Nomad (1944)

by Wesley Long; George O. Smith

  It is improbable that Terrans will slow down. Like the Ertinians, once a race is geared to high-velocity, slowing down is impossible.

  The Ertinians, geared to a nomad life, could not conceive of a stable system and like the proverbial tramp, continued to think in terms of travel.

  The Terran—Guy Maynard— found the peaceful life on Ertene suitable for a long time. He expected that action would take place once Thomakein and Leilanane were mated, but things fell into their grooves again, and time went on interminably.

  Guy tried to push the physicists that were working on his pet projects and found a platitude that maddened him. The necessities of sudden and decisive action were not there. Ertinians didn’t think as Terrans do. Eons had passed since anything of real velocity was needed, and their thinking habits had been trained along these lines.

  The idea of accepting an idea and developing it immediately into a practical thing was unheard of. There had been no need. Certainly there must be no need now.

  Guy was a dynamo of action in a world geared to ten miles per hour.

  He found that their scientific developments were slow and cumbersome. Their science was not their own, hut that of the worlds of their passage, and with years between such contacts, scientific ambition was low, indeed. With no competitive force driving them forward, Ertene had assumed the role of a lazy man, content to live in indolence.

  Had any danger come to Terra, it would have been answered immediately and more than likely Terra would have gone out to meet the threat on the threat’s home ground. But after the first flurry of worry over the disclosure of Ertene to Terra by the man Gomanar, Ertene’s concern subsided. Half-heartedly Ertene put up vortex projectors about their cities, and then returned to their homes.

  At first, Guy worried about these weapons. It was not fair to his peace of mind to see on every hand the evidence of Ertene’s dislike of Terra. His own feelings were mixed; Terra hadn’t played fair with him, true, but the idea of ruling a planet that would kill thousand upon thousand of his people stuck in Guy’s throat. He worried about this, and because he could tell no one about it—not even Thomakein for fear that his motives be misread—he worried alone.

  His worry gave him something to do, at least.

  But then as the days added into kilodays. and Ertene continued on and on and on in its course through the heavens, and no Terran forces came to contest or to seek, Guy became used to the idea that Ertene’s barrier was far more obscure than the proverbial needle in the haystack. A magnet, well plied, will show the fallacy of that platitude, but trying to see nothing against a field of black—impossible.

  Guy knew that his no-radiation detectors were being used. He suspected deeper developments, and fumed and fretted because he could not know what they were. His imagination cooked up many ideas, possible and impossible, for the finding of such a minute bubble in space. And it all reduced to one thing.

  Mephisto had been unfound for hundreds of years of space travel and exploration. Men suspected the possibility of inner-and outer-planets and went on the search for them. They failed until the Ertinian science provided Guy with an instrument to locate such bodies.

  Ertene’s chances were excellent.

  And the mathematicians of Ertene spent kilodays in deep theory and high abstractions and decided that the law of probabilities prohibited the finding of Ertene.

  And instead of feeling concern at the idea of fighting his own people, Guy looked upon the vortex projectors in the same light as a fire department in a city of pure metal.

  Guy’s life changed as a result of this. Like the man on vacation, he began to seek something to do. The job of Lanee was unexciting and drab after the life of activity he knew on Terra.

  On every hand he saw things that would be hailed as miraculous on Terra. Medical science was far ahead of Terra’s in spite of the drive of necessity; Ertene’s science had gone forward passively and the diseases were gone completely from the planet. Their accident-surgery could stand a bit of Terran influence just as the Terrans could stand some of Ertinian vaccine and antibody discoveries.

  He scorned the speed of the workmen that erected the home for Thomakein and Leilanane—now named Leilakein, of course—because it took them almost a thousand days. The same home, he knew, could have been erected upon the planets Venus, with material shipped cold from Terra, and the couple would have been living in it within sixty days.

  But Terran workmen used tiny MacMillans to drill holes instead of the brace and bit of the ancients. Spikes and nails were unused on Terra, instantaneous welding was done on metal, and molecular-bonding, and forming. Wood was worked with portable-power tools, and fastened together with huge wire staples formed as used from spools of wire, and driven with the machine on the premises.

  In the sky, traffic moved ponderously and sedately. Even in rush periods Ertinian traffic did not approach the mad scramble that took place on Terra.

  Guy drove his flier through the skies with them and came to the conclusion that the hurrying scramble of traffic and its frequent accidents was productive of a bunch of better drivers. The percentages of dented wings to fliers in the sky was higher on Ertene.

  He read an editorial in a paper objecting to the Lanee’s hairbreadth sky-tactics and Guy scorned the words because he hadn’t been in the slightest danger. After all, Guy had learned to run a flier over Sahara Base, where a flier sometimes cut between building tops in a vertical bank to keep from hitting wingtips, and where one of the more scatterbrained stunts consisted of racing another driver to the last landing space.

  “Sure, they lost fliers that way,” grinned Guy aloud. But it made for the quick or the dead and it kept people on their toes.

  He accepted Charalas’ theories about survival, and admitted that if Terra were rotten and avaricious, so was he. He knew that if it came to a choice, he’d prefer that they experiment on a Titanian than upon him.

