The Rituals of Infinity

by Michael Moorcock

  'An alternate actually being created!' Faustaff was excited now. 'Can't we get there—see how it happens. It could tell us a lot ...'

  'We've tried to get through to E-Zero, as we've called it, but every attempt seems to have been blocked. This Earth isn't being created naturally—there is an intelligence behind it.'

  Faustaff took this easily. The logical assumption now could only be that some non-human force was at work not only, as was now obvious, destroying worlds, but creating them as well. Somewhere the D-squaders, Steifflomeis and Maggy White fitted in—and could probably tell them a lot. All the events of recent days showed that the situation was, from their point of view, worsening. And the odds that faced

  them were bigger than they had guessed.

  Faustaff helped himself to a cup of coffee from the tray that had been brought in.

  Doctor May seemed impatient. 'What can we do, professor? We are unprepared for the attack, we are certainly ill-equipped to deal with even another big D-squad offensive of the kind you have just experienced on E-15. It is obvious that up to now these forces have been playing with us.'

  Faustaff nodded and sipped his coffee. 'Our first objective must be Orelli's headquarters,' he said. He felt sick as he made his next statement. 'It must be destroyed—and everything that is in it.'

  'Destroyed?' May was well acquainted with Faustaffs obsessive views about the sanctity of life.

  'There is nothing else we can do. I never thought—I hoped I would never find myself in a situation like this, but we shall just have to follow the line of killing a few for the sake of the many.' Even as Faustaff spoke he heard his own voice of a short time ago talking about the dangers of justifying the taking of life under any conditions.

  Doctor May seemed almost satisfied. 'You say he's on E-4. The area would be covered by grid sections 38 and 62 roughly. Do you want to lead the expedition? We shall have to send 'copters and bombs, I suppose.'

  Faustaff shook his head. 'No', I won't go with it. Give them a five-minute warning, though. Give them that, at least. That won't allow them time to set up a tunneller and escape with the disrupter. I told you about the place—it'll be easy to spot, a cathedral.'

  After Doctor May had gone off to arrange the expedition Faustaff sat studying the information that had so far been gathered about Earth Zero. There was very little. Apparently the discovery had been almost accidental. When E-15 was breaking up and it was becoming increasingly difficult to get

  tunnels between the worlds the technicians on E-l found data being recorded on their instruments that was unusual. A check had led to contact with E-0. They had sent out probes and had found a planet that was still unstable, at that stage only a sphere consisting of elements still in a state of mutation. Soon after this their probes had been blocked and they had been unable to get anything but faint indications of the existence of the new body. All they really knew was that it was there, but they did not know how it had come there or who was responsible for it. Faustaff wanted to know why above everything else.

  It was perhaps an unscientific attitude, he reflected as he got up. He had never before had quite such a strong sense of being unable to control a situation he found himself in. There was so little he could do at this stage. Philosophically he decided to give up and go to his house in the outer suburbs of Haifa, get a full night's sleep—the first he would have had in some time—hoping to have some ideas in the morning.

  He left the building and walked out into the mid-day sunshine of the busy modern city. He flagged down a taxi and gave his address. Wearily he listened to the taxi-driver talking about the 'crisis' which seemed to have developed in his absence. He couldn't quite follow the details and made no serious attempt to, but it appeared that the East and West were having one of their periodic wrangles, this time over some South East Asian country and Yugoslavia. Since Tito's death Yugoslavia had been considered fair game for both blocs and although the Yugoslavs had steadfastly resisted any attempts at colonialism on the part of both East and West their situation was getting weaker. A revolution— from what appeared to be an essentially small group of fundamentalist Communists—had given the U.S.S.R. and the U.S.A. an excuse for sending in peace-keeping forces. From what the taxi-driver was saying there had already been open fighting between the Russians and the Americans and

  the Russian and American ambassadors had just withdrawn from the respective countries. Faustaff, used to such periodic events, was not able to feel the same interest in the situation as the taxi-driver. In his opinion the man was unnecessarily excited. The thing would die down eventually. It always had. Faustaff had more important things on his mind.

