by Hans Kneifel
The shrill squalling of the alarm suddenly broke off, and a communication display flashed up. Behind Rasturi and Loris, two dozen Lemcharoys gathered: the sick, Muties, and the healthy.
"Go down the row," Kalymel said loudly. "So the three are gone. What happened?"
"They attacked Loris when he brought them food and went to change their bandages."
" ... It was as though they suddenly went crazy," Loris explained excitedly. They all leaped up at the same time, shoved me into the hygiene cell, and went out the door. Their bandages came loose and trailed behind them."
"Was there a shock, something that set them off?" Kalymel asked.
A young inhabitant of the Ship pushed his way through the assembled crowd and waved excitedly.
"No, nothing." Loris and Rasturi shook their heads.
Out the corner of his eye, Kalymel saw the symbol of the Network appear on a display. The web quivered, the spider left the center, and the Naahk appeared on the screen. Ice-cold fear crawled up through Kalymel's insides and took firm hold in his throat.
"They've broken into the weapon cabinets and they're running towards the projector compartments!" the young man exclaimed.
Kalymel turned to the vidscreen, made a brief greeting to the lens, and raised his hand. The sound of people talking excitedly died out.
"Tenoy and shuttle pilot Kalymel speaking, Naahk," Kalymel said loudly enough that everyone in the vicinity could hear him. "Three of the most important para-stabilizers have apparently gone insane. They've got hold of weapons and are very likely approaching the wall of the Inner Ring. That's where the energy field generators are located."
The relatively few Lemurians who possessed para-abilities comprised an elite on board whose importance no one questioned. Until recently, Cada, Lumena, and Amias had been given excellent care in their clinic rooms.
"I will see to it that they cause no damage," Atubur Nutai said. "Pursue them and bring them back. The use of paralyzing weapons is of course authorized. Your name is known to me, Kalymel; take responsibility for the operation. What is the state of their illness?"
Kalymel pushed Rasturi into the pick-up range of the lens. "You know that better."
"The Gebrest is in the second phase, Naahk." Rasturi spoke with competence and self-confidence. For some two months, she had treated the three half-Leukors with salve, plasters, bandages, and a strength-building Huccar drink whose ingredients the Naahk regularly sent her. "Yesterday they even said that they were free of pain and felt good."
"Strange," replied the Star Seeker. "The unused sectors have been totally sealed off. If they attempt to cross over to another quadrant, it will be detected by the control center. I will inform you if that occurs."
"I'll assemble a team and take up pursuit," Kalymel said. He made a brief salute and turned around as the Naahk broke the connection. "Macaire, Elsey, you're Tenoy, and you, Hollun, and Lieth. We'll meet in the armory. Let's go!"
The five men ran to the central plaza and on to the dark gray weapon storage room. The door stood wide open and the lights were on inside. Two cabinets were opened: the positronic logs showed no signs of any damage.
"They've taken three crossbows with them," Lieth said a few seconds later. "And here, three cases of ammunition. And spotlights."
From outside the armory, a woman called: "When they ran past us in the carbohydrate station, they yelled, 'Death to the Councils! Down with the elite! We'll never land!'"
Kalymel absorbed the news in silence. The Tenoy needed neither uniforms nor helmets—with or without visors; with 250 inhabitants per quadrant, they all knew each other well enough. The uniforms were stacked up unused in their compartments. The fugitives had taken three electromagnetic crossbows with them. Kalymel shook his head as he armed himself with two shock beamers, buckled on a belt with extra magazines, and snapped on a hand-spotlight.
"That really sounds as though they suddenly did go insane—they're elite themselves!"
The dominant genes of earlier generations had made Half-Leukors out of the three para-gifted individuals. Their bodies were strong and normal, flowing crystal-white manes grew from their heads and down their necks, and that they were mutants could be seen only by their skins. They were also blinding white, and every place where their skin stretched tightly over their bones—finger and toe joints, spinal columns, knees, elbows, nose, and cheekbones—looked as though dipped in black paint. When light fell from a specific direction and within a narrow spectral band, the white lit up in the darkness like pure phosphorous. Their heads seemed enlarged in proportion to their bodies, but the Leukors attributed that condition to their increased, highly developed para-ability.
Kalymel passed out com units and helped the men to fasten them to their forearms.
"Ready?"
They nodded and pushed their way to the exit.
Kalymel pointed to the right. "You heard it. To the meat farms!"
"They've already gone past them."
"There's no point in trying to overtake them," Kalymel said after a few steps. "Run as fast as possible, but don't exhaust yourselves."
"Understood, Tenoy."
Kalymel muttered something profane and began to suspect that the decision to land would provoke further incidents of this kind. The strange break-out of the Half-Leukors was only the first. He was certain of it: if electromagnetic crossbows were howling through the interiors of the corridors and rooms just a day after the Naahk's announcement, the problems that followed would be hardly less major.
Crossing through the various colored corridors, compartments, passageways, ramps, stairs, and hydroponic installations helped him put his thoughts in some kind of order. Kalymel had not completely thought through the likely results of the break-out. As he went by a niche from which an eye stared at him from under the hood of the Legendor, the situation had become clearer in his mind.
