by K. H. Scheer
Regardless of whether or not they had passed, the Hertasoes present maintained a drilled-in discipline. They had stiffly taken their seats in the same hard folding chairs where they had sat during their lecture sessions. I was certain there was not one of the 335-surviving aspirants who knew whether or not he had achieved his honours—with the exception of myself.
However, the favour Tormanac had bestowed upon me was a questionable advantage. Each Arkonide present here knew who he was, where he had come from and who his parents were. I had no idea of these things!I felt the light pressure of the strange weapon on my left forearm. My hand movements must have betrayed to Tirako something of my inner turmoil and he had taken notice. I had to control myself better. There was no point in feeling my arm all the time. Under no circumstances could I let anyone see the deadly weapon—not even friends who knew about it.
Above us on other antigrav platforms the parents of the candidates sat in loges. They were watching the annual ceremony as attentively as the aspirants. All of them desired secure futures for their sons in important government positions but in the next few minutes how many of their hopes would probably be shattered?
The absolute self-control demonstrated by all of these Arkonides was distressing to me. They made an outward show of complete calm. They would no doubt take the announcement of their sons’ failures with the same equanimity. What their real feelings might be one would only be able to guess. Why didn’t these influential high-and-mighties look for the failure within their own burning pride? Why did a young man like Tirako have to look death in the eye, only to end with failure? Those who had raised him were surely intelligent enough to have perceived his weaknesses long ago. So they had merely entered him in the race for the Ark Summia so they could say, at least, that he had been in the running. I knew very well what Tirako thought about the whole thing. He was not inspired.
With the exception of myself he was probably the only Arkonide in this hall who had looked forward to the opening of the Inner Circle ceremonies with a sense of resignation.
The names of the candidates appeared in rapid succession on a fluorescent announcement panel. As a part of tradition the comportment of the Hertasoes during their tests was evaluated and given various ratings. And therewith began the great lie. We sat there for hours and listened to the extensive panegyrics. Crass failures were patronizingly excused. It became clear to me why the founders of the Ark Summia had insisted upon point scoring by robots exclusively. If they had left the judging to Arkonides the whole thing would have degenerated into an endless game of manipulation.
I was becoming increasingly impatient. I noted that the floating cameras of the Arkonide TV system had pulled my face into close-up more than once. I couldn’t forget Fratulon’s warning. Unconsciously I felt the Luccot sling again. I felt Tirako’s hand touch my leg and I looked at him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
Then I controlled myself again. Finally my name appeared on the lighted panel and held there. From now on it would be extremely dangerous. If well-informed observers had not seen Macolon in a long while, now they would have their chance.Next to my name I could read the rapid spell-out of additional information: “Macolon, son of the honourable Tanictrop, former commander of heavy cruiser Argosso, on leave from Fleet service for Ark Summia candidacy examination…”
In obedience to regulations, I stood up. Two cameras glided toward me. I knew I must be visible now on a few 100 billion viewscreens. Since the broadcast transmission was over hypercom networks, reception occurred everywhere with no time delay, so in this same moment the viewers on more than 2000 colonized worlds were witnessing this event.
I heard my name called in solemn and formal tones: “Hertaso Macolon, step forward!”
At this moment the Ark Summia I had won seemed to be inconsequential. I could only think of the dangers it involved. How often in my life had I been pursued and hounded, without even knowing why! At present this unjust pursuit appeared to come into extreme focus. I walked down the long rows of seats like an automaton. Now in the loges I perceived the first stirrings of the onlookers. They must have guessed that the first of the candidates had been called who would be given the “completed” rating.
I went through the ensuing ceremonies as one in a trance. I was handed an antique-looking, specially prepared document on which my merits and awards had been inscribed. What had I done, actually, to justify the activation of my extra-brain? I had gone through some physical exertions, done some logical thinking and taken some potshots when it had been necessary. Wasn’t a young man like Tirako Gamno to be classified 10 times over me?
I turned my head imploringly and saw him. He waved at me but today that could be excused. Normally such comportment would have been looked upon reprovingly.
I regained my inner composure. Patiently I endured the speech the chairman was delivering…
“…. not only did you make the required number of points on your first test, Hertaso Macolon, but also in the two succeeding tests you again achieved the highest possible scoring. Allow us to express to you and your honourable father the highest recognition the Inner Circle is capable of. Since you are the Hertaso with the most outstanding record of attainment, we have decided to transfer you with top priority to the authorities of the Parapsychic Activation Clinic. We congratulate you in the name of the Arkonide race and his Omniscient Eminence, Orbanashol III of Arkon. We wish you luck and success in your continued career, which shall be dedicated to the Greater Imperium. Please be seated facing the Inner Circle.”
I sat down in one of the seats of honour. They were placed in a forward position on the platform, arranged in a half-circle for the reception of candidates who had proved themselves worthy of the ultimate award.
