Star Quest Page 11
Tohm looked up to the others. Mayna was crying. Corgi may have been: the yellow was a very different shade from what Tohm had ever seen in the radar patches. It may have constituted tears.
“Too bad… about… Tarnilee,” Hunk said. “Too bad, Tohm.” And then he was gone: no less a man in death than ever took a breath. Tohm recognized that as a line from some poem he had picked out of the books in Triggy Gop's bowels. He removed his hand from the blood-covered chin and stood.
“We had better go,” Corgi said suddenly, turning away from the remains of Hunk. “They'll be calling in heavy artillery.”
Tohm ordered the Jumbo to follow.
They trudged across the desert, suddenly very weary in all their well-shaped and mis-shapen bones.
“He's here,” Corgi said at last, brightening a bit.
“The Old Man,” Babe whispered reverently in explanation.
Tohm could see, among the black shadows of the trees, a greater shadow of what seemed to be a ship. A portal hummed open. They stepped through. “Welcome,” the Old Man said.
Tohm gasped. “Good God, Triggy Gop!”
XV
“Who else?” the voice drifted from the walls.
'I'll be damned!”
“I doubt that. The others?”
“Dead,” Corgi said flatly and as quickly as he could. He did not seem to want to dwell upon it.
There was a moment of silence before Triggy spoke. “It happens. It has happened to others of us and will happen again. We must remember, however, the cause. In fact, we may all have a chance to die for the cause. The Romaghins have discovered, through their intelligence network, that a great number of Muties are entering Federation worlds via unknown means. They have not discovered that I am that unknown transport. But their suspicions are aroused. They have their eyes on Columbiad, where we have our greatest forces concentrated. Any moment, they may attack in an attempt to wipe out as many of us as they can before we can make our move,”
“What do we do?” Corgi asked. “I foresee a ninety percent chance that they will attack.”
Everyone frowned. “That isn't good,” Triggy sighed.
Corgi continued: “However, and this is odd, there seems to be only a thirty-five percent chance of their succeeding.”
“You're sure?” Triggy asked.
“Positive.”
Everyone had flopped onto couches. There were also ten normals, the Mutie sympathizers from the capital— ten out of three million who would actually do something about the injustice they saw.
“We are making the transfer in four hours,” Triggy announced.
There were gasps and murmurs of excitement.
“But are we ready?” Mayna asked.
“Yes, sweet child. You are the last colony to be evacuated. You will, because of your idea for total universe transfer, which was offered by your Hunk, be my staff for the operation.”
There were smiles.
“Now, please strap in. Tohm, you come to the main room and strap in the hypno-teacher. In your absence, I prepared a set of toto-experience tapes, working from the ground up. They bypass vocabulary and appeal to all senses. They should explain all of this to you.”
He stood. “I hope so.”
“They will. I'm sure of it. Perfect pieces of work — even if I say so myself.”
While the others strapped in, Tohm left and found the hypno-teacher. He was belted down before the blast came.
The tapes were very good.
He walked above the universes, looking down at each. He did not question where his vantage point may have been, but watched that which was shown with a singleness of purpose that could only have been hypno-suggestion. He understood that each universe (and there were countless trillions of them) was an all-encompassing and endless thing, yet each universe was separated from the others by a wall, a very definite barrier dubbed the Fringe. One layer of molecules separated each universe from its neighbors. In fact, that layer was one molecule stretching in all directions until eternity, though never bisecting another shell molecule.
He saw that the Muties were able to distinguish this area, to view it naturally in much the same way he was seeing it now. They could locate their own universe in this endless procession. The Mutie mind could distort the shell molecule, stretch it thin and rent it, making a portal into the neighboring universe. They could encompass their own universe with the fields of their minds, wrench it from its niche, and start it moving through the rent. If they studiously concentrated on not encompassing the Romaghin and Setessin worlds, those areas would be left behind.
The Muties' universe would not, however, collide with the neighboring universe on the other side of the rent molecule when it pushed through, for that neighboring universe would push against the shell molecule on its opposite end and force itself through into a third universal plane. The third would push into a fourth almost simultaneously; the fourth into a fifth, fifth into sixth. An endless chain would be started. The process of natural transfer of universes would never end. There would be no negative repercussions, for the process was not a circle that would eventually close itself.
The Muties wanted to encompass all of their own universe except the warlike worlds, thus pushing ninety-nine point nine percent through the rent. The gaps where the peaceful worlds had been would be (?) empty in the old universe, and the spots where the warlike worlds had been would be gaps in the new universe. It was quite like a cancer operation, cutting out the malignant growths — in this case, worlds — and leaving them behind. What happened to the Romaghins and Setessins in that great empty universe was not their worry. Cruel, perhaps, but wasn't it worth it to all those neutral peoples who had been caught up in an eight hundred year war?