The inhabitants of his quadrant were distracted by the Star Seeker's announcements. Most had not yet realized what the ultimate consequences of the change in course would be. The immediate danger lay in that the enormous ship's invisibility would be lifted. The LEMCHA OVIR was defenseless and could be discovered by chance since the energy discharge of the 40-day braking procedure would be spectacularly conspicuous even in seemingly empty space. Detecting the Ship would be only too easy.
Soon, when it was in orbit around the planet, it would be plainly visible once more, easy to locate and defenseless. Kalymel's concept of life on a planet was based only on theory and thus relatively unrealistic. Could he and his one thousand companions survive the physical and mental changes from steel hulls to open skies? From the carefully maintained artificial balance on board to a turbulent natural atmosphere?
He took a deep breath and put off grappling with this existential problem in his mind until later.
About a hundred meters further, they trotted under the light of sunlamps through rustling oxygen beds about a third of a meter high. It smelled strongly of the nutrient fluid in which the cell tissues grew. Then, a first, yellow and black painted door blocked any further progress. The numbers behind the clean glass display showed that this doorway had been opened and closed 16.5 minutes before.
Kalymel waited impatiently while the three sections of the door slid to the sides and upwards. He was certain that while the performance of the capture field had not been impaired by the incident, stabilization of the neutrinos and the para-mental loading of the protective field were not reaching their full capacity. The concentrated pair-annihilation of the neutrinos and anti-neutrinos was lacking the energy urgently needed for deceleration.
The emergency situation on board had existed for two centuries, so there had been no conflict among the Naahk, the Councils, and the Lemcharoys. The community, shrunk to a tenth of its former size, worked together with little conflict. The reactors, projectors, and all systems in the circular section that contributed to the functioning of the capture field were everyone's first priority.
The doo
r was open. Macaire leaped through and switched on the lighting. The renegades were heading up-gravity. To the right and left, energy-saving lights came on and the air smelled stale, of rust and cold dampness, of "Ship's sweat." Only four doors lined the next section of the corridor, but none of them had been opened by the Half-Leukors.
Behind the next opening, the path widened into a light gray-yellow connecting shaft full of steps and ramps that led to open and closed branching passages. A further three decks up were sectors filled with the capture field machinery. In the center, the framework of the heavy freight elevator connected the decks; the elevator was no longer in use and the lift platform rested at the lowest level. The group gathered in front of the bottommost steps.
"If they really want to reach the capture field generators, they have to climb all the way up in their out-of-shape condition," Hollun said.
"I'm afraid we'll have to go there ourselves," Kalymel replied, and thought of the day when the elevators had been turned off. It had been a long time ago, during his first years of life. "Onward, friends!"
As the LEMCHA OVIR continued its deceleration, the control center computer began to access data that had been stored in now full memory units that had been in continual use since the voyage began. After a brief computation, a huge vidscreen in the control center flared into life; its harsh glow waking Atubur Nutai from his light, uneasy sleep. Uncomprehending, he looked at the words and symbols that slowly formed on the screen; only gradually did understanding come.
He stood up, emptied the cup of circulation-stimulating Huccar that had grown cold, and silently read the first message from the computer. The forward vidscreen showed a large section of the star system and the planet Mentack Nutai; the Net punched letters and words across the image:
"The sum total of parameters confirm that the Ship is decelerating and is on a course towards an identifiable star system. An analysis of the calculations suggests that their is a high degree of risk involved in the present course of action. The Network has concluded that in all probability it is much too dangerous to interrupt the journey and deploy the landing shuttles."
The Naahk ignored the warning. He had long discussed this possibility with the Council. The computers would issue warnings and endlessly cite prohibitions, but they could not intervene. It would be wise to not pass the warnings on uncensored so as to prevent the inhabitants of the Ship from becoming uneasy.
"There is no plan to land on the planet," Nutai said out loud. "There is no point in repeating the warnings. All associated problems have been solved and rendered insignificant. We are decelerating for the purpose of gathering information. It will allow us to better judge the chances of survival on a possible destination planet. This star system offers a rich yield of data. On the other side of the orbit of the eleventh planet, which has not yet even been given a provisional code name, I will accelerate the LEMCHA OVIR once more."
The Network answered after a long pause. It had not answered immediately for more than twenty years. The letters and symbols of the graphic display changed within a few seconds. Atubur's relief increased as he read:
"No stopover. No landing. Yet it is to be observed that the number of inhabitants is considerably smaller than it was at departure and during the first years of they voyage. All means must be employed, not only to hold the population at a stable number but to increase it. This warning is based on logic: only with a sufficient number of capable individuals is survival possible during an intermediate landing. This dialogue between the Commander and the Network has been recorded and archived."
"Recorded and archived," the Naahk repeated in a low voice. "I hate lies of this kind. But it's inconceivable that ... " He went silent. It was entirely conceivable that the computer would issue a barrage of warnings, alarms, and system activations once the Ship was on a landing approach. The members of the Council and some selected old Tenarchs had disconnected hundreds of sensors over the years; the computer interpreted the broken connections as deterioration due to age or as data rot. and the decision had been made—their destiny would be fulfilled on Mentack Nutai.
