‘“If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them . . .”’
She listened avidly until the sleepy voice trailed into silence after
‘“As you from crimes would pardon’d be.
Let your indulgence set me free”.’
They picked up the staging the next ‘day’ where they had left off. Helva had the feeling none of the Corviki had left the ‘stage’ or were even aware that the troupe had been away. Did they control time as well as energy? Was time, as one Alpheccan theoretician maintained, merely another emission of energy?
Her perceptions were more acute today. She had control over her envelope and the sensory data it constantly received. And while the others were beginning to act, Ansra was consciously damping down.
Manager approached Ansra, in front of all, just before time was up.
‘There is no logical reason to withhold energy. Conservation is not the aim of this experiment. We are assessing the effects of this form of energy expulsion on the pressure-senses and dominance factors. You inhibit this experiment. Therefore, lose energy as the equative factors require.’
‘Or?’
A ripple of pressure and color answered Ansra’s ultimatum.
‘The envelope will be permanently emptied . . .’
‘I will not go back to that perverted seascape to be insulted and degraded in public,’ Ansra declared.
She was rather magnificent, Helva thought, even if she left her audience unmoved.
‘That is sufficient, Ansra Colmer,’ Prane said quietly, rising from the couch, his voice glacial, his eyes stony, his attitude unbending. ‘You have made your personal preferences and private opinions known to each and every member of the cast. However, there is more at stake than personal differences and everyone here has been exceedingly forbearing with your whimsies and little schemes. You will go back tomorrow and you will, as you were advised by the Manager, lose energy as the equative factors required.’
‘Who’s going to make me?’ Ansra struck a pose with that challenge.
‘Any one of us, honey,’ Nia Tubb replied, forestalling Chadress and Davo, who began to rise from their seats. ‘Any one of us would be glad to make you. In fact, you might find when we got through with you here that it would be a relief to get into that Corviki envelope.’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
Helva wondered whether Ansra, having taken a stand, was too hardheaded to retreat, or unable to believe that one of her standing could be violable. Fortunately, she was also a person who could not tolerate physical pain and a half dozen open-handed blows from Nia were an effective proof and promise.
‘Oh, no you don’t, honey,’ Nia cried, grabbing Ansra’s arm as the sobbing woman headed for the cabin. ‘You’re not moving from my side – because I don’t trust you out of my sight. Now you sit down and you’ll eat and you’ll behave. And tomorrow you’ll be the best Juliet that’s ever trod air.’
That scene, on top of the psychological exhaustion of rehearsing on Beta Corvi, drained everyone’s reserve. Chadress and Kurla passed around liquor bulbs and a high-protein soup. As soon as they ate, people drifted off to their bunks and meshed in.
‘Keep Nia and Ansra under observation, Helva, will you?’ Chadress suggested.
There’s something different about him, Helva realized, a new depth, oddly Corvikian.
‘Do you think she will play now?’ Helva heard Kurla asking Prane. The two were the last awake, and seemed unable to separate.
‘Her color was that of an anger-fear composite . . .’ Prane stopped short, staring down at Kurla.
‘You’re thinking Corviki,’ she laughed, her eyes dancing. ‘It’s contagious, isn’t it? Like assuming the characteristics of the part you’re playing? See, even a rank amateur like me picks up tricks of the trade!’
‘You transfer into a very solid, warm presence on Corvi, my dear.’
The laughter caught in her throat and her eyes were filled with a haunted yearning. They seemed to be a breath away from a kiss when Prane, a garbled sound issuing from his throat, whirled away down the corridor.
Ansra lost energy the next rehearsal with such good will they were able to run completely through the play. Prane was so pleased with the result he informed the Manager that they could give the first complete performance.
‘My energy group is excited to experience the total pressure dominances of these envelopes,’ the Manager replied, emanating the lavender-purples Helva equated with pleasure in Corviki. ‘Your next entry here is convenient?’
Prane agreed heartily.
