thing. Can you get back to Klinoz in a hurry and pick up some equipment to copy it?"

  "Why don't you take it?"

  "I'd rather Qwasrolk doesn't know it's been found. But just in case he returns and gets suspicious and decides to move, I'd better stay here."

  "All right. If it has to be brought in here, it'll have to be some kind of small camera. I'll find something." She paused. "Do you really think that Qwasrolk -"

  "We won't think anything at all about Qwasrolk until we find out what he's drawn."

  "Right. I'll hurry."

  She turned, dropped to her knees, and started out along the tortuous, wiggling path they'd followed in.

  Darzek seated himself on the edge of the table, prepared for a long wait. Fortunately every farmer had his own transmitter, and Miss Schlupe had only to walk back to the dwelling and step through to the nearest village, where a public transmitter would take her to Klinoz. How long it would take to find suitable equipment was another matter. He hoped she could make it back before dark.

  He waited. Finally the light in the little clearing began to grow dim. He regretted not thinking to tell her to get a camera with some kind of lighting arrangement.

  Abruptly Qwasrolk stood beside him. Darzek's sudden awareness was not of a physical presence, but of odors: unwashed clothing, decaying flesh, almost - he thought afterward - the horribly sweet, penetrating stench of death. He reacted instinctively. He grabbed the hideously disfigured form and held on.

  For an awful moment Qwasrolk struggled in his grasp, the skulllike face close to Darzek's. Then Darzek's hands were empty; Qwasrolk had vanished.

  Darzek had slipped from the table to his feet at the first thrust of the struggle, and now he stood motionless with the revolting feeling of having touched a corpse. Shreds of decaying flesh still adhered to one hand. He did not move until he had made up his mind. Then he rolled up the metallic parchment, tucked it inside his clothing to protect it, and started the arduous crawl out of the grove. He was walking down the slope toward the farmhouse when Miss Schlupe appeared.

  She hurried to meet him, carrying a tiny, cameralike object in the palm of her hand. He explained briefly what had happened. "I decided there was no point in leaving the plan there, since he probably won't return again," Darzek said.

  "Won't he return for the plan?" she asked.

  "What he's drawn and worked out once, he can do again. The question is, what is it?"

  16

  Darzek had a reproduction made of Qwasrolk's scribblings. Then he sent for UrsNollf, who was still studying the phenomenal transformation of the eleventh planet with Farlan's committee of scientists. Darzek handed the copy to him and asked, "Does this mean anything?"

  He sat down to study it. An hour later he was still silently engrossed, and Darzek quietly left him and went to see E-Wusk, who was performing the impossible task of tracking a spaceship across the galaxy and enjoying it immensely.

  "Still with it?" Darzek asked him.

  E-Wusk's huge body shook with merriment. "Ho! Ho! Ho! Look what they did!"

  He led Darzek over to a huge wall chart and showed him the tortuous convolutions the ransom ship and its companion had followed to throw off any pursuit. They had slipped from one crowded space lane to another, looped behind solar systems to mask their changes of direction, slipped off on tangential lanes and then doubled back; and finally, having made certain that no one and nothing could follow them, they had set course for the world of Dranga. They moored at a transfer station there, and one of E-Wusk's ships moored right beside them.

  "That's quite a maneuver," Darzek observed, studying the zigzagging line.

  "Ho! Ho! Every way they turned, I had a ship waiting for them." "What are they doing a Dranga?"

  "Nothing. Kernopplix disembarked there. The ships topped off their supplies and left immediately. I'm waiting for the report on their first jump."

  "Good work," Darzek said. "No one but you could have done it." "But of course not!" E-Wusk exclaimed, gurgling with merriment. Darzek returned to UrsNollf. Miss Schlupe had arrived, and they both silently watched the astrophysicist until he finally looked up at them with what Darzek had come to recognize as a scowl creasing his queerly offset head.

  "It isn't finished."

  "We had to grab it when we could or risk losing it," Darzek said.

  "What is it the beginning of?"

  "It's more than a beginning," UrsNollf said. "It's almost finished.

  Unfortunately, the final critical steps
-"

  "What is it that's almost finished?" Darzek demanded.

  "The detailed drawing of a device for turning a planet into a sun.

  Where did you get it?"

