The World of Tiers, Volume 1

by Philip José Farmer

  He said to Anana, “There are any number of boats equipped with these chambers. Sometimes the captains know about them; sometimes they don’t.”

  He pointed at the man. “We’ll question him later.” He tied the man’s ankles and turned him. over to bind his hands behind him. Then, though he wanted to lie down and sleep, he went back into the water. He came up near the anchor chain and it climbed it. His prowlings on the galley revealed no watchmen, and he got a good idea of the construction of the ship. Moreover, he found some sticks of dried meat and biscuits wrapped in waterproof intestines. There were no eagles in sight, and the patrol boat had drifted so far away that he could not see bodies—if there were any—in it.

  When he returned to the chamber, he found the man conscious.

  Petotoc said that he was hiding there because he was wanted by the police—he would not say what the charge was. He did not know about the invasion. It was evident that he did not believe Kickaha’s story.

  Kickaha spoke to the woman. “We must have been seen by enough people so that the search for us in the city will be off. They’ll be looking for us in the old city, the farms, the countryside, and they’ll be searching every boat, too. Then, when they can’t find us, they may let normal life resume. And this boat may set out for wherever it’s going.”

  Kickaha asked Petotoc where he could get enough food to last the three of them for a month. Anana’s eyes opened, and she said, “Live a month in this damp, stinking hole?”

  “If you want to live at all,” Kickaha said. “I sincerely hope we won’t be here that long, but I like to have reserves for an emergency.”

  “I’ll go mad,” she said.

  “How old are you”? he said. “About ten thousand, at least, right? And you haven’t learned the proper mental attitudes to get through situations like this in all that time?”

  “I never expected to be in such a situation,” she snarled.

  Kickaha smiled. “Something new after ten millennia, huh? You should be happy to be free of boredom.”

  Unexpectedly, she laughed. She said, “I am tired and edgy. But you are right. It is better to be scared to death than to be bored to death. And what has happened …”

  She spread her palms out to indicate speechlessness.

  Kickaha, acting on Petotoc’s information, went topside again. He lowered a small boat, rowed ashore, and broke into a small warehouse. He filled the boat with food and rowed back to the ship. Here he tied the rowboat to the anchor and then swam under to get Anana. The many dives and swims, hampered by carrying food in nets, wore them out even more. By the end of their labors, they were so tired they could barely pull themselves up onto the shelf in the chamber. Kickaha let the rowboat loose so it could drift away, and then he made his final dive.

  Shaking with cold and exhaustion, he wanted desperately to sleep, but he did not dare leave the smuggler unguarded. Anana suggested that they solve that problem by killing Petotoc. The prisoner was listening, but he did not understand, since they were talking in the speech of the Lords. He did see her draw her finger across her throat though, and then he knew what they were discussing. He turned pale under his dark pigment.

  “I won’t do that unless it’s necessary,” Kickaha said. “Besides, even if he’s dead, we still have to keep a guard. What if other smugglers come in? We can’t be caught sleeping. Clatatol and her bunch were able to resist the temptation of the reward—although I’m not sure they could have held out much longer—but others may not be so noble.”

  He took first watch and only kept awake by dipping water and throwing it in his face, by talking to Petotoc, by pacing savagely back and forth on the shelf. When he thought two hours had passed, he roused her with slaps and water. After getting her promise that she would not succumb to sleep, he closed his eyes. This happened twice more, and then he was awakened the third time, But now he was not to stand guard.

  She had placed her hand over his mouth and was whispering into his ear. “Be quiet! You were snoring! There are men aboard.”

  He lay for along while listening to the thumps of feet, the shouts and talking, the banging and knocking as cargo was moved about and bulkheads and decks were knocked on to check for hollow compartments.

  After 1,200 seconds, each of which Kickaha had silently counted off, the search party moved on. Again, he and Anana tried to overtake their lost sleep in turns.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When the time came that they both felt refreshed enough to stay awake at the same time, he asked her how she had gotten into this situation.