  The taxi drew up outside his house, a small bungalow with a garden full of orange blossom. He paid the driver and walked up the concrete path to the front door. He felt in his pockets for the key, but as usual he had lost it. He reached up to the ledge over the door and found the spare key, unlocked the door, replaced the key and went in. The house was cool and tidy. He rarely used most of the rooms. He walked into his bedroom which was in the same state as he'd left it several weeks before. Clothes lay everywhere, on the floor and the unmade bed. He went to the window and opened it. He picked a towel off the television set that faced the foot of his bed and went into the bathroom. He began to shower.

  When he returned, naked, to his room, there was a girl sitting on the bed. Her perfect legs were crossed and her perfect hands lay folded in her lap. It was Maggy White, whom Faustaff had encountered at the same time as he had first met Steifflomeis in the desert motel on E-3.

  'Hello, professor,' she said coolly. 'Do you never wear clothes, then?'

  Faustaff remembered that the first time he'd met her he had been naked. He grinned and in doing so felt immediately his old relaxed self.

  'As rarely as possible,' he smiled. 'Have you come to try to do me in, too?'

  Her humourless smile disturbed him. He wondered if making love to her would produce any real emotion. Her effect on him was far deeper than Steifflomeis's. She didn't reply.

  'Your friend Steifflomeis had a bash at it,' he said. 'Or

  have you been in touch with him since then?' 'What makes you think Steifflomeis is my friend?' 'You certainly travel together.' 'That doesn't make us friends.' 'I suppose not.'

  Faustaff paused and then said: 'What's the latest news concerning the simulations.' The last word was one Steifflomeis had used. He hoped that he might trick her into giving him more information if he sounded knowledgeable.

  'Nothing fresh,' she said.

  Once again Faustaff wondered how a woman so well-endowed on the surface could appear to be so totally sexless.

  'Why are you here?' he asked, going to the wardrobe and getting fresh clothes out. He pulled on a pair of jeans, hauling the belt around his huge stomach. He was putting on weight, he thought, the belt could hardly be pulled to the first notch.

  'A social visit,' she said.

  'That's ridiculous. I see that a new Earth is taking shape. Why?'

  'Who can explain the secrets of the universe better than yourself, professor, a scientist?' 'You.'

  'I know nothing of science.'

  Out of curiosity Faustaff sat on the bed beside her and stroked her knee. Once again she smiled coolly and her eyes became hooded. She lay back on the bed.

  Faustaff lay beside her and stroked her stomach. He noticed that her breathing remained constant even when he stroked her breasts through the cloth of her buttoned-up grey suit. He rolled over and stood up.

  'Could you be Mark Two?' he asked. 'I dissected a D-squader a while ago. They're robots, you know—or androids, I think the term is.'

  Perhaps he spotted a flash of anger in her eyes. They certainly widened for a moment and then half-closed again.

  'Is that what you are? An android?'

  'You could find out if you made love to me.'

  Faustaff smiled and shook his head. 'Sweetheart, you're just not my type.'

  T thought any young woman was y
our type, professor.'

  'So did I till I met you.'

  Her face remained expressionless.

  'What are you here for?' he asked. 'You didn't come because you felt randy, that's certain.'

  'I told you—a social visit.'

  'Orders from your principals. To do what, I wonder.'

  'To convince you of the silliness of continuing this game you're playing.' She shrugged. 'Steifflomeis was unable to convince you. I might be able to.'

  'What line are you going to take?'

  'A reasonable one. A logical one. Can't you see that you are interfering with something that you will never understand, that you are just a minor irritant to the people who have almost total power over the parallels ...'

  'The simulations? What do they simulate?'

  'You are dull, professor. They simulate Earth, naturally.'

  'Then which Earth is it that they simulate. This one?'