"There is no turning back," Nutai murmured and mixed himself a fresh Huccar drink. It was now several days since he had decided to land the OVIR, but only now did he finally feel free. Which each swallow, new energy flowed into his body. The computer switched off the communication screen and the room sank back into semi-darkness.
Nutai sat down at his desk, turned on the monitors, and worked for several hours on the incoming hyperdetection data from the planetary system. He waited in vain for an emergency call from the pursuers of the Half-Leukors.
Then, with a suddenness that almost frightened him, he thought of Chibis-Nydele. And it occurred to him that clearly definable connections existed between some of the Network's linked computers' peripheral devices and the Lemurians whose para-abilities had not mutated away. Had one of them been the source of the triggering impulse that made the three Muties go berserk? Why he doubted he could solve this riddle, he did not know himself.
He left the command bridge with its arched deck crammed with instruments, indicator lights, and control switches. He entered the elevator cabin, and rose for five seconds to his private quarters. Even at the entrance he felt the radiance of another world. The light was amber-colored; the air was fragrant with flowers and Chibis-Nydele's unmistakable skin balm; and everything was overlaid with soft music and the aroma of the strongly fermented and enriched mineral plant juice that Chibis euphemistically called Lemurian Wine.
She sensed him before she saw him. Wearing a semi-transparent robe that reached to the floor, she came out of the sleeping area and laid her hands on his shoulders.
"You have more faith in the Ship and the Network than you do in me," she said, smiling. "Otherwise, you wouldn't leave your quarters, your familiar home."
"Not the Network—everything's been said and done," he said quietly and gave the image on the wall of the connecting corridor a long look. It showed the hand of a painter and his brush, which was painting a portrait of a sculptor, who in turn was using a laser chisel to carve a black sculpture out of a round block of obsidian-colored artificial stone. It depicted a being with pillar-like legs, with four arms bulging with muscle and a hemispherical head with three redly glowing eyes and a widely gaping mouth. The picture and its message reminded Atubur Nutai of dialogues in the half-dreams that he believed he'd had in the distant past. "Now it's running almost without me having to do anything. Forty-two days from now, the shuttles will land on the planet."
"On Mentack Nutai, the destiny of us all."
Chibis-Nydele's fingers played invitingly with the glowing, red ornamental casing that held his cell activator. The weak energy field pulsed in a slow rhythm. Nutai read in her expression what she thought: No reason to worry, since the frequency would not increase for another seven years.
"I have already lived for such a long time," Nutai said. "My destiny will be fulfilled either on the approach to the fifth planet or on that unknown world itself. However it may be. Either way."
He stroked the tiny scales on the crest that ran along the top of her head from her lower forehead to her neck; they seemed to smolder in the amber-colored light.
"I have never questioned any of your decisions."
"No. Not even during the last change of generations."
"I don't even know the secret of that strange device and your seeming immortality."
Nydele had experienced only one of his personality changes. After twenty years as Commander, he had vanished without a trace. A short time later, he reappeared and found Chibis-Nydele who had waited in his cabin. Beautiful, devoted, and silent, she again belonged only to him; he seemed like a younger brother of the old Naahk. From time to time it struck Nutai that her loyalty was more to the Ship than its Commanders. She believed that only the Ringship's journey mattered, and she had matured at the side of the new Commander, who was rejuvenated (or perhaps raised in secret by the Ship) every twenty year
s.
"At some point there will no longer be any secrets." Nutai put his arm around Chibis-Nydele's waist and pulled her into the twilight of the sleeping room. "Before I work out the landing approach, we still have a little time for ourselves."
If she was surprised, she did not let him see it. She melted against him and in the last few steps undid the fastenings at her shoulder. Her gown slid almost silently over the breasts and thighs of her nearly perfect body. Only the ornamental embroidery of the seams rustled slightly. Nutai thought of nothing else, only of her unconditional, passionate devotion and the comfort that her presence gave him.
The hunt dragged on. Minutes stretched to hours. Bathed in sweat, Macaire, Kalymel, and Hollun reached the next to last landing of the shaft where the corridors on the various decks intersected. Lieth and Elsey were still fifty steps below. Traces of the three sick Muties had led them to this point. Footprints in the dust, drops of blood, shreds of their bandages, an empty crossbow bolt magazine.
During the design and construction of the Ship, the builders had intentionally used different metals and alloys. Under the influence of varying temperatures and atmospheric compositions, the material developed a layer of surface rust. And so over the course of many years, each alloy had changed its surface coloration. The outer surfaces of the steel ring had turned black shortly after setting out and thus made the gigantic Ship into an object camouflaged by the darkness between the stars.
Kalymel and his men stood between orange and light-gray walls among green deck-support beams. Amias, Cada, and Lumena had made their break without much of a plan; they were apparently unaware of the simplest way to the machines and transformers on the uppermost deck.
Kalymel blinked droplets of sweat from his eyes. "Well—they may be deathly ill, but they've gotten rather far even so."
"And through the sectors that are largest and hardest to cross!"
"They must be afraid of something that they've imagined," Lieth called, clutching the railing and breathing hard.
