Enemies of the System

by Brian W Aldiss

  Takeido immediately flung his arms about Rubyna Constanza.

  “Dearest Rubyna, how I have longed to hold you! Tell me you understand what I was saying when I made those mad speeches.”

  “I am not a fool. I understand, Ian Takeido. You hate everything we believe best.”

  “You do not condemn me?” He drew back from her.

  “When we express our own opinions, we must inevitably suffer for them. That is not my law—it is the law.” That was all she said. She stood away from him and smoothed her crumpled red uniform.

  “Don’t use that awful word ‘inevitably.’ That’s Kordan’s word.” That was all he said. He moved toward her.

  The guards separated them.

  Sygiek said to Kordan, quietly, “We must trust each other, Jerezy Kordan. I approve your straight speaking to Takeido. If you plan some positive action, of course I shall support it.”

  “That is a change of attitude for you, Millia Sygiek.” He looked at her sternly and pursed his lips. “You have given me little support—in the matter of handing over the gun, for instance.”

  “Then pride yourself on having taken care of that item.” She touched his arm. “You and I are proud people, and not entirely incompatible, as the computer properly decided. Our incompatibilities can be a matter for later discussion.”

  He looked her hard in the eyes. “We shall see whether what you say turns out to be a promise or a threat. Meanwhile, you must consider it your duty to support my leadership.”

  She sighed. “As you correctly state, we suppress our identities for the common good. We must do so now.”

  The guards separated them as well.

  Dulcifer said to Burek, “If I have the chance to make a sudden move, I rely on you to back me up, Che Burek.”

  “Everyone finds me very reliable,” said Burek. “That is how I have survived for so long. You saw how I swallowed my anger beneath Takeido’s insults. ‘An elephant takes no notice of a gnat.’”

  “I’m asking you to be a man, not a confounded elephant.”

  The guards also separated them.

  They were all led forward in a body.

  XI

  The priests had been preparing a platform. It stood in clear view of everyone, under the tall wooden scaffolding. With courteous gestures, some of the priests encouraged the captives to mount it. They did so. A low murmur of anticipation rose from the assembled cave-dwellers.

  Constanza stood next to Kordan and clutched his arm. Her face was pale. “We are to be either honored or executed,” she said.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Rubyna Constanza. These savages have recognized our qualities and hope for something from us. Stand by me.”

  Looking up, the six saw that the opening in the cavern roof was directly above them. The adjustable chair-couch stood nearby. The scaffolding was perhaps a crude imitation of some bygone device from which the capitalists had used to launch their rockets; so decided Sygiek. No stars could be seen through the roof opening tonight—but there were strange flashes of light which she could not understand. Probably a storm was brewing.

  The leader of the cave-dwellers began another oration, lifting his arms. His voice roared out, echoing through the space. The mass of people, urging their children before them, surged forward, until they stood on the steps of the temple. Their faces were eager.

  The platform began to move unsteadily. It lifted a centimeter or two from the ground. Fire-crackers began to burst underneath.

  “They understand that we are from another world,” said Kordan. “They are using us as a teaching example. Stand steady. We shall come to no harm. Stand firm!”

  “I’m not planning to be an example to any bunch of savages!” said Dulcifer.

  The platform lifted slowly, crackers still exploding underneath. It was hauled up by ropes attached to each corner. To one side, concealed from the audience, eight priests tugged lustily at a winch.

  When the platform was a meter or more in the air, it came to a halt. The people cried out. Dulcifer leaped upward and outward. He seized hold of the wooden scaffolding, swinging himself up. The leader of the cave-dwellers, who had been conducting the ascent as if it were music, gave a shout of anger. He jumped forward, pulling out a sword, brandishing it.

  He ran to the scaffolding, eyes and voice raised toward Dulcifer. The priests in consternation let go of the winch handles. The platform crashed back to the ground, sending its five passengers sprawling. Dulcifer drew a gun from his pocket and fired downward.

