Hakira looked for the technology that would transfer them. Moshe had spoken of this room. Perhaps it was much larger than bender technology, and had been embedded in the walls of the room.
Yet if they could not bring anything with them that wasn’t part of their bodies, Moshe’s people must have built their machinery here instead of importing it. Yet if they hadn’t brought wealth, how had Moshe obtained the money to buy this house, let alone manufacture their slant-changing machinery? Interesting puzzles.
Of course, there were two obvious solutions. The first would be a disappointment, but it was the most predictable—that it was all fakery and Moshe would try to abscond with their money without having taken them anywhere at all. There was always the danger that part of the scam was killing those who were supposed to be transported so that there’d be no one left to complain. Foreseeing that, Hakira and the others were alert and prepared.
The other possibility, though, was the one that made Hakira’s spine tingle. Theoretically, since slant-shifting had first been discovered as a natural function of the human brain, there was always the chance of nonmechanical transfer between angles. One of the main objections to this idea had always been that if it were possible, all the worlds should be getting constant visits from any that had learned how to transfer by mental power alone. The common answer to that was, How do you know they aren’t constantly visiting? Some even speculated that sightings of ghosts might well be of people coming or going. But Moshe’s warning about arriving nude would explain quite nicely why there hadn’t been more visits. It’s hard to be subtle about being nude in most human cultures.
“Do any of you,” asked Moshe, “have any embedded metal or plastic in your bodies? This includes fillings in your teeth, but would also include metal plates or silicon joint replacements, heart pacemakers, nontissue breast implants, and, of course, eyeglasses. I can assure you that as quickly as possible, all these items will be replaced, except for pacemakers, of course, if you have a pacemaker you’re simply not going.”
“What happens if we do have some kind of implant?” asked one of the men.
“Nothing painful. No wound. It simply doesn’t go with you. It remains here. The effect on you is as if it simply disappeared. And, of course, the objects would remain here, hanging in the air, and then fall to the ground—or the chair, since most of you will be sitting. But to tell the truth, that’s the least of my problems—part of your fee goes to cleaning up this room, since the contents of your bowels also remain behind.”
Several people grimaced.
“As I said, you’ll never notice, except you might feel a bit lighter and more vigorous. It’s like having the perfect enema. And, no matter how nervous you are, you won’t need to urinate for some time. Well now, are we ready? Anyone want to step outside after all?”
No one left.
“Well, this couldn’t be simpler. You must join hands, bare hands, skin to skin. Connect tightly, the whole circle, no one left out.”
Hakira couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Hakira is laughing,” said Moshe, “because he mockingly suggested that maybe our method of transfer was some kind of mumbo jumbo involving all joining hands. Well, he was right. Only this happens to be mumbo jumbo that works.”
We’ll see, won’t we? thought Hakira.
In moments, all their hands were joined.
“Hold your hands up, so I can see,” said Moshe. “Good, good. All right. Absolute silence, please.”
“A moment first,” said Hakira. To the others, he said softly, “Nippon, this year.”
With fierce smiles or no expression at all, the others murmured in reply, “Fujiyama kotoshi.”
It was done. Hakira turned to Moshe and nodded.
They bowed their heads and made no sound, beyond the unavoidable sound of breathing. And an occasional sniffle—they had just come in from the cold.
One man coughed. Several people glared at him. Others simply closed their eyes, meditating their way to silence.
Hakira never took his eyes from Moshe, watching for some kind of signal to a hidden confederate, or perhaps for him to activate some machinery that might fill the room with poison gas. But . . . nothing.
Two minutes. Three. Four.
And then the room disappeared and a cold wind blew across forty naked bodies. They were in the open air inside a high fence, and around them in a circle stood men with swords.
Swords.
Everything was clear now.
“Well,” said Moshe cheerfully, letting go and stepping back to join the armed men. One of them had a long coat for him, which he put on and wrapped around himself. “The transfer worked just as I told you it would—you’re naked, there was no machinery involved, and don’t you feel vigorous?”
Neither Hakira nor any of the people of Kotoshi said a thing.
“I did lie about a few things,” said Moshe. “You see, we stumbled upon what you call ‘slanting’ at a much more primitive stage in our technological development than you. And wherever we went that wasn’t downright fatal, and that wasn’t already fully inhabited, there you were! Already overpopulating every world we could find! We had come upon the technique too late. So, we’ve come recruiting. If we’re to have a chance at defeating you and your kind so we have a decent chance of finding worlds to expand into, we need to learn how to use your technology. How to use your weapons, how to disable your power system, how to make your ordinary citizens helpless. Since our technology is far behind yours, and we couldn’t carry technology from world to world anyway, the way you can, this was our only choice.”
Still no one answered him.
