Lucifer Comet (2464 CE)

by Ian Wallace

  “You? Gians?”

  The old man nodded.

  Narfar’s head turned to Dorita: “He my best young leader—” He turned back to Gians: You too weak to talk. You mindspeak to me. What happen to you? What happen to city?

  You went away, Narfar. Long time ago. We not know what to do without you. You give us laws, but laws not work without you.

  Laws not work without me? Can not be, Gians!

  The ancient nodded apathetically. So we think too, but not so. You teach us, everybody follow leader, leader follow his leader, and so on. You teach us, not think up new things, just make things better the way they are. When you go, we keep on doing that. For a time it work. But leaders all have to follow leaders, and top leaders have to follow you, and you not there. Top leaders not know what to do, so bottom leaders not know what to do, so nobody know what to do.

  Gians was interrupted by a fit of coughing and breath-gasping as though he had been talking aloud. Then he went on: So then one top leader say, I be king now. That Herdu, remember him? Other top leaders say no, Narfar is only king. I one of other top leaders, I say no too. Herdu say, I king now, you not like, you fight me. That start a lot of fighting, all top leaders fight with all, I stay out. When all top leaders fight, bottom leaders begin fighting too, some bottom leaders fight top leaders, all men in city get fighting, women get fighting, children get fighting. First thing I know, most people in city dead and nobody alive know what to do any more. City go to hell. People die. I alive, last except one— Fiercely Narfar demanded: What one besides you still alive?

  Dorita intervened: The child I saw in that hut over there.

  Gians nodded once. And then he fell, dead of thought-exhaustion.

  Narfar stood, frowning down at the Glans-corpse. He said aloud: “We bury Gians. We take child.”

  Neither is necessary, she responded. If we get you back to your people before all this trouble starts, it will never happen.

  How that be? It happen already!

  But you said it could not happen.

  That right. Could not. But it happen, somehow.

  Maybe you having bad dream. When I get you back, it will be all right, it will never happen.

  He straightened, stretching his wings. That sound all right. / make dreams for people, you make dreams for me. Okay. Come, we go sit on my throne and do time-stuff.

  Narsua gazed upward at the towering walls of her world. She had eaten many, she had survived, she had learned much. Coming into her was a potent sense that something arousingly important was happening out there. But the feeling of it was rock-wall-clogged, she could not discern the nature of it.

  Perhaps it was important enough to report to the god whom they all nurtured….

  20

  Only for an instant did Dorita backtime, a spare two generations deeper into past….

  She came into orientation in Narfar’s lap on the throne in the throne room (fresh withe-walls, fresh thatch, green, alive) confronted by a group of randomly positioned, naked blue-green Neanderthaloid men who were gaping their amazement at the abrupt reoccupation of the throne. Somebody gasped: “Narfar!” and somebody else shouted, “With goddess in his lap!” and they all prostrated themselves on the fresh-reeded dirt floor.

  Narfar arose with dignity, clasping Dorita around the waist with one arm so that she hung dangling; so hanging, she continued to appraise the men, recognizing a young version of Gians among them. Narfar addressed them; and by now her ear was well synched to the tempo of his gibber, so that she understood most of what followed.

  The winged king-god demanded: “Why all this falling down? Get up!” Their heads came off the floor. Slowly Gians got to his feet, then another, then two others, then all of them. And they stood shocked-staring.

  A heavy-set, powerful fortyish man advanced and exclaimed as though badly upset and even somewhat put out: “Narfar! You back!”

  “You think I not come back, Herdu? You be king then, maybe?” Herdu edged backward until he was partly behind another man. (Dorita was appreciating the spring green hue of the Narfar-skin, with its orange-red fire-hair, among the general blue-green of his minions.) These were obviously the top leaders, since they had dared congregate in the throne room without their king.

  Gians cried out: “But you gone many suns! We not know what to do without you! We glad you back—glad! Who woman?”

  “Woman?” Suddenly Narfar remembered Dorita; he set her gently on her feet and hugged her with a big arm, spreading wings a little. “I god, this my goddess. I bring her from another world far away in sky. Name Dorita, good name for Dora! She rule all Dora with me! You all fall down now, like you do to me!”