All of this was shown him, not in words, but in mind pictures, in thought-image concepts that he could grasp with all senses.
At last, he understood.
“Well?” Triggy Gop said, when he came out of hypno-teach.
“It's clear now.”
“Are you with us?”
He grinned at the walls where the cameras would be watching him. “Of course.”
“I'm glad. I was intrigued by you that first time we met. When I learned you were with Corgi's group, I wasn't surprised. Not really. In fact, I was so intrigued with you that I began writing an opus about your exploits. I expect to get a full account from you so that I may work on the verse once we get through to the new universe and this great labor is over.”
“An heroic epic?”
“Something like that.”
“You know that my search never reached fruition.”
“Well, we shall see.”
“It didn't. A bust.”
“Time heals all wounds. Meanwhile, stay strapped in. We're landing on Columbiad in a few minutes. I have to attend to that now.”
Tohm leaned back in the chair. The entire concept was staggering. The Muties had been trying to transfer the capital of Basa II into another universe. But they had discovered that it was simpler to transfer everything but the Romaghins and Setessins! He still could not grasp it all. But it meant something now. He had seen how war and the war-makers had held back an entire people — the Muties — and had disrupted the entire lives of billions more. To end war was certainly a noble gesture. He wanted to be in on it. It was something to continue living for. And the hissing in the bushes … The filling in of a blank face …
The retro-rockets fired, jarring the library…
The time was coming swiftly…
XVI
“You sir over there,” Corgi said, pointing across the room full of Muties to an empty chair next to Mayna.
“Next to her?”
“Why not?”
“She hates my every cell.”
Corgi smiled sarcastically. “Sure.”
“She does. Please seat me elsewhere.”
“You really believe—”
“Listen, Corgi, she will claw me to pieces if I go near her.”
&n
bsp; “You fool.”
“Look, don't call me that. Everyone has had a turn now, so shut up.”
Corgi grabbed his arm. “No. You are a fool. You are a fool not to see when someone is in love with you. Surely, your Tarnilee never looked at you the way Mayna does.”
Tohm wrinkled his brow in uncertainty. “I—”
“You're a fool. I'll say it again: you're a fool.”
“No. Look, she said I didn't understand—”
“And you didn't. You didn't understand that she had been taught to fight normals, to consider herself better, and she fell, instead, in love with one. All of her values and mores were upset. She fought you to bolster herself, her own beliefs that were being shattered by your presence. She fell in love — well, on first sight. But all you could think of was finding Tarnilee. Did you ever tell Mayna you loved her?”
“No!”
“But you do, don't you?”
He tried to deny it, but he could not find the words.
“She wanted to be sure that you understood us, for, if you really did, it would justify her love. Now go sit next to her. The time has come.”
He hesitated a moment, then struck off across the room. There were Muties in every chamber of Triggy Gop's belly. Two thousand of them. The remainder of their numbers were hooked electronically to the Old Man. The moment had come. He slumped into the chair, looked at her. “Good luck,” he said at last.
“Thank you, Hero Tohm.”
“For God's sake—”
But he was interrupted by Triggy. “Okay, let us prepare ourselves. We may not have time, but we can try. And if we succeed today, let us not forget that it was Hunk, a brave and intelligent man, who died for us and gave us this plan. Now, first stage.”
Tohm looked about at the weird conglomeration, the two-headed men, the graceful nymphets with eyes that constantly changed colors, the winged people. They were a wonderful phantasmagoria. As a single entity, they slipped into a trance.
The last word Mayna spoke was this: “Tohm.”
He looked to her full lips as they closed into sleep. Perhaps Corgi had been right. Perhaps he was the greatest fool to come down the space lanes in a thousand years. He put a hand on her shoulder, though she could not feel it, and waited. “Stage two,” Triggy Gop said. There was no noticeable outward change in the Muties, but Tohm thought he sensed a spiritual drawing away.
“Tohm!” Triggy snapped through his wire mouth.
He sat erect. “What?”
“The Romaghins. Good heavens, ten of their Jumbos are closing in on Columbiad. They'll find us before we can act.”
“I could lead them on a wild goose chase with Jumbo Ten.”
“Take her with you,” Triggy said.
“But—”
“She wouldn't want you to go without her. She didn't have to save you back on Basa II. The others were leaving early. They would have been gone before you were tortured, before you could have spilled their location to the police.”
