Cosmic Engineers

by Clifford D. Simak

  “You said that some of them would survive even if the universe, as we know it, were destroyed,” said Caroline. “How would they do that?”

  “They have found a way to burst out of the universe,” said the Engineer.

  “How to navigate the inter-space that exists outside the universe. They are more advanced in many sciences than we. If they wished, I have no doubt they could by themselves, with no aid at all, save us from the fate that is approaching.”

  “Perhaps,” rumbled Kingsley, “a treaty could be arranged. A sort of eleventh-hour armistice.”

  The impersonal thought of the Engineer struck at them. “There can be no peace with them. No treaty. No armistice. For more than a million years they have thought and practiced war. Their every thought has been directed toward conquest. To them the very word ‘peace’ is meaningless. War is their natural state, peace an unnatural state. And they would not, in any event, in the remote chance that they might consider an armistice, consider it at this time when they have a chance to prevent us from saving the universe.”

  “You mean,” asked Gary, horror in his voice, “that they actually want the universe destroyed? That they would fight you to prevent you from saving it?”

  “That,” said the Engineer, “is exactly what I mean. You understand so well.”

  “Do you expect them to attack soon?” asked Tommy.

  “We do not know. They may attack at any time. We are ready at all times. We know they will attack eventually.”

  “We must find a way,” said Caroline. “We can’t let them stop us! We must find a way!”

  “We will find a way,” rumbled Kingsley. “There has to be a way, and we’ll find it.”

  “What do you call these rip-snorters you’ve been fighting all these years?” asked Herb.

  “We call them the Hellhounds,” said the Engineer, but that was not exactly what he meant. The thought brought together a certain measure of loathing mixed with fear and hatred. Hellhounds was the nearest the Earthlings could translate the thought.

  “They can break through the time-space curve,” said Caroline, musingly, “and they can travel in the fifth-dimensional inter-space.” She flashed a look at Gary, a look filled with the flare of inspiration. ‘Perhaps,“ she said, ”that is the answer. Perhaps that is what we should try to find the answer to.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” said Gary, “but maybe you are right.”

  “The space-time curve would be rigid,” said Kingsley. “Rigid and hard to unravel. Lines of stress and force that would be entirely new. That would take mathematical knowledge. That and tremendous power.”

  “The power of new energy,” said Gary. “Perhaps the power of the energy the rubbing universes will create.”

  Kingsley stared at him as if he had struck him with an open hand. “You have it,” he shouted. “You have it!”

  “But we haven’t got the energy,” said Gary, bluntly.

  “No,” agreed Kingsley. “We’ll have to get that first.”

  “And control it,” said Caroline.

  “Perhaps,” suggested the Engineer, “we should go now. The others are waiting for us. They have come so far, many of them from greater distances than you.”

  “How many are there?” asked Gary.

  “Only a few,” said the Engineer, “so very few. Life is so seldom found throughout the universe. The universe does not care for life. I sometimes think life is merely a strange disease that should not be here at all, that it is some accidental arrangement of matter that has no right to be. The universe is so hostile to it that it would seem almost to be abnormal. There are so few places where it can take root and live.”

  “But throughout those billions of galaxies there must be many races,” declared Kingsley.

  “There may be many we do not know about,” said the Engineer, “but very few that we can contact. It is so very hard to get in touch with them. And some of them would be useless to us, races that had developed along entirely different lines to achieve a different culture. Races that live without the application of any of the practical sciences. Races that are sunken in the welter of philosophy and thought. Races that have submerged themselves in aesthetics and are untrained in science. The only ones we could reach were those scientifically-minded races that could catch our message and could reply to us… and after that could build the apparatus that would bring them here.”

  “Hell,” said Herb, “it takes all kinds of people to make a universe.”

  The Engineer led them through an air lock which opened from the room into a mighty corridor… a corridor that stretched away for inconceivable distances, a vast place that held a brooding sense of empty space.

  The suits functioned perfectly. Gravity and pressure were normal and the suits themselves were far more comfortable than the spacesuits used back in the solar system.

  Slowly they trudged down the hall behind the Engineer.

  “How long did it take to build this city?” asked Gary.

  “Many years,” said the Engineer. “Since we came here.”

  “Came here?” asked Gary. “Then this isn’t your native planet?”

  “No,” said the Engineer, but he did not offer to explain.

  “Say,” said Herb, “you didn’t ask our names. You don’t know who we are.”

  Gary thought he detected a faint semblance of dry humor in the answer of the Engineer.

  “Names,” he said. “You mean personal designations? I know who you are without knowing names.”

  “Maybe,” said Herb, “but we can’t read thoughts like you can. We got to have names.” He trotted along at the heels of the Engineer. “Don’t you fellows have names?” he asked.

  “We are designated by numbers,” said the Engineer. “Purely as a matter of record. The individual doesn’t count so much here as he does where you came from.”

  “Numbers,” said Herb. “Just like a penitentiary.”

  “If it is necessary for you to designate me,” said the Engineer, “my number is 1824. I should have told you sooner. I am sorry I forgot.”