“You are taking this very calmly—good. The previous group was full of complainers, arguing with us and complaining about the weather even though it’s much colder this time. That first group was very valuable—we’ve learned many medical breakthroughs from them, for instance, and many people are learning how to drive cars and how to use credit and even the theory behind computer programming. But you—well, I know it’s a racial stereotype, but not only are you Japanese every bit as educated as the Jews from the previous group, you tend to be educated in mathematics and technology instead of medicine, law, and scripture. So from you we hope to learn many valuable things that will prepare us to take over one of your colonies and use it as a springboard to future conquest. Isn’t it nice to know how valuable and important you are?”
One of the swordsmen let rip a string of sounds from another language. Moshe answered in the same language. “My friend comments that you seem to be taking this news extremely well.”
“Only a few points of clarification are needed,” said Hakira. “You are, in fact, planning to keep us as slaves?”
“Allies,” said Moshe. “Helpers. Teachers.”
“Not slaves. We are free to go, then? To return home if we wish?”
“No, I regret not.”
“Are we free not to cooperate with you?”
“You will find your lives are much more comfortable if you cooperate.”
“Will we be taught this mental method of transferring from angle to angle?”
Moshe laughed. “Please, you are too humorous.”
“Is this a global policy on your world, or are you representing only one government or perhaps a small group not responsible to any government?”
“There is one government on this world, and we represent its policy,” said Moshe. “It is only in the area of technology that we are not as advanced as you. We gave up tribes and nations thousands of years ago.”
Hakira looked around at the others in his group. “Any other questions? Have we settled everything?”
Of course it was just a legal formality. He knew perfectly well that they were now free to act. This was, in fact, almost the worst-case scenario. No clothing, no weapons, cold weather, surrounded. But that was why they trained for the worst case. At least there were no guns, and they were outdoors.
“Moshe, I arrest you and all the armed
persons present in this compound and charge you with wrongful imprisonment, slavery, fraud, and—”
Moshe shook his head and gave a brief command to the swordsmen. At once they raised their weapons and advanced on Hakira’s group.
It took only moments for the nude Japanese to sidestep the swords, disarm the swordsmen, and leave them prostrate on the ground, their own swords now pointed at their throats. The Japanese who were not involved in that task quickly scoured the compound for more weapons and located the clumsy old-fashioned keys that would open the gate. Within moments they had run down and captured those guards who had been outside the gates. Not one got away. Only two had even attempted to fight. They were, as a result, dead.
To Moshe, Hakira said, “I now add the charge of assault and attempted murder.”
“You’ll never get back to your own world,” said Moshe.
“We each have the complete knowledge necessary to make our own bender out of whatever materials we find here. We are also quite prepared to take on any military force you send against us, or to flee, if necessary. Even if we have to travel, we have you. The real question is whether we will learn the secret of mental reslanting from you before or after we build a bender for ourselves. I can promise you considerable lenience from the courts if you cooperate.”
“Never.”
“Oh, well. Someone else will.”
“How did you know?” demanded Moshe.
“There is no world but ours with Japanese in it. Or Jews. None of the inhabited worlds have had cultures or languages or civilizations or histories that resembled each other in any way. We knew you were a con man, but we also knew the Zionists were gone without a trace. We also knew that someday we’d have to face people from another angle who had learned how to reslant themselves. We trained very carefully, and we followed you home.”
“Like stray mongrels,” said Moshe.
“Oh, and we do have to be told where the previous batch of slaves are being kept—the Zionists you kidnapped before.”
“They’ll all be killed,” said Moshe nastily.
“That would be such a shame for you,” said Hakira. He beckoned to one of his men, now armed with a sharp sword. In Japanese, he told his comrade that unfortunately, Moshe needed a demonstration of their relentless determination.
At once the sword flicked out and the tip of Moshe’s nose dropped to the ground. The sword flicked again, and now Moshe lost the tip of the longest finger of the hand that he had been raising to touch his maimed nose.
Hakira bent over and scooped up the nose and the fingertip. “I’d say that if we get back to our world within about three hours, surgeons will be able to put these back on with only the tiniest scar and very little loss of function. Or shall we delay longer, and sever more protruding body parts?”
“This is inhuman!” said Moshe.
“On the contrary,” said Hakira. “This is about as human as it gets.”
“Are the people of your angle so determined to control every world you find?”
“Not at all,” said Hakira. “We never interfered with any world that already had human life. You’re the ones who decided on war. And I must say I’m relieved that the general level of your technology turns out to be so low. And that wherever you go, you arrive naked.”
Moshe said nothing. His eyes glazed over.
Hakira murmured to his friend with the sword. The point of it quickly rested against the tender flesh just under Moshe’s jaw.
Moshe’s eyes grew quite alert.
“Don’t even think of slanting away from us,” said Hakira.
“I am the only one who speaks your language,” said Moshe. “You have to sleep sometime. I have to sleep sometime. How will you know whether I’m really asleep, or merely meditating before I transfer?”
“Take a thumb,” said Hakira. “And this time, let’s make him swallow it.”
Moshe gulped. “What sort of vengeance will you take against my people?”