  'You think yours is any different from the others? They are all simulations. Yours was, until recently, simply the last of many. Do you know how many simulations there have been?'

  'I've known of sixteen.'

  'More than a thousand.'

  'So you've destroyed nine hundred and eighty-six altogether. I suppose there were people on all of them. You've murdered millions!' Faustaff could not stop himself from feeling shocked by this revelation.

  'They owed their lives to us. They were ours to take.'

  T can't accept that.'

  'Turn on the television. Get the news,' she said suddenly. 'What for?'

  'Turn it on and see.'

  He went to the set and switched it on. He selected the English-speaking channel for convenience. Some people were being interviewed. They looked grim and their voices were dull with fatalism.

  As Faustaff listened he realised that war must have been declared between the East and West. The men were not talking about the possible outcome. They were discussing which areas might survive. The general effect was that they didn't expect anywhere to survive.

  Faustaff turned to Maggy White who was smiling again. 'Is this it? The nuclear war? I didn't expect it—I thought it was impossible.'

  'Earth One is doomed, professor. It's a fact. While you were worrying about the other simulations your own was nearing destruction. You can't blame anyone else for this, professor. Who caused the death of Earth One ... ?'

  'It must be artificially done. Your people must have ...'

  'Nonsense. It was built into your society.'

  'Who built it in?'

  'They did, I suppose, but unknowingly. It is not in their interest, I assure you, to have this happen to a planet. They are hoping for a Utopia. They are desperately trying to create one.'

  'Their methods seem crude.'

  'Perhaps they are—by their standards, but certainly not by yours. You could never comprehend the complicated task they have set themselves.'

  'Who are they?'

  'People. In the long run your ideals and theirs are not so different. Their scheme is vaster, that is all. Human beings must die. It is thought to be unfortunate by many of them. They aren't unsympathetic ...'

  'Not unsympathetic? They destroy worlds casually, they let this happen—this war—when from all you say they could stop it. I can't have much respect for a race that regards life so cheaply.'

  K9

  'They are a desperate race. They are driven to desperate means.'

  'Haven't they ever—reflected?'

  'Of course, many thousands of your years ago, before the situation worsened. There were debates, arguments, factions created. A great deal of time was lost.'

  'I see. And if they are so powerful and they want me out of the way, why don't they destroy me as they destroy whole planets? Your statements appear to be inconsistent.'

  'Not so. It is a very complicated matter to eliminate individuals. It must be done by agents, such as myself. Usually it has been found expedient to destroy the whole planet if too many irritating individuals interfered in their plans.'

  'Are you going to fill me in—tell me everything about these people. If I'm going to die because of a nuclear war, it shouldn't matter.'

  'I wouldn't run the risk. You have a large share of pure luck, professor. I would suffer if I told you more and you escaped.'

  'How would they punish you?'

  'I'm sorry. I've told you enough.' She spoke rapidly, for the first time.

  'So I'm to die. Then why did you come here to dissuade me if you knew what was going to happen?'

  'As I said, you may not die. You are lucky. Can't you simply accept that you are complicating a situation involving matters that are completely above your head? Can't you accept that there is a greater purpose to all this?'

  'I can't accept death as a necessary evil, if that's what you mean—or premature death, anyway.'

  'Your moralising is naive—cheap.'

  'That's what your friend Steifflomeis says. But it isn't to me. I'm a simple man, Miss White.'

  She shrugged. 'You will never understand, will you?'

  T don't know what you mean.'

  'That's what I mean.'

  'Why didn't you kill me, anyway?' He turned away and began to put on a shirt. The television continued to drone on, the voices becoming hollower and hollower. 'You had the opportunity. I didn't know you were in the house.'

  'Both Steifflomeis and myself have a fairly free hand in how we handle problems. I was curious about these worlds, particularly about you. I have never been made love to.' She got up and came towards him. 'I had heard that you were good at it.'