  “The Black Bellers,” she said. She held up her right hand. A ring with a deep black metal band and a large dark-green jewel was on the middle finger.

  “I gave the smugglers all my jewels except this,” she said. “I refused to part with that” I said I’d have to be killed first. For a moment, I thought they would kill me for it.

  Let me see, how to begin? The Black Bellers were originally an artificial form of life created by the Lord scientists about ten thousand years ago. The scientists created the Bellers during their quest for a true immortality.

  “A Beller is bell-shaped, black, of indestructible material. Even if one were attached to a hydrogen bomb, the Beller would survive the fission. Or a Beller could be shot into the heart of a star, and it would go unscathed for a billion years.

  “Now, the scientists had originally constructed the Beller so that it was purely automatic. It had no mind of its own; it was a device only. When placed on a man’s head, it detected the man’s skin potential and automatically extruded two extremely thin but rigid needles. These bored through the skull and into the brain.

  “Through the needles, the Beller could discharge the contents of a man’s mind, that is, it could uncoil the chains of giant protein molecules composing memory. And it could dissociate the complex neural patterns of the conscious and unconscious mind.”

  “What could be the purpose of that?” Kickaha said. “Why would a Lord want his brain unscrambled, that is, discharged? Wouldn’t he be a blank, a tabula rasa, then?”

  “Yes, but you don’t understand. The discharged and uncoiled mind belonged to a human subject of the Lords. A slave.”

  Kickaha wasn’t easily shocked, but he was startled and sickened now. “What? But …”

  Anana said earnestly, “This was necessary. The slave would die someday anyway, so what’s the difference? But a Lord could live even if his body was mortally hurt.”

  She did not explain that the scientific techniques of the Lords enabled them to live for millennia, perhaps millions of years, if no accidents, homicide, or suicide occurred. Kickaha, of course, knew this. The agelessness was, to a slighter degree, prevalent for human beings throughout this, Wolff’s universe. The waters of this world contained substances provided by Wolff which kept human beings from aging for approximately a thousand years. It also cut down on fertility, so that there was no increase in the birth rate.

  The Bellers were to provide a means whereby the mental contents of a Lord could be transferred to the brain of a host. Thus, the Lord could live on in a new body while the old one died of its wounds.

  The Beller was constructed so that the mental contents of the Lord could be stored for a very long time indeed if an emergency demanded this. The Beller contaned a powerpack for operation of the stored mind if this was desired. Moreover, the Beller automatically drew on the neural energy of the host to charge the powerpack. The uncoiling and dematricising were actually the Beller’s methods of scanning the mind and then recording it within the bell structure. Duplicating the mind, as it were. The duplication resulted in stripping the original brain, in leaving it blank.

  “I’m repeating,” she said, “but only to make sure you understand me.”

  “I follow you,” he said. “But this stripping, dematricising, scanning, and duplication doesn’t seem to me to be a true immortality. It’s not like pouring the mental contents of one head into another. It’s not a genuine brain trans
ference. It consists, in reality, of recording cerebral complexes, forebrain and, I suppose, hindbrain, too, to get the entire mind—or don’t Bellers have unconsciousnesses?—while destroying them. And then running off the records > da tapes, if you will—to build an identical brain in a different container.

  “The brain of the second party, however, is not the brain of the first party. In reality, the first party is dead. And though the second party thinks that it is the first party, because it has the brain complex of the first party, it is only a duplication.”

  “A baby speaks the wisdom of the ages,” she said. “That would be true if there were no such thing as the psyche, or the soul, as you humans call it. But the Lords had indubitable proof that an extra-spatial, extra-temporal entity, coeval with every sentient being, exists. Even you humans have them. These duplicate the mental content of the body or soma. Rather, they reflect the psyche-soma, or perhaps it’s vice versa.

  “Anyway, the psyche is the other half of the real-person. And when the duplicate somabrain is built up in the Beller, the psyche, or soul, transfers to the Beller. And when the Beller retransfers the mental contents to the new host, the psyche then goes to the new host.”

