Man of Two Worlds

by Raymond F. Jones

  Varano turned and closed the door behind him abruptly.

  “Wait!” Ketan cried. “When will—?”

  But lie tried the door and it would not open.

  XXV

  The room might have belonged to the most renowned of Teachers. The food panel was elaborate and confusing in the many selections that it offered. Mellow light suffused over the walls and luxurious furnishings with refreshing radiance.

  He found fresh clothing and bathing facilities, and a soft bed called invitingly.

  He ate and changed and prepared for Hameth’s coming. He sat upon the edge of the bed to aw’ait any call that might come. Through a music panel he listened to soft music playing.

  It lulled him into restful sleep that lasted throughout the night.

  He awoke with a start, trying to comprehend his surroundings. He roused slowly and sat up. It was then that he saw the other man across the room from him. The stranger sauntered forward until he occupied the center of the room.

  Ketan opened his mouth to speak and closed it again without uttering a word. A quality about the man forbade speech. Ketan felt that he held the experience and wisdom of a dozen lifetimes within him. But he did not look old.

  His face was weathered like the granite mountains of Earth. But his hair was black and thick. He was dressed only in brief trunks that exposed his bronzed, heavily muscled body to the Invigorating air of the room and the radiance of the ceiling lights. Power and strength surged in that body as if to burst the physical bounds of the creature.

  And somehow there was a strange, haunting familiarity about the man. But Ketan’s mind could not fasten upon the feature that aroused a memory. He scanned the shallow lines of the face, the black shock of hair, the eyes—his gaze fastened upon the man’s eyes. There was something there. There and in the close-set, sensitive lips. But the identity still eluded Ketan.

  He spoke as Ketan rose and stood self-consciously before him. His voice was like the billowing of wind through Earth’s great forests.

  “You are Ketan,” he murmured. “How long I’ve waited for your coming. Through the years I held out, knowing you would come, when they told me it was useless, that you were not the one”

  Ketan’s mind attempted to assimilate the strange meaning of the words, but there was no sense relation that he could establish.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I am Hameth, Chief under Igon.”

  “Igon! Then you can tell me where he is! I must find him.”

  “I cannot tell you without his orders. But I may tell you that you already know him, for you have seen him. You will know him When you see him again. For many tara he has known of you.”

  “I do not understand,” said Ketan weakly. And in his mind he was shuffling furiously over the catalogue of those whom he had known.”

  Which of them could be Igon ?

  Branen—Matra, in disguise, but Matra was dead—William Douglas. He stopped. Was it possible that the mysterious leader among the Illegitimates was somehow the great Igon? Or in the pinnacle itself — Richard Simons. Perhaps the scientist had not been merely light and shadow at all. Or among the hundreds of images in that reconstructed laboratory Igon could have been hiding.

  There was no way of knowing. Then Ketan’s eyes narrowed. What of the man, Hameth, himself ? Just who was he?

  Hameth was speaking again.

  “Please sit down. I shall answer many of the questions that are in your mind. I have a great many things to tell you. But first, there is one question I must have answered. Do you still believe it possible to convince the people of Kronweld of their destiny and take them back to Earth, as you wanted to do?”

  Ketan’s head bent low and he glanced down at his bare feet that rested upon the soft warmth of the scarlet rug.

  “No/’ he said slowly. “I was wrong. Their conditioning by the superstitions attached to the Temple of Birth is too strong. They could be convinced only by the impact of its total destruction and being thrown back into Earth as I was.”

  “Good,” said Hameth. “If you had not answered as you did, I could have told you nothing more.

  Now that you have learned that onei truth I can go on.

  “There is another fact: You, yourself will never be able to entirely overthrow the conditioning that you have received in Kronweld. Do you understand that?” Ketan nodded again and looked up into the gem hard lights of Hameth’s eyes. “I know that, too. I thought after experimenting with the Bors I could endure the sight of blood. In the Kyab among the Illegitimates—”

  “I know!’ Hameth interrupted. “You will gradually attain new habits and customs, but remember the man of Kronweld is always there beneath the new Ketan. And the man of Kronweld is a false, unreal person.”

  “But what is to be done?” Ketan cried. “Was Richard Simons wrong? Is all the commission of Kronweld to be abandoned ?”

  “No. We have to do as you said. Confront them with the destruction of the Temple and the reality of Earth.”

  “How ?”

  “That is what I have to tell you. I must go back to Igon’s day. He was the first to be chosen by the mechanism Richard Simons incorporated into the Selector to bring him back to Earth. I think you understand how that operated. When an infant of certain predetermined characteristics appeared, the machine stamped upon his brain an impulse to bring him back through to Earth. The method of return varied so that some would be sure to succeed. Other Gates beside the one in the Temple were provided. Igon found his in Dark Land. But, of course, they have all been closed by the destruction of the central Selector.

  “Igon went to the pinnacle even as did you. He found the same things and was told the same story. Even as you, he came back and defamed the Temple of Birth and tried to tell his story. You didn’t know that, did you? The real reason for his condemnation and exile was suppressed and eventually forgotten in Kronweld.