After me there were 8 more candidates who were called forward. This meant that only 9 of us had passed out of the original 342 final contenders. It was a depressing total! Once more I turned to look at Tirako. He laughed cheerfully. He did not begrudge me the forthcoming activation.I went through the balance of the ceremonies in a state of fear and uncertainty. Naturally the floating TV cameras ceaselessly pursued the Hertasoes who had been publicly announced as winners of the activation. Apparently Fratulon had foreseen how painful this moment would be for me. Painful? I doubted that was the proper description for it.
9/ AWAKENING AT CRISIS
It was 6 PM, planetary time, Largamenia. It was the year 10497, Arkon time— for me a year of destiny.During the Ark Summia ceremonies, Tirako Gamno had not failed to detect the presence of the Luccot sling, so I had concocted what seemed to me a fairly logical explanation for it. I had told him something to the effect that my family had certain bitter enemies and also that a few crewmembers of the old Argosso had sworn vengeance against me. Or at least I said I assumed as much. Nor did I neglect to remind him of a few things he had been suspicious about himself— such as the 2nd Officer of the cruiser Argosso. In other words: Tschetrum.
Tirako had listened patiently to my explanations but he had not accepted them! In the end he merely smiled at me and asked me how he might be of help.
His parents had ordered him home from Largamenia and he was to have left within several days. For his own part he could have departed any time but he had been able to convince his father that his trusted friend—meaning myself— needed him for awhile. His father had accepted this but probably only because the worthy Teftenik Gamno had gotten the notion that it wouldn’t harm his son at all to be in the company of an Ark Summia graduate.
“Try that thing again,” Tirako challenged me.
I was wearing the sweeping white robes which had been traditional apparel for thousands of years for those who were to receive the brain activation. They freed the body of undesirable restrictions. I lifted my left arm and was about to touch the triggering button on my thumb ball with the tips of my fingers.
“Stop—not that way!” he commanded me. “You’re more dexterous than that! Are you paralysed or something? Don’t raise
your arm like you’re waving goodbye. You have to jerk it up in a flash and hit the trigger at the same time. The raybeam has to strike at the moment your hand points to the target.”
I tried it again. Of course I had the safety catch secured.
“OK, that’s a lot better,” he said. “Now once more, please.”
This time my hand did flash upward quickly. My imaginary target was a flower bowl on the mess table at the rear of our common living room. Apparently I would have hit the mark in a real situation.
“Good,” said Tirako approvingly. “Now all we can do is hope that you really do run into your big bad enemies.”
He laughed softly. I figured I had been a fool. How had I ever gotten the idea that I could deceive this sharp young fellow? He looked at me questioningly.For a moment I was tempted to tell him the whole truth as far as I knew it. But then I thought better of it. “Just give me a few more hours, Tirako—only until they’ve released me from the parapsychic activation clinic.”
“I’ve guessed what’s going on,” he told me calmly. “You can depend on me, friend. But there is one question yet. If you can’t or don’t want to answer it, I won’t hold it against you. May I speak?”
I nodded.
“What can I do for you if the things you’re worrying about come to a head during the activation process? Normally, the process takes about 4 to 5 hours…”
He had grasped exactly what I was concerned with. It unnerved me somewhat. “Since you’ll be wearing your regular uniform you’ll be able to carry a weapon. Be my bodyguard. If anybody tries to kill me when I’m lying under the activating hood, then you…”
I stopped, suddenly aware of the enormity of my request.
“Yes? Continue,” he said calmly. “Tell me more, friend. Or did you think I really believed your story? A great mystery or secret surrounds you. It is apparently of a greater magnitude than you yourself suspect.”
I began to talk then, although I was violating Fratulon’s orders and going against my own intentions. In about 10 minutes Tirako Gamno learned who I was, or more to the point, who I was not. He became aware of my caries and worries, the mental and emotional dilemma—all the things I’d been concerned with for years. I even told him about Farnathia.
When I had finished I felt like a hollowed-out wreck.
He looked at me for awhile in silence before he finally spoke. “It’s not all that bad,” he said soothingly. “You’ll also pull through these last vital hours of your processing. Now is no time to despair. This girl Farnathia, who is so close to your heart—we’ll find her one day.”
“We?”
He nodded. “Yes, we. If you will allow me to, I shall remain at your side. Perhaps you need me. But now you have to get with it. The High Commission will be waiting for you. I’ll go along as your special aide and honour guard.” He turned and went into his bedroom, returning in a few moments with his service weapon.
I hesitated, regretting my open confession. Had I told him too much? But he perceived my inner conflict and his reassuring smile helped to appease my sudden doubts. I opened the door of our quarters and found two robots waiting.
They were both special android types wearing magnificent uniforms. As a part of the tradition of the occasion, they were to be my escorts.
I introduced my friend to them. “Tirako Gamno, special aide and honour guard.”The robots marched forward, leading the way. I followed. Close behind me was Tirako. Beyond the block of dormitories we entered an air glider. It transported us to the imposing building that we had often regarded in hopeful wonderment during our student days. This was the mystery-enshrouded Parapsychic Activation Clinic, one of the most heavily guarded and security-isolated installations of the Greater Imperium.