‘If this emission is satisfactory,’ Chadress asked, shading his dominance with the sharply controlled waste of deference to a superior force, ‘will Corviki entities then undertake a transfer of our patterns so we may fulfill our contract with you?’
‘Affirmative. For it is evident that there is a loss of egoentity superior to the programmed minimum. Entropy could exceed basic energy requirements.’
Helva felt she’d better analyze that statement the moment she returned to herself. It sounded . . . ominous . . . to Helva, but not to her imprinted self in the Corviki envelope. Such a split of personality could be dangerous indeed.
Once back on the ship, it was easier to spot those who were psychologically twisting their orientation. They tended to express themselves in Corviki terms, as Prane and Chadress had the night before. The only one who seemed impervious was Ansra, but then, Ansra was so wrapped up in her personal grievances, she had no energy . . . there I go, moaned Helva . . . for objective experiences.
Opening night on Beta Corviki was a white-hot, frenetic triumph as far as Corviki acceptance of this form of energy loss was concerned. Beyond the stand of fronds were masses of Corviki, pulsing, throbbing as they absorbed the cast’s emission, to all appearances starved for this form of energy.
Helva could feel her Corviki envelope swell to incredible dimension as the feedback resulted in a thermal reaction, giving her an unlimited mass to energize to a high excitation level. Yet she was also aware that the Corviki audience understood the conflict of the two warring energy-groups, of the desire of the two new, but not shallow, entities to combine into a new force group, of the energy-stoking of herself as the Nurse, of the brilliant light of beta particles exchanged by the two new entities, swearing neuron coalitions and, finally, forced to expend the vital energy of their cores to bring the warring groups to the realization that co-existence was possible on their energy level.
As the Prince summed up the entropy death of the two, novas of approval exploded outside the fronded area. And Helva, gross with feedback, found herself racing to emit into the nearest drained entity some ergs of that pressure, in a self-sacrifice that was ecstatic. All around her, the atmosphere crackled, popped, boomed and thundered with the resultant explosions as immeasurable positive forces recombined and all the previously expended energy was reabsorbed.
Then, indeed, did Helva bless the surgeons. Bless and curse them for hauling her inexorably back from such glorious intercourse. She dazedly recalled her scattered wits as warning lights and signals penetrated the coruscating impressions and forced her to be aware of imminent danger.
Lax figures lay, lifeless puppets with no more sign of vitality than the slight rise and fall of chests.
Scared, Helva tripped the transceivers. Lights reluctantly faded on the transceivers and still no-one stirred. It seemed an eternity to Helva before Ansra moaned.
‘Ansra. Ansra,’ Helva called in an insistent, hard voice, hoping to penetrate the woman’s trancelike state. ‘Ansra. Ansra.’
‘Wha . . . what?’
‘Get to the galley. Get stimulant K in the blue i.v. spray.’
It was like moving a robot. She kept droning her orders, relentlessly forcing Ansra to obey. The woman’s eyes blinked, her body jerked as Helva encouraged, ordered, demanded the necessary actions. Finally she got Ansra’s hands around the right i.v., and got
the uncoordinated body to depress the dermospray against her arm. The stimulant took effect.
‘Oh migod, oh migod,’ Ansra muttered hoarsely. ‘Oh migod.’
‘Ansra. Give them all injections. Move, woman, move.’
The actress was still little better than an automaton, so Helva took advantage of her will-lessness to make her give Kurla and Prane the first injections. Then Chadress. It was a stunned group who returned to their former bodies.
‘I don’t think I can go back there,’ Escalus told Prane in a hoarse tremulo. He put both hands to his temples, where the transceiver had left a red band. ‘Never thought to see the day when I couldn’t face an audience because they liked me too much. But man, that place is . . . is,’ his eyes widened with a terror he mastered. ‘I almost said, pure entropy.’ And he laughed. ‘But that’s what’s wrong with it all.’
Prane, looking as drained and haunted as the others, managed a weak smile.
