by Jack Vance
“Because your brains see into the over-world. You will lead us to the gher.”
Burke protested; Tarbert argued; Margaret sat in apathy. Apiptix made a peremptory gesture. “Be quick. Or you will be killed.”
The flat intonations gave the threat a dire and immediate significance. Burke, Tarbert and Margaret hastily walked from the building.
XII
THE XAXAN space-ship was a long flattened cylinder, with a row of turrets along the top surface. The interior was harsh and comfortless and smelled of Xaxan materials and of the acrid leathery odor of the Xaxans themselves. Above, cat-walks communicated with the turrets. Forward, were controls, dials, gauges, instruments; to the stern, were engines hooded under pods of pinkish metal. The three Earth-people were assigned no specific quarters and none seemed available for any members of the crew. When not occupied with one duty or another, the Xaxans sat stolidly on benches, occasionally exchanging a rattle of conversation.
Apiptix spoke only once to the Earth-people: “In which direction lies the gher?”
Tarbert, Burke and Margaret concurred that the gher was to be found in that direction marked by the constellation Perseus.
“How far, or is this revealed to you?”
None of the three could hazard so much as a guess.
“In this case we will proceed until there is a sensible change in its direction.” The Xaxan marched away.
Tarbert sighed ruefully. “Will we ever see Earth again?”
“I wish I knew,” said Burke.
Margaret said, “Not even a toothbrush. Not even a change of underclothes.”
“You might borrow something of the sort from one of the Xaxans,” Burke suggested. “Apiptix is lending Tarbert his electric razor.”
Margaret gave him a sour smile. “Your humor is just a trifle misplaced.”
“I’d like to know how all of this works,” said Tarbert, looking up and down the compartment. “The propulsion system is like nothing I’ve ever heard of.” He signaled Apiptix, who after an impersonal and incurious stare, approached. “Perhaps you’ll explain the working of the engines to us,” Tarbert suggested.
“I know nothing of this matter,” stated the voice-box. “The ship is very old; it was built before the great wars.”
“We’d like to learn how the engines operate,” said Burke. “As you know, we don’t even recognize velocities higher than light-speed.”
“You may look as you like,” said Apiptix, “because there is nothing to see. As to sharing our technology with you, I think it unlikely. You are a volatile and tendentious race; it is not to our interest that you over-run the galaxy.” He stalked away.
“A graceless set of barbarians,” growled Tarbert.
“They don’t display much charm, for a fact,” said Burke. “On the other hand they don’t seem afflicted with any of the human vices.”
“A noble race,” said Tarbert. “Would you want your sister to marry one?”
Conversation lapsed. Burke tried to look into the para-cosmos. He realized a dim image of the ship, which might have been a function of the image-forming faculty of his mind rather than “clairvoyance,” but no more. Beyond was darkness.
From sheer fatigue the three slept. When they awoke, they were fed, but otherwise ignored. They wandered the ship without hindrance, and found mechanisms of incomprehensible purpose, fabricated by methods and procedures which seemed quaint and strange.
The voyage continued, and only the motion of hour—and minute—hands gave a measure of time. Twice the Xaxans performed some operation which allowed the ship to coast in normal interstellar space, in order that the Earth-people could indicate the direction of the gher, after which the course was adjusted and the ship urged once again into motion. During these halts it seemed as if the gher had relaxed from its previous baleful concentration. The yellow orb floated at the top, like an egg yolk in a cup of ink. As to its distance, this was yet indefinite; in the para-cosmos “distance” had no precise measurement, and Burke and Tarbert uneasily contemplated the possibility that the gher might inhabit a remote galaxy. But on the third half, the gher no longer hung before them, but to the stern, in the precise direction of a dim red star. The gher now was enormous and brooding, and even as they gazed at the black hulk the yellow orb came tumbling around to occupy the frontal surface. It was difficult to evade a sensation that this was an organ of perception.