  “As soon as he was banished he set about carrying out his task in a logical manner. He had learned the same lessons that you have so laboriously learned. So he set about organizing first those who came through to the pinnacle. Since him and before you there were nearly a hundred. All but a few who died are here now. Then he chose some from among the Illegitimates who were the most intelligent. He took some from among the common people of Earth, and even recruited a score or so from the Statists themselves. Among the people of Kronweld, he found only a few like your Unregistereds. Incidentally, if you have wondered, Branen and three fourths of the others are now here working with us.

  “This organization that he built up, Igon called the Restorationists —dedicated to the restoration of Earth. You have a place in it of more importance than I can tell you now. You will learn later of the details.”

  “But how can we ever go back with the Gateway closed ? We must find a way to reopen that,” Ketan protested.

  “I don’t know what Igon has in mind. I have been assured that it will open when we are ready. We arc instructed to go on exactly as if nothing had happened to close it.”

  “I don’t see—”

  “Neither do I. But we take orders from Igon.”

  Ketan looked into Hameth’s eyes for a long moment of silence. He felt almost certain that the man was deceiving him somehow.

  And then he knew. The fragments of familiar points of Hameth’s features fell into place in his memory.

  “I know you, Varano,” Ketan said quietly.

  It was a moment before Hameth’s mouth gave way to the merest flicker of a smile. “I told Igon you would be sure to guess eventually. I hoped it wouldn’t be so soon, though. My disguise was sufficient for a Serviceman of Kronweld who had never been seen as Hameth. But I was too close to you. My disguise was imperfect for that purpose.”

  “But what does it all mean?”

  “Igon ordered me to take care of you personally. I was to help you get to the pinnacle by quite another plan. You upset things completely when you knocked me out, but you accomplished the final r
esult on your own initiative, which turned out well enough.”

  “I’m sorry—I couldn’t know—”

  “No harm was done. Forget it.” “1 don’t see how you could assume a registered identity in Kronweld, one that had never existed.’* “The real Serviceman Varano was a Statist. He is dead,” Hameth said simply. “The reason for Igon’s great interest in you, which you must be wondering about, is that he has access to your record {made at the time you passed through ‘the Selector as an infant. He wants the dormant qualities in you developed in order that he may use them.”

  “What have the Rcstorationists been doing here in this valley?” “Preparing for the attack of the Statists.”

  “Is there no way of preventing that?” Ketan exclaimed. “With the knowledge and the Seeking possessed by the Rcstorationists, surely it could be avoided now, and a direct conflict circumvented.” “Perhaps it could be avoided. I don’t know. But we aren’t concerned with that. We do not want to prevent it. It must occur.” “You want it to happen?” Incredulous, Ketan had half risen to his feet. He sank down again, staring in disbelief at Hameth.

  “Think a minute,” said Hameth. “You have seen the Director of the Statists and Bocknor and Javins. Those three alone are enough to demonstrate to you that the Statists must be destroyed utterly, their power crushed. Can you imagine them submitting to the return of the Kronweldians in any peaceful manner whatever?”

  “No. No—I can’t, but I—”

  “That’s the only answer. We shall wait for their attack and destroy them completely and take over their rule. They will expect no resistance and it will be a simple matter to turn them back.

  “A good many other things will be accomplished also by their attack and subsequent destruction- They will burst into Kronweld and begin annihilating the city. What do you think the effect of that will be upon the Seekers of Kronweld ?”

  For a moment Ketan let his mind imagine the destruction. He pictured the Statists—Bocknor, breaking through the Gateway with a projector beam that would sweep through the city like a great fiery knife. It would shatter the stone of the Temple and explode it into fragments that would spew out over the city. Then the beam would burn and destroy—

  “They will wipe out Kronweld!” Ketan exclaimed.

  “Some will die, perhaps,” said Hameth solemnly. “That is the price they will have to pay for ignorance and superstition. I promise you this, though: We have gathered out all those who will be of irreplaceable value in our restoration of Earth. None of them will die.”

  “It should not be necessary for any to!”

  “The man of Kronweld speaks again,” said Hameth. “You haven’t answered my question. What will it do to the Seekers?”

  “If it won’t destroy the superstitions of the Temple of Birth and the inviolability of the Sacred Mysteries then nothing will.”

  “That is our analysis. Before the city is damaged excessively our generators will appear and wipe out the Statists as they come through and then go on to Earth and destroy their citadel. When we have control we shall establish an orderly exodus back to Earth and a system of education to teach the Kronweldians as you and Igon and the others were taught the facts of Earth’s history.

  “But remember: The destruction of the Statists by force is essential, and the demonstration of our power in this manner is the only means of teaching the Kronweldians the truth of their situation. Do you understand that?”

  Ketan dressed hurriedly after his private meal. He donned heavy, padded clothing which was strange to him, but Hameth had said that it was necessary in the cold outside.

  Ready, he opened the door of his room and went out into the hall. Hameth was coming towards him still clad only in the brief trunks. He smiled in greeting.