“Apart from fair trials for the perpetrators of this conspiracy, we’ll establish an irresistible presence here, watch you very carefully, and conduct such trade as we think appropriate. You yourself will be judged according to your cooperation now. Come on, Moshe, save some time. Take me back to my world. A bender is already being set up at your house—the troops moved in the moment we disappeared. You know that it’s just a matter of time before they identify this angle and arrive in force no matter what you do.”
“I could take you anywhere,” said Moshe.
“And no doubt you’re threatening to take me to some world with unbreathable air because you’re willing to die for your cause. I understand that, I’m willing to die for mine. But if I’m not back here in ten minutes, my men will slaughter yours and begin the systematic destruction of your world. It’s our only defense, if you don’t cooperate. Believe me, the best way to save your world is by doing what I say.”
“Maybe I hate you more than I love my people,” said Moshe.
“What you love is our technology, Moshe, every bit of it. Come with me now and you’ll be the hero who brings all those wonderful toys home.”
“You’ll put my finger and nose back on?”
“In my world the year is 3001,” said Hakira. “We’ll put them on you wherever you want them, and give you spares just in case.”
“Let’s go,” said Moshe.
He took Hakira’s hand and closed his eyes.
NOTES ON “ANGLES”
What can I say? This is a novel’s worth of story that I was never able to tame into any useful shape. It’s one of the best story ideas I’ve ever had, and what you just read (if you actually read it all) is the best I could do at putting it down in a coherent and, I hope, powerful way.
The original idea was: What if any enclosed space with right angles exerted a pressure on adjacent universes to have those angles matched? Sort of a feng shui thing—if someone was constructing a building, they would unconsciously align it with a building in the nearest “dimension” and there would be enormous pressure to make at least one room coincide exactly. If the builder didn’t do this, it wouldn’t feel right to people coming into the building, because though we aren’t aware of it, we all sense the nearest dimensions.
But when the rooms exactly coincide, then a shimmering resonance begins, in which objects placed in the room exist in both dimensions at the same time.
This opened up the possibility that poltergeists—spirits that (supposedly) fling furniture around—were really people who were going crazy because your furniture was showing up in their house and they couldn’t get rid of it! They’d move it out of the way, and you’d move it back! You were their poltergeist, and vice versa.
Besides the poltergeist thing, though, the idea of universes being very close together brought the possibility of space travel by the power of mind alone—that some people can go from universe to universe without knowing exactly where they’re going. They just slide through somehow. Meanwhile, however, others can learn to do the same thing through technology, while others do it by linking people’s minds together and bringing whole groups through.
That’s all it remained, though—some ideas that I thought were really cool and couldn’t let go of. I never found a way to fit the poltergeist thing into the time-traveler story. It finally came to life when I linked it with the situation of “homeless” nations on Earth—people like the Gypsies or (for many years) the Jews or the Kurds who, because of the vicissitudes of power, find themselves living in a land that somebody else insists belongs to them. Deprived of their homeland, they might use the possibility of travel into other universes as a way of getting, not just a homeland, but the very homeland that they had lost—only in a version of the universe in which that homeland was not occupied by humans. They wouldn’t be displacing anybody.
That was the ragged idea on which I hung “Angles.” I couldn’t resist dropping in the poltergeist stuff, too. With only the dates at the head of each section to guide you, and some
of the story threads leading, really, nowhere, I hope that the experience of reading this story wasn’t too much like jumping from one universe to another without knowing quite how and why they were ever connected in the first place.
I think someday there might be a novel in this. When I think of yet another idea that will bind it all together.
II
FANTASY
VESSEL
Paulie hardly knew his cousins before that first family reunion in the mountains of North Carolina, and within about three hours he didn’t want to know them any better. Because his mom was the youngest and she had married late, almost all the cousins were a lot older than Paulie and he didn’t hit it off very well with the two that were his age, Celie and Deckie.
Celie, the girl cousin, only wanted to talk about her beautiful Arabians and how much fun she would have had if her mother had let her bring them up into the mountains, to which Paulie finally said, “It would have been a real hoot to watch you get knocked out of the saddle by a low branch,” whereupon Celie gave him her best rich-girl freeze-out look and walked away. Paulie couldn’t resist whinnying as she went.
This happened within about fifteen minutes of Paulie’s arrival at the mountain cabin that Aunt Rosie had borrowed from a rich guy in the Virginia Democratic Party organization who owed her about a thousand big favors, as she liked to brag. “Let’s just say that his road construction business depended on some words whispered into the right ears.”
When she said that, Paulie was close enough to his parents to hear his father whisper to his mother, “I’ll bet the left ears were lying on cheap motel pillows at the time.” Mother jabbed him and Father grinned. Paulie didn’t like the nastiness in Father’s smile. It was the look that Grappaw always called “Mubbie’s shit-eatin’ smile.” Grappaw was Father’s father, and the only living soul who dared to call Father by that stupid baby nickname. In his mind, though, Paulie liked to think of Father that way. Mubbie Mubbie Mubbie.
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