  His only sore spot was the fact that Terra denied him his right to his secret—and his life. They had been more than unreasonable in that, expecting him to break his oath to them.

  And that brought back the old argument. Who was right? Should he have agreed to Ertene’s oath and then sold them out?

  He shook his head. Had he been that kind, Ertene would not have permitted him to leave.

  Guy had spent his life under the idea that when things went too quietly too long grief was brewing. He had theorized upon it, and had formulated the relation that the amount of grief was proportional to the length of quiet time.

  His accounting was piling up to a terrible, starring total. He knew it wouldn’t last, couldn’t last. He hoped that Thomakein would move, giving him a chance to lose himself. But Thomakein went about his business quietly, testing the vortex projectors and handling the details of defense.

  What form the end would take, Guy didn’t know.

  He’d have welcomed it save for the one fact that if and when it came, Guy would then be out of a place to live. Terra had made it impossible to remain there, to have Ertene denied him would make him a man without a planet.

  And so he fought the idea of alliance with Terra because such an alliance would place him right in the hands of the Terrans themselves. There would be no forgiving if they came, and once they came and disclosed Guy’s real identity, Guy would have no Ertinian shelter. Ertene would throw him out for violating his promise never to return.

  Guy snorted at himself. His was a life of broken promises and crosspurpose oaths.

  But there was one oath he intended to keep. He would do all he could to keep Ertene free—his life depended upon it! It occurred to Guy that the way to keep things that way was to remove the source of irritation, and so he began to investigate and to reason.

  How lucky it was that Elanane had passed on as he did. How lucky that Guy resembled him. Guy had accepted these coincidences glibly, without question, until it came to him that Thomakein could have done otherwise if he had found it necessary. Charalas had been Lanee once
, and the neurosurgeon would have followed Thomakein’s urgings, especially after Thomakein’s stories of Terran intrigue.

  It was too trite.

  Would a popular ruler, professing isolation, refuse to arm his planet against invasion? Perhaps. There are men who think that if they mind their business, others will mind theirs. But not Terra. Not when known otherwise, would such a policy work. The idea of passive resistance went out when the airplane came in.

  The real Elanane was quite a man. He was loved, admired, and eulogized. He was intelligent, well-balanced mentally, morally, and physically. Elanane was neither crank nor crackpot, and Guy knew that his theories of government were stable and sensible.

  Therefore Guy reasoned that Elanane would be certain to take any measures to insure the safety of Ertene.

  That would mean absolute cooperation with Thomakein. Elanane had appointed Thomakein to study Terra and to report. A spy, if the word must be used. Elanane would accept the word of his friend and do as that friend suggested.

  But Elanane might go so far and no more. There is a vast difference between preparing to stand off a possible invasion and preparing to fight an offensive war. Elanane might believe that the best defense is a quick offense.

  Would Thomakein do away with a friend for that?

  Hardly. It must be deeper.

  Coincidence was too thick. That alcohol and irritation business did not make sense. Ertinian anti-la-mine drugs were similar to Terra’s, and furthermore Ertinians used alcohol which would mean that the Ertinian drug must have been tested under these conditions. That brought up another thought.

  If Thomakein had slipped a neutralizer into Guy’s drinks, he could almost be certain that exposure would follow.

  Would Thomakein gain by such a deal?

  Well, would he?

  Guy’s hand found the sensitivity control and stepped the power high. His sensitive fingertips tuned for maximum contact with Thomakein.

  The answer he sought exploded in his mind with clearness and conciseness. It’s sheer audacity staggered Guy. The very gall of the man was appalling, and yet the utter forcefulness of Thomakein might push it through. The plan itself was so daring that Thomakein would stun those who were against him. Not permanently, but they would be amazed long enough for the Ertinian to take his toll.

  Once Thomakein unwound his plot, it would defy catching.

  Guy headed for Thomakein’s office on the run, and caught him present.

  “I’ve just figured it,” snapped Guy.

  “So? Figured what?”

  “That little plot you’ve been cooking!”

  “Plot? You mean my plan for—”

  “It’s a stinking plot and nothing more.”

  “You’re a little upset, Elanane. Remember that you live only at my bidding.”

  “What did you do to Elanane?” “It was unfortunate—”

  “The men who permitted his death were dealt with,” admitted Guy harshly.

  “So?”

  “But removing Elanane permanently didn’t bother you at all.” “No, not too much. But remember that Elanane was my friend.”

  “I hope that I never have such a friend.”

  “You have,” smiled Thomakein in a superior manner.

  “You? God forbid!”

  “Look, hothead, cool down. If you get tossed off of Ertene, then what?”

  “I made an oath to protect Ertene.”

  “You made an oath never to return.”

  “I also made an oath never to tell. Also one previous to tell Terra of anything I discover.”

  “Do you suppose that Ertene will believe anything you tell them once the truth of your broken oaths are known?”

  “They needn’t know. I—am Elanane.”

  “We can put a stop to that.” snapped Thomakein.