The Xaxans turned the ship, proceeded back along the way they had come. When they next brought it out of quasi-space, the red star hung below, attended by a single cool planet. Focusing his perceptions, Burke saw the loom of the gher superimposed upon the disk of the planet.
Here was the home of the gher. The landscape of the planet dominated the background: a dark strange land of faintly iridescent swamps and regions of what seemed cracked and caked mud. The gher occupied the center of the landscape, its filaments spreading in all directions, the orb rolling and pulsing.
The ship went into orbit around the planet. The surface, by telescopic magnification, appeared flat, almost featureless, marked by an occasional oily swamp. The atmosphere was rare, cold and mephitic. At the poles were tumbles of a black crusty substance, like charred paper. There was nothing to indicate the presence of life, neither artifacts, ruins, or illumination; and indeed the single noteworthy feature of the planet was a great chasm in the high latitudes, a crevasse like a split in an old croquet ball.
Burke, Tarbert, Pttdu Apiptix and three other Xaxans arrayed themselves in air-suits, entered the tender. It detached itself from the ship and drifted down toward the surface. Burke and Tarbert, examining the flat panorama, finally agreed on the location of the gher: a small lake or pond at the center of a wide basin, into which the sunlight struck at a long slant.
The tender keened through the upper atmosphere, settled upon a low knoll a half-mile from the pond.
The group alighted into the wan red sunlight, to stand upon a surface of shale and gravel. A few yards distant was a black knee-high growth of what seemed lichen: a crumbling efflorescence, like carbonized cabbage leaves. The sky was purple above, shading to a sulphurous brown at the horizons; the basin was a dismal expanse tinted maroon by the sunlight. At the center, the ground became moist and black, altered first to a glistening slime, then finally to liquid. Humping from the surface was a leathery black sac.
Tarbert pointed. “There is the gher.”
“Insignificant, isn’t it,” said Burke, “compared to its analogue.”
Apiptix blinked and stared into the para-cosmos. “It knows we are here.”
“Yes,” said Burke. “It definitely does. It’s quite agitated.”
Apiptix brought forth his weapon, strode off down the slope. Burke and Tarbert followed, then halted in wonder. In the para-cosmos the gher heaved and convulsed, then began to exude a vapor, which ordered itself into a tall shadow: a semi-human shadow towering—how far? A mile? A million miles? The gher seemed to loosen, to relax while the shadow condensed, absorbing substance from the gher. It became hard and dense. Burke and Tarbert called out in trepidation. Apiptix swung around. “What is the matter?”
Burke pointed into the sky. “The gher is building something. A weapon.”
“In the para-cosmos? How can it hurt us?”
“I don’t know. If it concentrates enough weak energy— billions of ergs—”
“That’s what it’s doing!” cried Tarbert. “There it is!”
A hundred feet ahead appeared a dense black bipedal body, something like a headless gorilla, eight or ten feet tall. It had long arms ending in pincers; the feet were equipped with talons. It hopped forward with sinister intent.
Apiptix and the Xaxans aimed their weapons. A purple blaze struck at the gher-creature, which gave no sign of hurt. Giving a great bound it leapt at the foremost Xaxan. Whether through discipline, fanatic courage or hysteria the Xaxan met its charge, grappled it hand to hand. The fight was short and horrid; the Xaxan was torn apart and his viscera sca
ttered across the caked gray mud. His weapon fell at Tarbert’s feet. Tarbert seized it and yelled in Burke’s ear: “The gher!” and set off at a shambling run toward the pond. Burke’s knees were like jelly. With great effort he forced himself to follow.
The monster stood rocking on its black legs, torso glowing in the blaze of the Xaxan weapons. Then it turned and lumbered after Tarbert and Burke, who ran across the oozing surface in an episode as terrifying and unreal as the most fearful of nightmares.