  They halted before a massive door and the Engineer sounded a high-pitched thought-wave that beat fantastically against their minds. The great door slid back into the wall and they walked into a room that swept away in lofty reaches of vast distances, with a high-vaulted ceiling that formed a sky-like cup above them.

  The room was utterly empty of any sort of furniture. Just empty space that stretched away to the dim, far walls of soaring white. But in its center was a circular elevation of that same white stone, a dais-like structure that reared ten feet or more above the white-paved floor.

  Upon the dais stood several of the Engineers and around them were grouped queer, misshapen things, nightmares snatched from some book of olden horrors, monstrosities that made Gary’s blood run cold as he gazed upon them.

  He felt Caroline’s fingers closing on his arm. “Gary,” her whisper was thin and weak, “what are they?”

  “Those are the ones that we have called,” said the Engineer. “The ones who have come so far to help us in our fight.”

  “They look like something a man would want to step on,” said Herb, and there was a horrible loathing in his words.

  Gary stared at them, fascinated by their very repulsiveness. Lords of the universe, he thought. These are the things that represent the cream of the universe’s intelligence. These things that looked, as Herb had said, like something you would want to step on.

  The Engineer was walking straight ahead, toward the wide, shallow steps that led up to the dais.

  “Come on,” rumbled Kingsley. “Maybe we look as bad to them.”

  They crossed the hall and tramped up the steps. The Engineer crossed to the other Engineers.

  “These,” he said, “are the ones who have come from the outer planet of the solar system we have watched so many years.”

  The Engineers looked at them. So did the other things. Gary felt his skin crawling under the scrutin
y.

  “They are welcome,” came the thought-wave of one of the Engineers. “You have told them how glad we are to have them here?”

  “I have told them,” declared Engineer 1824.

  There were chairs for the Earthlings. One of the Engineers waved an invitation to them and they sat down.

  Gary looked around. They were the only ones who had chairs. The Engineers, apparently tireless, remained standing. Some of the other things stood, too. One of them stood on a single leg with his second leg tucked tight against his body—like a dreaming stork—except that he didn’t look like a stork. Gary tried to classify him. He wasn’t a bird or a reptile or a mammal. He wasn’t anything a human being had ever imagined. Long, skinny legs, great bloated belly, head with unkempt hair falling over brooding, dead-fish eyes.

  One of the Engineers began to speak.

  “We have gathered here,” said the thought-waves, “to consider ways and means of meeting one of the greatest dangers…”

  Just like a political speaker back on Earth, thought Gary. He tried to make out which one of the Engineers was talking, but there was no facial expression, no movement of any sort which would determine which one of them the speaker might be. He tried to pick out Engineer 1824, but all the Engineers looked exactly alike.

  The talk rumbled on, a smooth roll of thought explaining the situation that they faced, the many problems it presented, the need of acting at once.

  Gary studied the other things about them, the loathsome, unnatural things that had been brought here from the unguessed depths of the universe. He shuddered and felt cold beads of sweat break out upon his body as he looked at them.

  Several of them were immersed in tanks filled with liquids. One tank boiled and steamed as if with violent chemical action; another was cloudy and dirty-looking; another was clear as water and in it lurked a thing that struck stark terror into Gary’s soul. Another was confined in a huge glass sphere through which shifted and swirled a poisonous-appearing atmosphere.

  Gary felt cold fingers touch his spine as he watched the sphere and suddenly was thankful for the shifting mists within it, for through them he had caught sight of something that he was certain would have shattered one’s mind to look upon without the shielding swirl of fog within the glass.

  In a small glass cage set upon a pedestal of stone were several writhing, grub-like things that palpitated disgustingly. Squatting on its haunches directly across from Gary was a monstrosity with mottled skin and drooling mouth, with narrow, slitted eyes and slimy features. He fastened his pinpoint gaze upon the Earthman and Gary quickly looked away.

  Nothing resembled mankind, nothing except the Engineers. Here were things that were terrible caricatures of the loathsome forms of Earth life, other beings that bore not even the most remote resemblance to anything that mankind had ever seen or imagined.

  Was this a fair sample of the intelligence the universe contained? Did he and Kingsley and Caroline appear as disgusting, as fearsome in the eyes as these other denizens of the universe as they appeared to his?

  He shot a quick glance at Caroline. She was listening intently, her chin cupped in one hand, her eyes upon the Engineers. Just as well that way, he thought. She didn’t see these other things.

  The Engineer had stopped talking and silence fell upon the room. Then a new impulse of thought beat against Gary’s brain, thought that seemed cold and cruel, thought that was entirely mechanistic and consciousless. He glanced swiftly around, trying to find who was speaking. It must, he decided, be the thing in the glass sphere. He could not understand the thought, grasped just vague impressions of atomic structures and mathematics that seemed to represent enormous pressure used to control surging energy.

  The Engineer was talking again.

  “Such a solution,” he was saying, “would be possible on a planet such as yours, where an atmosphere many miles in depth, composed of heavy gases, creates the pressures that you speak of. While we can create such pressures artificially, we could not create or maintain them outside the laboratory.”