‘There is no question that we have been overwhelmed by an unpredicted reaction. At this moment,’ and he paused to emphasize the phrase, ‘I would find a return engagement inconceivable. No, no discussion now. We need to convert mass – in the parlance of our hosts – into much-needed energy and to conserve our emissions. But I want to say how very, very proud I am of you all.’
It was as well, Helva knew, for the cast could not have accepted, in their present enervation, the devastating truth of their captivity.
The silence of the ship was unbroken, even by Prane’s nightly litany. Helva, too, found herself close to the verge of unconsciousness, too fatigued to worry about the problems of the morrow.
The next day brought no visible change. Everyone was still enervated. Kurla turned professional and roused those seeking oblivion in slumber to take high-protein meals and massive therapeutic i.v. sprays.
Toward the evening of that day, Helva got Chadress alone in the galley for a conference.
‘We’ll have to put it off as long as we can, Helva. These people are drained dry. I know,’ and he shook his head slowly. ‘How’re you doing?’
Helva temporized. ‘I always maintained shell people are as human as anyone mobile. I know it now. I’ll find it extremely difficult to go back to Beta Corvi myself. Only I know we have no choice.’
‘What do you mean, Helva?’ Chadress didn’t have enough energy left to be more than mildly curious.
‘They’re wondering where we are right now. They have the understudies lined up and raring to learn.’
Chadress mustered a defeated groan.
‘Helva, how can we ask anyone here to undertake that?’
‘As I said, Chadress, we have no choice.’
‘I don’t follow you.’
‘There is a little block on any lead into my power sources. I couldn’t even dodge a meteor if I had to.’
Chadress dropped his head into his hands, his whole body shuddering. ‘Helva, I can’t go back. I can’t I’d . . .’
‘You don’t have to go back. Not right now. Lord, you don’t even have the energy to put on a transceiver,’ she said, deliberately misunderstanding him. ‘It’s up to me.’
‘What’s up to you?’ Prane asked, drifting into the galley.
‘I’m going down to explain our absence.’
‘On the contrary,’ Prane objected, trying to straighten his shoulders but all he managed was a directionless lurch against the warming units. ‘I’m the director. I should explain our inability to fulfill our contract.’
Chadress groaned in distress.
‘You’re out on your feet, Prane. Chadress, too. I’m going. That’s final. Chadress, we’ll discuss this further when I get back,’ she ordered. ‘Chadress?’ she prompted until he nodded acquiescence.
Pain assailed Helva’s mind in a brief flicker of thought as she reentered the Corviki envelope. The myriad tactile sensations from her trailing appendages indicated the presence of several strong pressure-dominances. How was she going to explain human frailty to these masters of pure energy?
The atmosphere, however, was unusually free of energy emissions. Manager, dark and full and rich, discreetly contained his mass of pressure-dominances. The others, ranged beyond him at a courteous distance, must be the understudies, she thought. If a Corviki had compassionate levels in his consciousness, surely the Manager was activating them, for he was patient as Helva struggled to present the explanatory equation, pointing out the unresolvable fractions. He replied with a show of depletion that could only be an apology that the unprecedented feedback and the production of an unstable reaction mass had resulted in such entropy for the visitors. However, they had themselves as cause.
Nevertheless, Manager sternly informed Helva, a new condition of immense significance had developed. Every single energy group around this thermal core insisted on obtaining the formulae which could repeat those unique emissions. The benefits of such expulsion would rejuvenate static energy groups once considered lost beyond reactivation. The formulae must be passed on. No matter would be considered too precious in the exchange.
Helva, feeling she was emitting desperate energies, repeated the impossibility.
Some arrangement would have to be effected, the Manager insisted. There was one unit – he drew the equation of sound that meant Juliet – which had shown an admirable control of intrinsic energy. Let it return and deliver the formulae. Otherwise . . . the Manager swayed his tentacles in an unnerving approximation of a human shrug.
For a long interval Helva lacked the moral courage to indicate her return. She tried to think how this simple mission had turned into such a catastrophe. Ruthlessly she reviewed the elements of this impasse, trying to find a solution. There had to be one.