The personnel carrier landed. A second robot escort detail met us at that point and led us through the first “lock” in the system of high-tension energy screens surrounding the place. It was necessary to also pass through a screen aperture in the second defence dome. There were no entrance locks for aircraft.
We arrived at the tube-like identification chamber. Here, in addition to a robot-brain type of computer, a battery of defence weapons had been installed. At this checkpoint only those persons were admitted who could present full authorization for proceeding onward. The identification procedure was painstakingly long and involved. But finally we passed through and found ourselves looking at the extensive and ancient building complex of the Activation Clinic.
Here the Greater Imperium’s greatest experts in the “para”-sciences carried on their work and researches. The Empire had invested tremendous sums in this institution in order to advance the so-called Science of Duality. These areas of parapsychology and paraphysics came under the highest security classification for the Military, since it was known that the Maahks were also pursuing research in this direction.
An honour guard had appeared, consisting of tall special troops from a space-landing commando unit. I was greeted officially but the commanding officer could not refrain from looking repeatedly at the ID badge that the robot brain had issued to me. Although Tirako had also received a clearance badge he was carefully scrutinized.
It was only then that we were finally allowed to pass into the Clinic itself. I again considered the situation. Admiral Tormanac had arranged to give me precedence as the first of the Ark Summia recipients. I knew that the instruments and equipment to be used for activating the “logic sector” of the brain were not arranged here in multiple sets for mass processing. There was only one setup, which was capable of handling one candidate at a time. In fact it was the same on the other four test planets where this same honour could be achieved. But what it meant for me was the possibility of gaining considerable time. If I had been forced to wait around all day for my turn at the processing, my chances for being activated would have been narrowed down.
My high score had given Tormanac a fully plausible reason for placing me first on the schedule. Which was of course customary. The student who had excelled the most outstandingly was always processed first. So I had a good chance to come through, provided that my assumed identity was not discovered sooner than expected. However, should that occur, or if it had happened already, I could expect the sudden appearance of the Emperor’s heavily armed secret police. In that case the Kralasene pursuit commandos under Sofgart the Blind would not take long to arrive on the scene.
We were led into an extensive foyer. Here the full membership of the Inner Circle was on hand. I took an unobtrusive look around and suddenly suppressed an angry oath. The TV cameras were present again, floating in their antigrav force fields. Naturally, Tormanac had not been able to suddenly cancel the direct broadcast that was expected by billions of viewers. He had to tolerate the presence of the reporters.I suffered impatiently through the reception address that was delivered in my honour. Finally the prescribed, well-phrased words pertaining to my future obligations were spoken again. Everything was taking too long. Tormanac knew it as well as I did but there was nothing to be done about it. At long last, the closing ceremonial question was stated:
“Are you prepared, Hertaso Macolon, to receive the high honour of the Ark Summia and to place at the disposal of the Greater Imperium and His Omniscient Eminence, Imperator Orbanashol III, the advantages and prerogatives there unto pertaining?”
I responded with the prescribed formula: “My life for Arkon, Your Excellence!”
With that I had surmounted the last formalities. Now came the practical application. I noted Tormanac’s searching glance at Tirako Gamno. An officer of the guard commandos instructed Tirako concerning his duties as honour guard and special aide to me. Accordingly, as an observer of the activation procedures, Tirako was to raise an objection at the first sign of anything that appeared to be wrong. Also he had to be responsible for my physical wellbeing and see that I lacked nothing I needed.
It was a matter of course for the Ark Summia recipients to consign such tasks to their most trusted friends. Tirako was
unhesitatingly accepted. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Tormanac accompanied me through several antechambers. We came to a stop before a meter-thick security door made of Arkon steel which was additionally secured by two deadly energy screens. Here he had a chance to whisper a few words to me: “Be careful! We’ve picked up a few clues indicating that you’ve been recognized as an impostor. We’ve already taken two crewmembers of the Argosso into protective custody but according to them there are also other witnesses who could confirm Macolon’s death. Among them, is a hypercom operator who was in contact with Macolon up to the last minute. He can’t be located. Release the safety on your weapon.”
This threw me into a state of alarm. The things we had feared were now emerging. “Let Tirako know—I’ve told him everything. I had no choice!” I whispered back quickly.
With that our brief exchange was ended. Scientists in white uniforms appeared. They activated the security screens and opened the armour-plated door. Beyond it I saw another antechamber that was equipped with automatically functioning defence weapons. A giant viewscreen revealed the chamber lying beyond it. It was there that the activation equipment had been installed.After we were led into the activation area, Tirako took up his post behind a transparent screen that could shield him from radiation. From that point he could observe everything that was going on. Once I had been placed on the wide couch, Admiral Tormanac and the members of the Inner Circle departed. Tirako was the last man in the large room who was informed about me and the impending dangers.
My head was held in position by wide clamps while over me hovered a metal hood. The latter tapered inwardly to a conical opening which gave access to the power cables. I was not to move, nor could I. My cranium had to remain precisely in the position in which the scientists had placed it. All I knew was that a sharply focussed light-beam marked the sector where the radiations were to have their effect.