  'Only when I enjoy it. It seems odd that these people of yours understand little of human psychology from what I've gathered.'

  'Do you understand the psychology of a frog in any detail?'

  'A frog's psychology is a considerably simpler thing than a person's.'

  'Not to a creature with a much more complex psychology than a person's.'

  'I'm tired of this, Miss White. I must get back to my headquarters. You can write me off as an irritant from now on. I don't expect my organisation to survive the coming war.'

  'I expected you to escape to some other simulation. It would give you a respite anyway.'

  He looked at her curiously. She had sounded almost animated, almost concerned for him.

  In a softer tone he said: 'Are you suggesting that?'

  'If you like.'

  He frowned, looking into her eyes. For some reason he suddenly felt sympathy for her without knowing why.

  'You'd better get going yourself,' he said tersely, turning and making for the door.

  The streets outside were deserted. This was unusual for the time of day. A bus stopped nearby. He ran to catch it. It would take him close to his headquarters. He was the only

  person on the bus apart from the driver. He felt lonely as they drove into Haifa.

  10

  Escape from E-l

  Faustaff and Dr May watched as men and equipment were hurried through the tunnel which had been made to E-3. The expression on May's face was one of hopelessness. The bombs had already started to drop and the last report they had seen had told them that Britain had been totally destroyed, as had half of Europe.

  They had given themselves an hourto evacuate everything and everyone they could. Doctor May checked his watch and glanced at Faustaff.

  'Time's up, professor.'

  Faustaff nodded and followed May into the tunnel. It took a great deal to depress him, but to see the organisation he and his father had built up crumbling, forced to abandon its main centre, made him miserable and unable to think clearly.

  The trip through the grey tunnel to the familiar gilt and plush dance hall of The Golden Gate which was their main transceiving station on E-3, was easily made. When they arrived, the men just stood around, murmuring to one another and glancing at Faustaff; he knew that he was expected to cheer them up. He forced himself out of his mood and smiled.

  'We all need a drink,' was the only
thing he could think of to say as he walked towards the dusty bar. He leaned across it and reached under, finding bottles and glasses and setting them on the counter. The men moved forward and took the glasses he filled for them.

  Faustaff hauled himself up so that he was sitting on the bar.

  'We're in a pretty desperate situation,' he told them. 'The enemy—I've hardly any better idea of them than you have—have for some reason decided to launch an all-out attack on the subspacial worlds. It's plain now that all their previous attacks, using the D-squaders, have hardly been serious. We underestimated the opposition, if you like. Frankly my own opinion is that it won't be long before they succeed in breaking up all the subspacial alternates—that's what they want.'

  'Then there's nothing we can do,' Doctor May said wearily.

  'Only one thing occurs to me,' Faustaff said. 'We know that the enemy considers these worlds as something to be destroyed. But what about E-Zero? This has just been created—either by them or by someone else like them—and I gather they aren't normally willing to destroy a recently created world. Our only chance is in getting a big tunnel through to E-Zero and setting up our headquarters there. From then on we can evacuate people from these worlds to E-Zero.'

  'But what if E-Zero can't support so many?' a man said.

  'It will have to.' Faustaff drained his glass. 'As far as I can see our only course of action is to concentrate everything on getting a tunnel through to E-Zero.'

  Doctor May shook his head, staring at the floor.

  'I don't see the point,' he said. 'We're beaten. We're going to die sooner or later with everyone else. Why don't we just give up now?'

  Faustaff nodded sympathetically. 'I understand—but

  we've got our responsibilities. We all took those on when we joined the organisation.'

  'That was before we knew the extent of what we'd let ourselves in for,' May said sharply.

  'Possibly. But what's the point of being fatalistic at this stage? If we're due to be wiped out, we might at least try the only chance we have.'

  'And what then?' May looked up. He seemed angry now. 'A few more days before the enemy decided to destroy E-Zero? Count me out, professor.'