  All of them hit dirt—except Herdu, who stood glowering at Dorita. She scented a developing emergency: cloudily she saw what it was….

  Narfar demanded. “What trouble, Herdu? Why you not fall down to Dorita?”

  Said Herdu stolidly, “She funny woman.” Heads were leaving the floor.

  Narfar grew terrible. “So?”

  “You tell us funny people no good. You send them all away. Why you now bring funny woman for goddess?”

  Several men were up on their knees, evidently of two minds about this rebellion. Dorita was soul-chilled. But then Narfar rebutted with surprising patience. “She look like funny woman, but she not funny inside. Inside is where counts. She mindspeak to me, I mindspeak to her; funny people not mindspeak, just talk funny. You not know that, Herdu?”

  From everywhere in the room she was getting bad thoughts. If the people of Narfar should revolt against their god-king because of her, where would that leave her? What would it do to realization of her ultimate objective? Would Narfar stand up to them for her? Which side would he choose?

  He surveyed them for a moment or two. Then he turned to her, his face very stern, and he clasped both of her shoulders and mindspoke, Dorita, you like me?

  Sure.

  You like to stay here with me, be goddess of Dora?

  Sure, but— These guys, they no understand not funny woman inside, all they see is funny woman outside. I can fix that, but it hurt a little. You decide, Dorita. You hurt a little and let me make you not-funny outside? Or you go away? I want you here, but these my people, they need me; if you stay funny outside, you have to go away. Whay you say, Dorita?

  In panic, she comprehended what was in his mind for her. Hurt a little? Why, it might kill her in slow agony! And even if she should survive—what of her woman’s pride? Among her own kind, she would be forever a monster….

  Dorita, what you say?

  On the other hand, who gave a damn about people? The quest was the thing … But could she stand the physical anguish?

  She temporized: How much it hurt?

  Not much. Maybe not any. Here, I fix. I make it like dream for you, you watch what I do to you, you not feel it, just see it happen. Yes or no?

  Suicidally she yelled: “DO IT! MAKE DREAM!”

  Abruptly she was hovering invisible somewhere above all the people, watching herself with interest as Narfar, in front of all his leaders, laid hands upon her, twisted her legs so they bowed, thumb-pressed her chin until plastically it receded, molded her forehead until it too receded while bone-ridge bulged above her eyes….

  The woman named Dorita fell unconscious to the floor. Just for an instant longer, the scene was visible to Dorita above: Narfar turning in triumph to his leaders; Herdu and all the rest falling prone to the reeds….

  Part Four

  INTERTIME FUGUE

  Days One through Thirty

  (following Day Zero marvelous

  in spacetime)

  21

  Day One through Day Eleven

  Methuen faced the full ten members of his task force in a conference room at the Science Center. Other than those previously vocal, the yesterday-arrivals were a glaciologist from Antarctica and a stratogeologist from Bolivaria; today appeared also a zoologist from Sudafrika, a botanist from the Fertile Crescent, and a microbiolo
gist from-Polymicronesia.

  Their chairman told them flatly: “We are in pretty bad trouble as an investing group. We have lost our two prime subjects from the comet, and also our telepathic interpreter. Quarfar died yesterday; while the batman called Narfar appears to have departed to his home world of Dora—taking with him our telepath, Miss Lanceo.” (A woman murmured, “Fascinating.”)

  “We have, however, made some progress on some fronts. We know a good deal about the language of Quarfar, which appears to be an enrichment of Narfar’s language. Through our absconding interpreter—she absconded with Narfar—we have a good deal from Quarfar about the relationships between the two comet-creatures and about the planet Dora. And through Dr. Sari here, working partly with information from Quarfar, we have established that Dora is a planet of the star Saiph in Orion, and that the five-forty-six gradient extends at least to Saiph; and finally, that the comet called Gladys originated near Saiph and was accelerated by the gradient. Dr. Sari, do you wish to correct my remarks?”

  She negated with a headshake, then uttered softly, “All will understand that these conclusions are theoretical and do require some sort of empirical confirmation.”