Smoking and torn, the creature caught up with Burke, struck him a blow that knocked him cart-wheeling, and continued after Tarbert, who slogged with great effort across the glistening slime. Denser and heavier, the monster floundered but lurched forward. Burke picked himself up, looked wildly around. Tarbert, now in range of the gher, aimed the unfamiliar weapon. The black creature stalked forward; Tarbert turned a fearful glance over his shoulder, and still fumbling with the weapon tried to dodge aside. His feet slid in the muck; he fell. The monster leapt forward, tramped upon Tarbert, then reached down with its pincers. Burke, staggering forward, grappled the creature from the rear. It felt as hard as stone, and as heavy, but Burke was able to thrust it off-balance, and it too toppled into the slime. Burke groped for the weapon, found it, frantically tried to find the trigger. The monster pulled itself erect and plunged at Burke, pincers wide. Close past Burke’s ear spit a stream of magenta fire. It struck the gher, which exploded. The headless black creature seemed to go porous, then fell apart into shreds and wisps. The para-cosmos fractured in a great gush of soundless energy, green and blue and white. When Burke once more regained his extra-world vision the gher was gone.
He went to Tarbert, helped him to his feet; all limped back to solid footing. The pond behind them lay flat and featureless.
“A most peculiar creature,” said Tarbert, in a voice still strained and choked. “Not at all nice.”
They stood looking at the pond. A breath of the cold air pushed sluggish ripples over the surface. The pool seemed barren and empty, devoid of the meaning which the presence of the gher had given it.
“It must have been a million years old,” said Burke.
“A million? Maybe much older.” And both Burke and Tarbert looked up at the dim red sun, appraising its past and wondering about the history of the planet. The Xaxans stood in a group not far distant, looking over the pond of the gher.
Burke spoke again. “I’d guess that when it couldn’t derive sustenance from the physical world it turned to the para-cosmos and became a parasite.”
“It’s a strange kind of evolution,” said Tarbert. “The nopal must have evolved along similar lines, probably, under similar physical conditions.”
“The nopal … they seem such trivial creatures.” And Burke turned his gaze into the para-cosmos, wondering if nopal were evident. He saw, as before, the ranked landscapes, the intricate foliations, the mapped connections, the pulsing lights. Certain far nopal—riding Xaxans? or Earth-folk? he couldn’t be sure—surveyed him with malevolent distrust. Elsewhere were others, with bulging eyes and vibrating plumes. These, so it seemed, were small and undeveloped, and seemed to flow in a stately parade from somewhere near at hand. This judgment might well be faulty, so deceptive were all appraisals of distance. As he studied the nopal, wondering as to their nature and where they derived he heard Tarbert’s voice. “Do you get the impression of a grotto?”
Burke peered into the para-cosmos. “I see cliffs—irregular walls. A crevasse? Would it be the same one we saw coming down?”
Apiptix called to them. “Come. We return to the ship.”
His mood seemed morose. “The gher has been destroyed. There are no more Tauptu. Only Chitumih. The Chitumih have won. We will alter this.”
Burke spoke hurriedly to Tarbert. “It’s now or never. We’ve got to make a move.”
“How do you mean?”
Burke nodded toward the Xaxans. “They’re ready to wipe out the nopal. We’ve got to hold them off.”
Tarbert hesitated. “Do we have any option?”
“Certainly. The Xaxans couldn’t find the gher without our help. They won’t be able to find the nopal. It’s up to us.”
“If we can get away with it. … There’s a possibility that with the gher gone they might relax, see reason.”
“We can try. If reason doesn’t work, we’ve got to use something else.”
“Such as what?”
“I wish I knew.”
They followed the Xaxans up the slope toward the tender. Burke stopped short. “I’ve had a thought.” He explained his idea to Tarbert.
Tarbert was dubious. “What if the stage effects don’t come off?”
“They’ve got to come off. I’ll do the reasoning; you take care of the persuasion.”
Tarbert gave a mournful laugh. “I don’t know if I can persuade that hard.”
Pttu Apiptix, standing beside the tender, motioned to them brusquely. “Come. There is still our final great task: we must destroy the nopal.”
“It isn’t quite that simple,” said Burke cautiously.