His mouth fell open involuntarily. “Everyone knew but me.”
“You were a particular fool. Now move.”
He lifted the slight catgirl and carried her into the room with the waiting Jumbo. If this were death, and that seemed likely, it would not be lonely.
“Stage three,” Triggy said behind.
They were drifting like deadly seeds above Columbiad, scanning the planet below. Tohm brought J-10 up from the horizon and in behind them. They were too busy searching for the Mutie congregation on Columbiad to scan space too. He opened his corn-system to listen in on whatever they said. If they were not manned by Romaghins and were organic brain directed, he would not be as fast as they in battle. But he had the advantage of surprise. He joined their formation at the rear and armed all seven nuclear rockets. He would have to cut the odds swiftly.
“I HAVE THEM. MERICIVE CITY. I THINK ITS A FLOATING LIBRARY.”
“FEDERATION CONSPIRACY!” another said.
“WE WILL CLOSE—”
There was no sense in waiting. Every second would bring them closer to Triggy, and that was just what he had to stop. He set each rocket to home in on a different point of the formation, snapped the All Go button, and rocked with the concussion. There was an intensely brilliant flash as the seven nuclears exploded. But it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Seven Jumbos had been pulverized by direct hits, and one more had been crushed when caught between two blasts. The other two were still stunned by the change of events.
“WHO'S LEFT! WHO'S LEFT!” the command Jumbo barked. “WHO ARE YOU TWO?”
“THIS IS SANGELITH,” the second machine reported.
He could waste no time. He didn't know what name to report in under, so he blasted Sangelith with his laser cannon, boring a hole through the tough hide into the power area.
“RENEGADE. MY GOD, RENEGADE!” the command machine was screaming.
A beam lanced out at Tohm, missed, wild as all Hell.
Mayna moaned in the seat next to him.
He pulled back on the dive stick, took the Jumbo down. But not fast enough. A beam caught the visor cameras, blew them out, blinding the ship. He would have to rely on radar alone. And, suddenly, that was going to be bad, for a dozen new blips appeared, moving in from deep space. The lone Romaghin was getting aid. And if these newcomers had been watching the battle via radar, they knew the guilty party.
He put a hand out and stroked the silken hair of the beautiful creature next to him.
The distant blips were growing larger. He could not fight them with a laser cannon, not when they had seven missiles each. As he thought of the missiles, three smaller blips snapped into view on the screen, closing fast. There would now be only seconds.
He unsnapped her safety belt and drew her into his lap. He only wished she could be conscious now to tell him he had been a fool. He looked back to the screen just as the missiles and Jumbos disappeared completely…
XVII
Triggy gop's intestinal tract was filled with wild cheering. He shut down most of his audio receptors so as not to get a brainache. The robo-snoops they had stationed in space were reporting back on the areas where the Romaghin and Setessin worlds had been. They were gone, left behind. But, unlike anyone had expected, some of those locations were filled with new worlds. Obviously, the gaps in their universe had been filled in by corresponding leftovers from the universe they had forced out of this plane. And if the robo-snoop films could be believed, these planets were not inhabited by normals, but by Muties. Natural, evolved Muties, not radiation-induced ones. One of the new globes was peopled by honest-to-god satyrs! Another by mermen and mermaids. He wished Fish had lived. They had come, freaks, into a world where freaks were the normal. They belonged here.
He tried once again to contact Jumbo Ten. This time there was an answer.
“Hello?”
“Tohm, why in God's name haven't you answered me? I've been calling for over two hours!”
“First,” Tohm said, “what happened to those missiles and Jumbos?”
“I instructed the others not to encompass them when we made the transfer. They were left in the old universe.”
Silence. Except for a purring sound like an animal hissing in the bushes…
“Tohm!”
“Huh?”
“Are you both all right?”
“Sure. We're fine.” There was a hissing and giggling sound in the background. A hissing very much like a cat. A giggling very much like a young girl.
“Look,” Triggy said. “Are you going to marry her?”
Laughter at the other end.
Tohm spoke at length. “I am. But I fail to see where that is any of your business, Triggy.”
“I'll be damned! It certainly is my business. She's my daughter!”
“Your daught—” the voice began to shout before Triggy Gop broke the connection. He giggled. He had had the last word, and that pleased him. He made grand preparations for the time when they would land. He prepared a fa
bulous party with cakes and wines and tiny assorted sandwiches.
But the cakes grew stale, the wines went flat, and the sandwiches spoiled, for they did not land for ten days.
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