  “What the hell,” asked Herb, “are they arguing about?”

  “Shut up,” hissed Gary, and the photographer lapsed into shamefaced silence.

  The cold, cruel thought was arguing, trying to explain a point that Gary could only guess at. He looked at Caroline, wondering if she understood.

  Her face was twisted into tiny lines of concentration.

  The cold stream of thought had stopped and another thought broke in, a little piping thought. Perhaps, thought Gary, one of the little slug-like creatures in the glass cage.

  Disgusting little things!

  Gary looked at the mottled, droopy-eyed creature that squatted opposite him. It raised its head and in the beady eyes he imagined that he caught a glimmer of amusement.

  “By the Lord,” he said to himself, “he thinks it’s funny, too.”

  This arguing of hideous entities! The piping thoughts of slimy things that should be wriggling through some stagnant roadside ditch back on the planet Earth. The cold thought of the brain-blasting thing that lived on a planet covered by miles of swirling gases. The pinpoint eyes of the being with the mottled skin.

  Cosmic Crusade! He laughed to himself, deep in his throat. This wasn’t the way he had imagined it. He had thought of gleaming ships of war, of stabbing rays, of might arrayed against might, a place where courage would be at a premium.

  But there was nothing to fight. No physical thing. Nothing a man could get at. Another universe, a mighty thing of curving space and time… that was the enemy. A man simply couldn’t do anything about a thing like that.

  “This place,” Herb whispered to him, “is giving me the creeps.”

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  « ^ »

  WE CAN do it,” said Caroline. She flicked a pencil against a sheet of calculations. “This proves it,” she declared.

  Kingsley bent over her shoulder to look at the sheet. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “would you lead me through it all again. Go slowly, please. I find it hard to grasp a lot of it.”

  “Kingsley,” said Herb, “you’re just an amateur. To get as good as she is you’d have to think for forty lifetimes.”

  “You embarrass me,” she said. “It’s very simple. It’s really very simple.”

  “I’ll say it’s simple,” said Tommy. “Just a little matter of bending space and time into a tiny universe. Wrapping it about a selected bit of matter and making it stay put.”

  “You could use it to control the energy,” rumbled Kingsley. “I understand that well enough. When the universes begin to rub you could trap the incoming energy in an artificial universe. The energy would destroy that universe, but you’d have another ready for it. What I can’t understand is how you form this artificial fourth-dimensional space.”

  “It isn’t artificial,” snapped Gary. “It’s real… as real as the universe we live in. But it’s made by human beings instead of by some law we have no inkling of.”

  He pointed at the sheet of calculations. “Perhaps the secret of all the universe is on that sheet of paper,” he declared. “Maybe that’s the key to how the universe was formed.”

  “Maybe,” rumbled Kingsley, “and maybe not. There may be many ways to do it.”

  “One,” said Gary, “is good enough for me.”

  “There’s just one thing,” said Caroline, “that bothers me. We don’t know anything about the fifth-dimensional inter-space. We can imagine that its laws are different from our own. Vastly different. But how do they differ? What kind of energy would be formed out there? What form would it take?”

  She looked from one to the other of them. “That would make a lot of difference,” she declared.

  “It would,” agreed Kingsley. “It would make a lot of difference. It would be like setting a trap for some animal. You might set one for a rat and catch a bear… or the other way around.”

  “The Hellhounds know,” said Tommy. “They know h
ow to navigate in the inter-space.”

  “But they wouldn’t tell us,” said Gary. “They don’t want the universe to be saved. They want it to be wrecked so they can build a new world out of the wreckage.”

  “It might be light, or matter, or heat, or motion, or it might be something that’s entirely different,” said Caroline. “It’s not impossible it would be something else, some new fearful form of energy with which we are entirely unacquainted. Conditions would be just as different out in inter-space as fourth-dimensional conditions differ from our three-dimensional world.”

  “And to be able to control it we would have to have some idea as to what it is,” said Kingsley.

  “Or what it would become when it entered the hyperspace,” said Gary. “It might be one kind of energy out there, an entirely different kind when it entered our universe.”

  “The people of the other universe don’t seem to know,” Tommy pointed out. “Even if they are the ones who found out about the universes drifting together. They don’t seem to be able to find out too much about it.”

  Gary glanced around the laboratory, a mighty vaulted room that glowed with soft, white light… a room with gleaming tiers of apparatus, with mighty machines, great engines purring with tremendous power, uncanny structures that almost defied description.

  “The funniest thing about the whole business,” he declared, “is why the Engineers themselves can’t make any progress. Why do they have to call us in? With all of this equipment, with the knowledge they already hold, it ought to be a cinch for them to do almost anything.”

  “There’s something queer here,” Herb declared. “I’ve been snooping around a bit and this city is enough to set you batty. There isn’t any traffic in the streets. You can travel for hours and you don’t see a single Engineer. No business houses, no theaters, no nothing. All the buildings are empty. Just empty buildings. A city of empty buildings.“ He puffed out his breath.