  “So,” Methuen acknowledged. “Now, your chairman confesses that he is at a bit of a loss as to how this task force can proceed with its charge. I await your thoughts.” (Masterful, Zorbin reflected, frowning to avoid smiling.)

  Dr. Liana Green, the trim cafe-au-lait glaciologist from

  Antarctica, decided to assert herself. “Mr. Chairman, I have read the record; and because of my own peculiar discipline, I was interested indeed in Quarfar’s account of Dora as a planet extensively capped by ice at and far below both poles and with a relatively narrow tropical equator zone. Such a phenomenon could only occur if the planet’s axis were vertical, that is, tangential to its sun all year round, instead of being tipped with respect to the sun as with Erth. On Dora there would be no rotation of seasons: all year round the sun’s rays would fall directly on the equator; whereas at the poles the rays would always come in at acute angles to the surface, having to work their way through much more atmosphere, losing much of their heat. Expressing personal and professional interest, I would like nothing better than to visit this Dora and study its icecaps. And I suspect that my colleagues here would find various other sorts of interest in such an expedition.”

  Sari nodded vigorous assent. Olga rumbled: “Perhaps I could pick up the existing language or languages and make some backward inferences.” Others were eager to make their own insertions… .

  Methuen interrupted with a dampening comment. “Please recall that Quarfar and Narfar have not seen Dora during the fifty thousand years of their comet-transit to Erth. This task force was convened, not to study the planetary system of Saiph, but to arrive at conclusions directly related to the comet and its humanoid inclusions and to the five-forty-six gradient. A study in situ of the planet Dora merely as of now would come under some different jurisdiction in which, to be sure, some or all of you might be involved. This task force, of course, can make recommendations beyond the immediate scope of its charge—” I

  That made Chu furious; he rose to his feet, although he was so short that many did not notice this. Controlling his , anger, he asserted with icy precision: “Captain, I fully respect your own discipline, and indeed I respect you personally as a man and as a mind. But in this case, conceive that you may I have underrated the capabilities of the various disciplines represented here. Visiting Dora now, I as an anthropologist can make many useful inferences about Dora’s ancient cultures from evidence presently available there; and so can Dr. Seal as an archaeologist. You yourself, I am sure, will admit that Dr. Sari can make better computations of past astro-physical facts on a basis of present observations; and that Dr. Green not only can make valid inferences about past ice fields from present observations, but may even be able to throw considerable light on the origin of Comet Gladys. Similar observations apply to Linguist Alexandrovna, Psychobiologist Ombasa, Stratogeologist Peranza, Zoologist Hoek, Botanist Farouki, and Microbiologist Manumuko. Also, sir, there is the little matter of empirically verifying that the five-forty-six gradient extends at least from here to Saiph and determining whether it may extend even farther. Oh, Captain, such an expedition by this task force would be pertinent to our charge, even necessary to it!” He nodded once. He sat, trembling a little.

  Olga Alexandrovna moved that such an expedition be requested. Chu Huang seconded.

  Mabel Seal suggested, “By way of discussing the motion, I wonder whether time-length of the expedition should be decided and costs projected before we vote.”

  Zorbin raised a timid hand; the chair recognized him. Zor-bin told them studiously: “I can perhaps help you on the question of costs. The ship would have to be a frigate which could perhaps be taken out of mothballs and refitted; no charge for the frigate; for refitting, it would depend on what you would want, but well mention a working figure of 100,-000 world credits as recently revalued. The frigate could make the trip to Saiph in about two weeks, which is incidentally the same length of time it took our little spacedragger to travel a quarter of the distance; round trip, four weeks; average pay per crewperson of 1,000 credits per week for a crew of forty-two comes to 168,000 credits during four weeks; add rations for all, fifty-two people at 140 credits per week, subtotal for rations roughly 30,000; add ship maintenance, about 100,000; fuel is free, it is raw space. This makes a subtotal of 398,000 credits to resurrect and refit the ship and travel two ways between Erth and Saiph.