  Kickaha said, “You have proof of this psyche? Photographs? Sensory indications? And so on?”

  “I’ve never seen any,” she said. “Or known anyone who had seen the proofs. But we have been assured that the proofs existed at one time.”

  “Fine,” he said with a sarcasm that she may or may not have detected. “So then?”

  “The experiment took over fifty years, I believe, before the Bellers were one hundred percent safe and perfectly operational. Most of the research was done on human slaves, who often died or became idiots.”

  “In the name of science!”

  “In the name of the Lords,” she said. “In the name of immortality for the Lords. But the human subjects, and later the Lords who became subjects, reported an almost unendurable feeling of detachment from reality, an agony of separation, while their brains were housed in the Bellers. You see, the brains did have some perception of the world outside if the needle-antennae were extruded. But this perception was very limited.

  “To overcome the isolation and panic, the perceptive powers of the antennae were improved. Sound, odor, and a limited sense of vision were made available through the antennae.”

  Kickaha said, “These Black Bellers are former Lords?”

  “No! The scientists accidentally discovered that an unused bell had the potentialities for developing into an entity. That is, an unused bell was a baby Beller. And if it were talked to, played with, taught to speak, to identify, to develop its embryonic personality—well, it became, not a thing, a mechanical device, but a person. A rather alien, peculiar person, but still a person.”

  “In other words,” he said, “The framework for housing a human brain could become a brain in its own right?”

  “Yes. The scientists became fascinated. They made a separate project out of raising Bellers. They found that a Beller could become as complex and as intelligent as an adult Lord. Meanwhile, the original project was abandoned, although undeveloped Bellers were to be used as receptacles for storing excess memories of Lords.”

  Kickaha said, “I think I know what happened.”

  “No one knows what really happened.” There were ten thousand fully adult Bellers in the project and a number of baby Bellers. Somehow, a Beller managed to get its needle-antennae into the skull of a Lord. It unCoiled and dematricised the Lord’s brain and then transferred itself into the host’s brain. Thereafter, one by one, the other Lords in the project were taken over.

  Kickaha had guessed correctly. The Lords had created their own Frankenstein monsters.

  “At that time, my ancestors were creating their private custom-made universes,” she said. “They were indeed Lords—gods if there ever were any.” The home universe, of course, continued to be the base for the stock population.

  “Many of the Bellers in the hosts’ bodies managed to get out of the home universe and into the private universes. By the time that the truth was discovered, it was impossible to know who had or had not been taken over, there had been so many transfers. Almost ten thousand Lords had been, as it was termed, “belled.”

  “The War of the Black Bellers lasted two hundred years. I was born during this time. By then, most of the Lord scientists and technicians had been killed. Over half the laymen population was also dead. The home universe was ravaged. This was the beginning of the end of science and progress and the beginning of the solipsism of the Lords. The survivors had much power and the devices and machines in their control. But the understanding of the principles behind the power and the machines was lost.

  “Of the ten thousand Bellers, all but fifty were accounted for. The 9,950 were placed inside a universe specially created for them. This was triple-walled so that nobody could ever get in or out.”

  “And the missing fifty?”

  “Never found. From then on, the Lords lived in suspicion, on the verge of panic. Yet, there was no evidence that any Lords were belled. In time, though the panic faded, the missing fifty were not forgotten.”

  She held up her right hand. “See this ring? It can detect the bell-housing of a Black Beller when it comes within twenty feet. It can’t detect a Beller who’s housed in a host-body, of course. But the Bellers don’t like to be too far from the bells. If anything should happen to the host-body, a Beller wants to be able to transfer his mind back into the bell before the body dies.

  “The ring, detecting the bell, triggers an alarm device implanted in the brain of the Lord. This alarm stimulates certain areas of the neural system so that the Lord hears the tolling of a bell. Now, to my knowledge, the tolling of the alarm bell has not sounded for a little less than ten thousand years. But it sounded for three of us not two weeks ago. And we knew that the ancient horror was loose.”