  “I want you to see our buildings and factories and get an understanding of the preparations we have made/’ he said.

  It was snowing when they went out. Ketan stopped and put out his hands and tipped his head to feel the cold touch of it upon his face. A chill went through him as a gust of icy air swept over them, but Hameth did not seem to notice the cold upon his bare flesh.

  Hameth laughed softly. “They are all quite astounded by the first sight of snow. But hurry; there are things to see and the time is short.”

  The city was almost as large as Kronweld. Hameth had named only a few of those they had recruited as Restorationists. Ketan asked “How many of you are there here ?”

  “About the same number as in Kronweld.”

  “But—”

  “Birth is normal here. Already there is present the third generation of Restorationists who have been born and taught all their lives the significance of our work. They will be of most worth when we go back.”

  “Do you know why there is no birth in Kronweld?”

  “It is something that Richard Simons could never have anticipated. Sterility is caused by the radiations of the first sun and by the radioactivity of Fire Land. We are protected from it here by distance and the haze that is always in the sky.” “Those who have been exposed to it can—”

  “Those who have faithfully wom their leaden day cloaks arc usually only temporarily affected by the condition. Most of those who have come to us from Kronweld have reproduced normally after varying lengths of time. But here is the generator plant.”

  They approached an enormous, inclosed building and passed inside. Towering above him, Ketan saw rows of silent, mobile monsters that filled the building. They were great, gray hulks that shone with highlights of the thousand points of light in the ceiling.

  Dwarfed, scores of men worked in and about the machines in silence.

  “What are they?” Ketan exclaimed.

  “These are the mobile generator units which we will throw against the Statists when they first come through. Come inside.”

  Twenty wheels of adjustable reach supported the monster. The two men entered through a hatch that opened in the forepart of the belly between the rows of wheels that were half again as high as the men.

  Inside the lighted interior an unfamiliar maze of machinery was presented to Ketan’s sight. The shapes of the machines on the lowest level were orthodox enough to be recognized as power generators. Ketan made an estimate of their output from their size and it awed him that so much power could be created within this mobile weapon.

  The second and third levels presented totally unfamiliar equipment. Banks of fat, oversize generator tubes occupied the second. The third was an entirely exposed turret whose only protection appeared to be a metal mesh that extended over it. And then Ketan noticed that it went down to the base of the machine, held away by short insulating posts.

  On the turret, an operator’s position was behind a huge loop twice ‘as high as Ketan and built of cable nearly as thick as his body. Opposite, across the turret, was a smaller loop, and between them extended a hollow rod through the axis of the loops. It appeared to have no visible support.

  “Radiation is the most economical and effective method of converting power to destructive uses. These small generators are capable of throwing a beam from here to Kronweld,” said Hameth, “but we intend to use them at closer range. Later, I’ll take one out and give you a demonstration.”

  Without the demonstration, Ketan could vision the terrible power of those generators being poured into a beam of destruction. He wondered if there were anything in existence that would stand up under it.

  “We’ll go over and see the main weapon now,” Hameth said.

  They went out into the snowstorm again and crossed to a smaller building nearby. As Ketan glimpsed it through the snow curtain he exclaimed at its construction.

  It was only a much enlarged duplicate of the turret on the small generators. It towered far above them into the blinding snow. But no flakes were falling upon that mesh.

  They went into a small, nearby chamber that led downward into a deep chamber that was hot with the escaping radiant heat of hundreds of idling power generating units.


  “There’s enough power here—” Ketan gasped.

  “—to carve away the mountains about us in less than a breath’s time,” finished Hameth. “Come upstairs with me.”

  They went up to ground level and stood beneath the huge ring of the projector. Behind them were the controls.

  “This unit is actually more mobile than the small machines,” said Hameth, “or will be when the Gateway is restored.

  “I wonder if you understand the full possibilities of this instrument of the scientists of the pinnacle. Opening of the Gateway simply means that a certain relationship is established between this plane and that of Earth. There is no definite spatial relationship involved. Passage from one plane to the other may take place at any point in either plane. It may be localized at one definite spot as in the case of the Gateway through the Temple of Birth, but this is not essential. In fact, we have been using it for transport entirely within the confines of Kronweld. This is done by passing through to Earth and then returning here at the desired spot.

  “Thus, we can utilize this property to locate either our small mobile generators or the big weapon at any point we desire in Kronweld or Earth almost instantaneously.”

  Ketan was as much dismayed as buoyed up by the sight of the great engine of destruction.

  “It’s so great a waste,” he said. “Time, materials, men’s energies—”

  Hameth gave a short, harsh laugh. “Wait until you have time to study the histories of Earth in the pinnacle. You will learn of waste, there.”

  Ketan felt the growth within himself. Contrasted with the impulsive Seeker who had defied the Council and first threatened to expose the Temple, he had come a long way.

  It was not outwardly visible, perhaps, but he knew it, and the Unregistereds whom he met in the following days knew it by contrast after they had spoken to him for a time.

  He had learned to know and understand something of three other great groups besides his own, the Illegitimates, the Statists, and the Restorationists.