  “Now, costs of remaining on Dora for X length of time. We will assume that the ship itself is inactive during such a period; but the crew must be paid, and there will be fuel costs for utilization of land, water, and atmospheric vehicles which the ship will bring along; we’ll minimize the food costs, assuming that suitable food can be found on Dora, since Quarfar could eat our food with ease, and presumably Narfar also ate here somehow. As an example, assume that the expedition remains ten weeks on Dora: crew pay, 420,000; cargo food, 30,000; maintenance, 50,000; subtotal for the stay on Dora, 500,000 credits.

  ‘To this, of course, we have to add the government’s part in your own salaries. The government costs are difficult to estimate here, because your various institutions would be negotiating varying arrangements, ranging all the way from full pay by the institution to full pay by the government. Let’s assume, excuse me, that the government share would average 1,500 per each of you per week, subject to negotiations. For ten of you, this would be 60,000 in salary costs for the round trip, plus 150,000 during the ten weeks on Dora: subtotal government-paid scientific salaries, 210,000.

  “I will summarize. Cost of refitting a frigate and making round trip to Dora, excluding your salaries, 398,000 credits. Added costs for a ten-week stay on Dora, excluding your salaries, 500,000 credits. Government costs for your salaries, 210.000 credits. My total estimate for such an expedition is 1.108.000 credits, subject to adjustments of my averaging, and subject also to pro-rata adjustments for a different length of time on Dora.

  “It is worth noticing that this amount is only about four times the cost of sending the Ventura out to bring back a single comet. On the other hand, the recovered comet, purged of dross, has provided about five trillion kilos of ice for water or refrigeration in dry-belt countries. Funding this expedition might directly or indirectly have to be taken in part from funds for comet-dragging. I do not know this, I merely mention the possibility.

  “I hope these estimates may prove helpful. Thank you, Mr. Chairman.”

  Afterward, Methuen inquired: “Saul, in view of your final comments—are you with me or against me?”

  “With you,” Zorbin asserted, “but only in terms of full understanding by all concerned.”

  “Then,” declared Methuen, “you are with me indeed.”

  Immediately calling the assistant secretary for ESC, Methuen arrange a meeting of the entire task force with the ESC Secretary for the same afterno
on; and he asked and secured permission to invite his friend Astrofleet/Rear Admiral Manx. Him Methuen then called to report developments.

  “All I need this afternoon,” snorted Manx, “is another committee. Okay, B. J., I know what you’ll be wanting—and we have located a frigate for you, she’s the Farragut, remember her?” The captain did, and most favorably, having served aboard her as an ensign; but seeing a cunning related angle, he praised Manx as follows: “Fred, you’re no run-of-the-mine bastard, you’re a bastard’s bastard!”

  ESC Secretary Naomi Farragut (small, spare, gray, studious) listened with care to her assistant secretary’s report. She turned then to Methuen: “Anything to add, Captain?”

  Said Methuen, “Only my full support, madam.” The Secretary panned the task force faces; all responded “Support” or “Urgent support,” and several nodded vigorously.

  She invited a word from Manx. Said the admiral, “I may remark that Lieutenant Saul Zorbin, who prepared the preliminary cost estimates, is up for promotion on merit. I consider his estimates reasonably accurate. The Farragut, a frigate which we can release out of mothballs for the expedition, was only recently placed in reserve, and is in fine shape, requiring little refurbishing. That is, of course, if no great amount of special equipment needs to be installed for scientific purposes.”

  The Secretary queried softly, “What did you say her name is?”

  “The Farragut, madam. Rather a nice coincidence.”

  Naomi Farragut smiled tightly, raising an eyebrow at Manx—who deadpanned. She inquired, “Admiral, what is your time estimate for releasing the ship to Captain Methuen?”

  “If this is approved, madam, I will immediately release the ship to the captain who will supervise her preparation and will depart when he and his task force are ready. We think we can rather quickly scrape up a competent crew most of whom have Farragut experience in deep space, with Lieutenant-Commander Zorbin as executive officer.” All looked at Zorbin, who soberly examined a small section of carpet, unaware that he was fingering the soon-to-be-occupied space between the two gold stripes on his cuff.