  “The fifty are now accounted for?” he said.

  “Not all fifty. At least, I’ve seen only a few,” she replied. “I think what happened is that all fifty must have been cached together in some universe. They lay in suspended animation for ten millennia. Then some human, some leeb She stopped on seeing his expression and then continued, “Some human stumbled across the cache. He was curious and put one of the bell shapes on his head. And the Beller automatically extruded the needle-antennae. At the same time, the Beller awoke from his ten thousand year sleep. It anesthetized the human through his skin so that he wouldn’t struggle, bored into the skull and brain, discharged the human neural configuration and memories, and then transferred itself into the brain. After that, the humanBeller found hosts for the remaining fortynine. Then the fifty set out on their swift and silent campaign.”

  There was no telling how many universes the Bellers had taken nor how many Lords they had slain or possessed. They had been unlucky with three: Nimstowl, Judubra, and Anana. She and Nimstowl had managed to inform Judubra of the situation, and he had permitted them to take refuge in his universe. Only the Black Bellers could have made a Lord forget his perpetual war against every other Lord. Judubra was resetting his defenses when the enemy burst through. All three Lords had been forced to gate through to Wolff’s palace in this universe.

  They had chosen his palace because they had heard that he was now soft and weak; he would not try to kill them if they were friendly. But the palace seemed to be vacant except for the taloses, the half-metal, half-protein machines that were servants and guards for Wolff and Chryseis.

  “Wolff gone?” Kickaha said. “Chryseis, too? Where?”

  “I do not know,” Anana said. “We had little time to investigate. We were forced to gate out of the control room without knowing where we were going. We came out in the Temple of Ollimaml, from which we fled into the city of Talanac. We were fortunate to run into Clatatol and her gang. Not four days later, the Drachelanders invaded Talanac. I don’t know how the Black Bellers managed to possess von Turbat, von Swindeba
rn, and the others.”

  “They gated through to Dracheland,” he said, “and they took over the two kings without the kings’ subjects knowing it, of course. They probably didn’t know that I was in Talanac, but they must have known about me, I suppose, from films and recordings in the palace. They came here after you Lords but heard that I was here also and so came after me.”

  “Why would they want you?”

  “Because I know a lot about the secret gates and traps in the palace. For one thing, they won’t be able to get into Wolff’s armory unless they know the pattern of code-breaking. That’s why they wanted me alive. For the information I had.”

  She asked, “Are there any aircraft in the palace?”

  “Wolff never had any.”

  “I think the Bellers will be bringing in some from my world. But they’ll have to dismantle them to get them through the narrow gates in the palace. Then they’ll have to put them together again. But when the humans see the aircraft, the Bellers will have to do some explaining.”

  “They can tell the people they’re magical vessels,” Kickaha said.

  Kickaha wished he had the Horn of Shambarimen, or of Ilmarwolkin, as it was sometimes called. When the proper sequence of notes was blown from it at a resonant point in any universe, that point became a gate between two universes. The Horn could also be used to gate between various points on this planet. All that business of matching crescents of gates could be bypassed. But Anana had not seen the Horn. Probably Wolff had taken it with him, wherever he had gone.

  The days and nights that followed were uncomfortable. They paced back and forth to exercise and also let Petotoc stretch his muscles while Kickaha held a rope tied around Petotoc’s neck. They slept jerkily. Though they had agreed not to burn the lamp much, because they wanted to save fuel, they kept it lit a good part of the time.

  The third day, many men came aboard. The anchor was hauled and the boat was, apparently, rowed into dock. Sounds of cargo being loaded filtered through the wooden bulkheads and decks. These lasted for forty-eight hours without ceasing. Then the boat left the dock, and the oarsmen went to work. The hammer of the pacer, the creak of locks, the dip and whish of oars went or for a long time.