  “I think that I can stop you first.” “No doubt,” sad Thomakein easily. “The Terran methods of hand-to-hand fighting are devastating. But you’ll never conceal your victory.”

  “You stinker,” snarled Guy. “How about Leil?”

  Thomakein’s face fell. “I will be blamed for Elanane’s death,” he said solemnly. “I am more than sorry about that.”

  “Being sorry is not enough.” “What do you intend to do about it?”

  “Thomakein”— Guy opened the phonoscope key, dialed government headquarters, and continued—“I arrest you, Thomakein, for treason against the integrity of Ertene!” The faces on the plate registered horror, and then action. The plate continued to register as headquarters kept the circuit open. Guy dropped his hold on the audio key to cut the sounds of men in full cry,

  “Now we’ll see.”

  “You idiot,” laughed Thomakein. “You’ll see how Ertinians stick together!”

  “We’ll see.” .

  “You might have come in,” said Thomakein. “Together we could have ruled the entire System.”

  “You planned to rule it alone,” sneered Guy.

  “I shall—now.”

  “You’re the kind of man to share such power with me.”

  “Certainly,”.

  “Rot.”

  “Have it your way.”

  “I’ll have it my way,” sad Guy. “It’s not your way.”

  “Nor yours. I don’t particularly care,” said Thomakein easily. “My plans are about set anyway. A day or so means little.”

  “Days—even hours can ruin anything.”

  “Not when the plan includes the possibility of something slipping.”

  “Nice trick you played on me.”

  “Thank you, Guy. That’s just an idea. If I can play puppets with a ruler of Ertene, an ambitious young man from Terra, and the fate of worlds and make everything come out even—I can run the show.”

  “You controlled the election of Elanane because he resembled me.”

  “Naturally. That was part of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew that no Ertinian would permit me to arm Ertene for power and invasion. It took an energetic man, with will, force, and fear of discovery to push it through. Guy, you’d have been safe if I’d been permitted to run this freely. Terra couldn’t touch you. But you choose to pit your futile will against mine. Mine—and Ertene’s!”

  “I am going to keep Ertene free!” shouted Guy, hammering on the desk with his fist.

  “You mean, ‘Gomanar is going to save his skin!’ don’t you?” sneered Thomakein.

  “I’ll shoot the works, Thomakein, if it’s necessary.”

  “Poor lad. You had promise.”

  The door flung open, and police entered. They begged Thomakein’s forgiveness, and then marched him from the office to the great hall wherein the Council met.

  The great Hall of History brought back the memory of his first visit, and Guy smiled. Then as the Council entered and seated itself, Guy faced them. In the balcony above, faces peered over at the governmental representatives. The wall below the balcony’s edge came alive with the hundred and eighty phonoscopes that would take this proceeding to all Ertene.

  “A grave charge has been made,” said the leader of the group. “Who brings this charge.”

  “I, Lanee Elanane, charge that this man, Thomakein, has plotted against the Will of Ertene.”

  “The charge is treason, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Explain the reason for these charges. Remember, Lanee Elanane, this is no trial, but a pretrial to arrive at the decision as to the graveness of the. crime. Evidence for such a crime must be collected, and if the charge is allowed, you will be permitted to gather such evidence during a period of time decided by this Council.”

  “I have reason to believe that Thomakein is plotting to take Ertene into the Solar System,” said Guy.

  The Council exploded. The austere meeting broke into a riot of talk until Guy shouted: “Quiet!’ ’ “Proceed, Elanane.”

  “In addition, Thomakein has ambition to become the supreme ruler over the allied Solar System and! Ertene
.”

  Harabond, the head of the Council arose. “Assuming that Thomakein were successful in his mechanical intrigue—he might be elected to rule. The accomplishment of such a feat would prove his ability.”

  “Ertene can be swung, can’t it?” asked Guy.

  “Yes—but only if it is universally agreed on Ertene.”

  Guy leaned forward and his voice was dry and hard. “Harabond, on Terra it is reported that many times a brilliant but dishonest leader of minorities has succeeded in making a shambles of the world before he was subdued. It is fear of this that has made Terrans distrustful of everyone who is not openly for them. And do you think that a man capable of running this intrigue to its present state of completion would stop at elections? He’ll grab!”

  “Thomakein, will you offer defense?”

  Thomakein stood forward with a cryptic smile upon his lips. “Harabond, how long have you been Leader of the Council?”

  “Proceed, Thomakein. Leave the personalities out of this.”

  “You do not know the man before you,” said Thomakein. “Those of you who were here when we first met a denizen of Sol—do you remember Gomanar? This is lie!”

  “Impossible.”

  “Not at all. I remembered how he resembled the lance-assistant. Elanane became Lanee later, remember. This man before you, Members of the Council, is the man who promised never to tell of Ertene.

  He was willing to violate his initial oath to Terra and keep us from exposure. This is the man who spoke openly on Terra, violating his oath to us. This is the man who is now violating his oath to us by being here—he promised never to return.”

  “Get Charalas,” said Harabond. A courier left silently, scowling that his absence would deprive him of some interesting scenes.

  “Now,” said Harabond, “if this is whom you say, prove it here and now!”