The Xaxan held his gray arms wide, fists clenched, each knuckle a knob of white bone: a gesture of exultation or triumph. The voice from the box was nevertheless flat and unaccented. “Like the gher, they must have their kernels in the base universe. You located the gher without difficulty, you shall do the same for the nopal.”
Burke shook his head. “Nothing good would come of it. We’ve got to think of something else.”
Apiptix abruptly dropped his arms, peered at Burke with topaz eyes. “I fail to understand. We must win our war.”
“Two worlds are involved. We must consider the best interests of both. For Earth any sudden destruction of the nopal would mean disaster. Our society is based upon individuality, privacy of thought and intent. If everyone suddenly achieved a psionic capacity, our civilization would become chaos. Naturally we do not care to inflict this disaster upon our planet.”
“Your wishes are immaterial! We are the ones who have suffered and you must follow our instructions.”
“Not when they’re irrational and irresponsible.”
The Xaxan considered him a moment. “You are bold. You must know that I can force you to obey me.”
Burke shrugged. “Conceivably.”
“You would tolerate these parasites?”
“Not permanently. In the course of years we shall either destroy them or make them socially useful. Before this happens we’ll have had time to adjust ourselves to psionic realities. And another consideration: we have our own war on Earth—the ‘cold war,’ against a particularly odious kind of enslavement. With psionic capabilities, we can easily win this war, with a minimum of bloodshed, to the ultimate benefit of everyone. For us, we gain nothing and lose everything by destroying the nopal —at this moment.”
The flat tones of the Xaxan’s voice-box were almost sardonic. “As you remarked, the interests of two worlds are involved.”
“Precisely. To destroy the nopal would injure your world as much as ours.”
Apiptix jerked back his head in surprise. “Absurd! After a hundred and twenty years you expect us to stop short of our goal?”
“You are obsessed with the nopal,” said Burke. “You forget the gher, which forced the war upon you.”
Apiptix looked off toward the sullen pond. “The gher is dead. The nopal remain.”
“Which is fortunate, since they may be crushed and used as protection —against themselves and all the other parasites of the para-cosmos.”
“The gher is dead. We shall destroy the nopal. Then we will need no more protection.”
Burke gave a short laugh. “Now who’s absurd?” He pointed to the sky. “There are millions of worlds like this one. Do you think the gher and the nopal are unique, the only creatures who inhabit the para-cosmos?”
Apiptix drew back his head like a startled turtle. “There are others?”
“Look for yourself.”
Apiptix stood ri
gid, straining to perceive the para-cosmos. “I see shapes I cannot understand. One in particular —an evil creature …” He looked at Tarbert who stood staring fixedly into the sky, then returned to Burke. “Do you see this creature?”
Burke looked into the sky. “I see something almost like the gher. … It has a bulging body, two large eyes, a beaked nose, long tentacles… .”
“Yes. This is what I see.” Apiptix stood silently. “You are right. We need the nopal for protection. Temporarily at least. Come; we will return.”
He marched away up the slope. Burke and Tarbert came behind. “You project a vivid octopus,” said Burke. “It even gave me a twinge.”
“I almost tried a Chinese dragon,” said Tarbert. “The octopus was probably more legitimate.”
Burke halted, searched the para-cosmos. “We really weren’t conning him. Not altogether. There must be other things like nopal and gher. I seem to see something far far away— like a tangle of angle-worms… .”
“Sufficient into the day the evil thereof,” said Tarbert in sudden exhilaration. “Let’s go home and scare hell out of the commies.”
“A noble thought,” said Burke. “We’ve also got a hundred kilograms of gold in the back of my car.”
“Who needs gold? All we need is clairvoyance and the black-jack tables at Las Vegas. It’s a system nobody can beat.”
The tender swung up from the ancient planet, slanting across the great crevasse which split the surface to an unknown depth. Looking down Burke saw puffs and plumed shapes drifting up, moving across space to a place in the para-cosmos where a distorted but familiar globe shone a lambent greenish-yellow.
“Dear old Nopalgarth,” said Burke. “Here we come.”