How cosmically ironic that Ansra Colmer, so bent on ruining them, was the only personality with sufficient egocentricity to survive the experience. But would she save them all?
‘I’m not out of my mind, even if you all are,’ was Ansra’s immediate response. ‘Nothing . . . not even if you beat me to death . . . could make me go back to that . . . that . . . gas factory. I’ve done all my contract called for.’
‘Actually you haven’t, Ansra,’ Davo replied wearily, ‘not that any of us are likely to take you to task for it at Guild. But those contracts read that, if the Corviki accept our dramatic presentation as payment for their techniques we must instruct Corviki understudies.’
‘Go back? Just to teach a Corviki to play Juliet?’ Ansra laughed, shrilly, semi-hysterical. She whirled on Prane. ‘I told them at Regulus that you’d fail. And you have! I’m glad, glad, GLAD!’
Her hatred washed like a visible tide over sensibilities already abraded and tender. Still laughing, she careened off the walls on her way to the cabin, collapsing like a limp doll in front of the mirror, alternately laughing and staring at her reflection.
‘She’s gone stark raving mad,’ Nia stated in a flat voice.
‘I don’t think so, unless we’re all mad right now,’ Davo replied judiciously.
‘Well, we can’t just sit here and let her spite us,’ Nia exclaimed, rousing to indignation. ‘She’s just got to do her part.’
‘The show must go on?’ Escalus asked sarcastically. ‘Not this one.’
‘I apologize to everyone,’ Prane began, rising to his feet. ‘Ansra’s grievance is with me. You shall not be the victims of it.’
‘Christ, Prane, spare us that role,’ Davo exploded.
‘No role, the solution is simple,’ the Solar went on, his voice and manner so matter-of-fact that the accusation of heroics was void. ‘As director, I know every single line in this play. In fact, I have complete recall of some 212 ancient, medieval, classical, atomic, and modem dramas.’
‘You’d die under the strain,’ Kurla cried, throwing her arms around him.
He disengaged himself, smiling tenderly at her.
‘I’m dying anyway, my dear. I’d prefer a good exit line.’
‘Next week East Lynne,’ roared Helva, successfully shocking everyone
alert with her mocking laughter. Prane was deeply hurt, which Helva found a trifle healthier than heroic self-sacrifice. ‘Now will everyone calm down! All is not lost because Ansra Colmer is a vicious, vengeful bitch. In the first place, Solar Prane, we don’t want the Corviki possessed of our entire bankroll in one mass cathartic purge. One play, Romeo and Juliet, which has rolled ’em up by the fronds, is all we contracted for. And we shall give it to them and then accelerate out of their sphere of influence as fast as I can blow my jets. I shall strongly, urgently recommend that we do not darken their dominance again until our bright boys figure out how to cushion our fragile psyches against Corviki feedback.
‘And, Solar Prane, you are not the only person on board with perfect recall. I know this may sound fatuous but I too – probably Davo as well, possibly our Escalus – know every bloody line of R & J, too. All three of us are physically and emotionally better able than you to go back down to Beta Corvi . . .’
‘Listen to me,’ she bellowed when everyone began to protest. She shifted to the voice that signified a broad smile and hammed it: ‘This is Your Captain speaking!’ And as they broke into laughter, became dead serious. ‘I, Helva, have the final responsibility for this mission and for everyone on board the ship.’
‘I know all of Romeo and Juliet, too. Used to play Juliet, you know, when I was in my first hundred,’ Nia said quietly, before Helva could continue. ‘And you’ve forgotten something, Helva. A very essential point. It’s performances, on Beta Corvi, not rehearsals, which rock us. I feel sure I could cope with a rehearsal situation, with the customary halts and breaks needed to teach understudies. We don’t even have to rehearse the full seven hours. Not if these Corviki want the plays so bad. We can call the tune.’ Then her expression changed and she glanced toward the women’s cabin, where Ansra was laughing softly. ‘And I’ll be goddamned if I’ll let that bitch close the most successful show I’ve ever been in.’
The Ship Who Sang Page 15