  "I think the less you know about that, the better. I want you to return to Primores at once and show this to Supreme. With that beginning, could Supreme complete those final critical steps?"

  "Perhaps. Is there a direct ship to Primores leaving soon?" "Ask Gud Baxak," Darzek said.

  "Yes. Of course."

  "And I remind you - what that document describes may be the most dangerous thing in the universe, apart from the person who invented it. No one is to know of its existence but the three of us - and Supreme. And when you show it to Supreme, make it clear that no one but yourself and the First Councilor is to have access to it. Once Supreme has it on record, destroy the document."

  "But it's only a copy!"

  "I'll assume responsibility for the original."

  "The person who produced the original easily could make another."

  "True. But if he does, he'll probably guard it carefully. We can't safeguard what we haven't got, but we can protect this, and we'd better."

  "Very well." UrsNollf carefully rolled up the scrawled drawing and its row after row of scribbled numbers and symbols. "I'll say this. The person who produced this document is the person who transformed Nifron D and this system's eleventh planet into suns. I say that because no one else, not even the finest scientists I've worked with, has been able to produce such a thing." He thrust the rolled plan inside his clothing. "I leave that problem to you, Gul Darr. I'll ask Gud Baxak to arrange passage to Primores for me."

  After he had gone, Miss Schlupe seated herself in her rocking chair, rocked for a moment, and then came to a full stop. "I don't believe it. Qwasrolk is too young, and too inexperienced, and too impoverished. He couldn't have done it."

  "He certainly didn't do it by himself," Darzek said. "Assembling a gadget of that complexity would require an enormous amount of time for a large number of people. On the other hand, Qwasrolk must have been a member of the organization. He certainly saw the original plans, even if he didn't produce them himself. He may have been trying to draw them from memory."

  "Why?"

  Darzek shrugged. "One more point. While Qwasrolk may have been involved in the Nifron D transformation, he almost certainly had nothing to do with that of the eleventh planet. His physical and mental condition wouldn't have permitted it. And though he once was a member of the organization, he isn't now. Otherwise, why would he be living in that grove and working in the open? He'd have a comfortable lab to work in."

  "So why was he drawing the plan?"

  "That's one of the many questions I'd love to ask him."

  The ransom ship and its companion crept across the galactic charts like arthritic ants. The Galactic Synthesis had no space navy - had no need for one - but E- Wusk had outfitted three survey ships with official Synthesis credentials and borrowed some proctors from Skarnaf to reinforce their crews, and these ships were following two jumps behind.

  As the line that traced their progress crept across the galaxy, Darzek became increasingly frustrated and worried. The growing communications time lag meant that their charts became more out of date with each passing day. Finally decisive news arrived. The ransom ship had been placed in orbit around a world so barren that no one had bothered to name or even number it. It was the third of three worthless planets of a sun called Klonarl. The chartered ship assumed a nearby orbit. Then, abruptly, it left.

  By prior arrangement, the three survey ships intercepted it three jumps away and boarded it. A careful search turned up only the two crews - the chartered ship's and the crew that had brought the ransom ship from Vezpro. The ransom ship's crew, following the sealed orders Kernopplix had supplied, had placed the ship in orbit around the Klonarl planet and transmitted to the chartered ship. The crew members knew nothing at all about what the ransom ship contained or why they had been ordered to abandon it - or so they said.

  The survey ships took both crews into custody in the name of Supreme and secured the chartered ship. Then, with other ships that E-Wusk was rushing to the scene, they moved into positions that would convert the Klonarl system into a foolproof trap, ready to snap shut the moment the villain attempted to collect his ransom.

  Darzek and E-Wusk sat back contentedly and waited. If the villain appeared, there was no possible way he could escape.

  Days went by; they continued to wait. A villain as crafty as this one could be expected to exercise caution. Five ships passed closely enough to the orbiting blackmail ship to detect its presence - heavy traffic on a seldom-used shipping lane - but they were allowed to proceed unmolested. Just in case the villain, or his agent, was making a safety check, the trap remained invisible.

  When thirty days had passed, Darzek stopped relaxing and began to worry. The crewless ship continued to orbit a dead world; no other ship went near it.

  "Perhaps he knows that his instructions weren't followed," E-Wusk suggested.

  "How could he, without boarding the ship and looking?" Darzek demanded. "Maybe the whole thing is a hoax, and he's sitting somewhere nearby watching our ships and laughing hilariously. I'd like to get this thing settled before we all die of old age."

  E-Wusk gestured resignedly with a cluster of limbs. "It's a mystery. As you say, he can't know that his instructions weren't followed if he doesn't approach the ship."

  "Who says so?" asked Miss Schlupe, who had just come in. They both gazed at her blankly.

  "I know at least one person who could find out easily." "Who?" Darzek asked.

  "Qwasrolk. He could teleport himself aboard, and your precious trap would never know he was there."

  Darzek said thoughtfully, "In that case, he knew before the ship left. He could enter any government building and eavesdrop on any conference. He could have checked the ship before it left the transfer station. Long before it was outfitted, he could have known all about your female commandos and also the plan to substitute males and use phony solvency certificates." He turned to E-Wusk. "Shall we call this farce off?"

  "I think," E-Wusk said meditatively, "that we could arrange a termination without ourselves or the world of Vezpro seeming to be involved."

  E-Wusk sent an official message to Primores. The Galactic Survey investigated his report of a ship left in orbit around an uninhabited planet, found that its crew had abandoned it, and exercised the authority of the Galactic Synthesis. It supplied a crew to take it to the nearest port, where salvage claims were advertised. Darzek posted one for the world of Vezpro, got it officially sanctioned, and sent a crew to bring the ship back.

  E-Wusk heaved a sigh of relief when the last step had been taken.

  He cleaned out his office and took down his charts. "My business is waiting," he said. "May I go home now?"

  "Better stick around for a while," Darzek said. "I have a hunch that our work hasn't even started."

  Kernopplix arrived at the Trans-Star office to ask if he might call on Gul Darr. It was like the spidery trader to save the fee of a messenger by running his own errands, but his presence on Vezpro shocked Darzek. Kernopplix was no more than a mercenary stooge, and he certainly would not have spent the solvency to return had he not been ordered back.

  Darzek met him, invited him into his living quarters, found a hassock that would accommodate his multiple legs, and offered refreshment - a most unusual gesture on Vezpro - which Kernopplix declined in a startled manner.

  "I had the impression that your work was finished," Darzek said. "My instructions were to wait at - at my stopping place - in case there was a final message to be delivered."

  "Ah! And there was such a message?"

  "Yes. I brought it by the most direct ship. And since you have been my contact with the Vezpronian government, I thought I should deliver it to you. I trust that you will promptly relay it to its destination."

&nb
sp; "The honor is mine," Darzek murmured.

  Kernopplix heaved a sigh. "Excellent. Now I can go home."

  He handed over the message. It was in the same form, and on the same material, as the previous messages. It bore the same seal. The address - to the government of Vezpro - was indited in the same way. It certainly looked authentic.

  "Thank you," Darzek said. "I'll see that it is relayed at once."

  "My thanks to you," Kernopplix said. His spidery legs found anchorage and heaved his heavy, bulging body upward.

  "One question," Darzek said. "Have you received your bonus yet?"

  "I trust that it will be waiting for me on Bbran. That was the agreement. "

  Darzek wished him a pleasant journey and a joyous arrival, and Kernopplix thanked him, delivered a farewell speech about the pleasure of their brief association, and scurried away.

  As soon as he had gone, Darzek broke the seal and opened the message.

  It wasted no words. It stated bluntly that the breach of faith on the part of the world of Vezpro had been total, with nine hundred males furnished instead of two hundred females, and worthless certificates of solvency tendered. Therefore, on the first day of the new cycle the world would be turned into a sun.

  Darzek pursed his lips and whistled silently for a moment. Then he went directly to Naz Farlan's office.

  Before the Mas of Science and Technology had a chance to greet him, Darzek handed over the message. Farlan read it carefully, read it again, and then looked up at Darzek.

  "Rather final, isn't it?" Darzek remarked lightly. "No second chances. No opportunity to mend our ways."

  "What do you suggest?" Forlan asked.

  "I don't know. It just arrived. I intend to do some thinking, and I recommend the same course to everyone concerned."

  "Is that the most the special emissary of Supreme can offer us?"

  Forlan asked, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

  "It wasn't the special emissary of Supreme who substituted males for females. And it wasn't the special emissary of Supreme who sent phony solvency certificates."