  Kordan pulled himself to his feet, face livid. “Come back, Dulcifer! You stole the gun from me when I was asleep last night, you deviant! I thought Sygiek had retrieved it. Don’t shoot!”

  “You’re useless without the system, Kordan, get back!”

  Dulcifer fired another shot and then began rapidly to climb.

  “Keep going, comrade!” Takeido shouted.

  The tribal leader staggered and fell back into Kordan’s arms. Sygiek ran forward to help Kordan. Between them they held the leader up. He staggered and thrashed his arms about. His face was distorted with pain. Blood gushed from between his lips and, with a great cry, he died.

  The whole company rose and began to advance up the temple steps toward the Utopians.

  Dulcifer took one last look at the milling scene below. He had reached the top of the scaffolding. It swayed dangerously back and forth. As he balanced on the upper spars, legs wide, his head rose within a shallow chimney of rock leading to the world above. The chimney was little more than one and a half meters wide and two in depth. Beyond it, dark cloud scudded in a dark sky.

  He tensed himself. He sprang. All the ferocious energy of his body was thrown into clinging to the rock. Stones and rubble fell away beneath his hands, but he managed with outstretched arms to wedge himself into the chimney. One foot found a hold in the side. Breath burst from his lungs, sweat seamed his face, he heaved himself up the chimney.

  After a timeless interval, his head appeared in open air. His shoulders came through. With a gasp of relief, he got his arms through and hauled himself out on sloping ground. He lay where he was for a minute, clutching his bleeding palms in his armpits. Then he rose, staggering slightly, and looked round.

  He was free.

  The hole from which he had emerged was protected by boulders. In the darkness, he could distinguish little of his surroundings. But the breeze that visited his cheek, the fresh flavor of the air, a distant sound of running water, the cool impression on his temples, even the feel of gravelly ground under his feet—all these things brought him an immediate rejoicing sense of the planet, as a man may, on an instant, recall a lost love. He raised his arms and clenched his fists to the skies and could scarcely check himself from sending up a great cheer. Grunting, he sucked the night air into his lungs.

  He brought his fists down and started to pick his way downhill.

  Once he was free of the encircling boulders, lights met his eye. He halted, confused. Two searchlights were weaving and interlocking ahead.

  “Hey, who’s there?” he called. “Friend or foe?”

  Seconds later, a cratobatic matboat was speeding through the air toward him. It stopped, hovering just above the ground, and two WUA officers with the World Unity symbol on their caps jumped down and slapped him on the back. Quickly they exchanged names and explanations. They helped Dulcifer climb aboard and settle into the exposed bucket seats. Two WUA soldiers and a man in the grim black uniform of the USRP were already aboard.

  “We thought you’d never get to us,” Dulcifer said. “Is the strike still on?”

  The USRP official spoke. “There was no strike, Utopianist Dulcifer—get that clear. Merely a little technical problem, now disposed of. For the rest, we have come fast and efficiently. You should not question that.”

  Dulcifer laughed. “You should try being captured by cannibals some time!”

  “We had a large area to search,” one of the WUA officers said. “Since you were taken underground, ou
r instruments could get no fix on you.” He passed a flask to Dulcifer, and clapped his shoulder. “We are glad to be in time, Vul Dulcifer.”

  “You may not be in time, as far as the rest are concerned. Move down to the river and I’ll try to show you the way in through the cliffs. Can we blow right in on this matboat?”

  “You bet. No trouble.”

  “Good. Let’s go. Every second counts.” He took a deep and satisfying swig of the fiery liquid in the flask.

  One of the soldiers was already transmitting information to two other scouting matboats nearby. They all converged on lower ground. On the far side of the river, a tracked land-vehicle waited. Following the course of the river, the matboat sped through the air, playing its searchlight on the cliff-face. The other matboats followed.

  The cliff-face was peppered with holes, each looking alike. There was no sign of life. The area appeared uninhabited.

  “They pull up the ladders at night,” said Dulcifer, and began to sweat. In anxiety, he pounded on his knees.

  He caught sight of a bridge, present as a slab across the dull glitter of water below.

  “That could be our bridge. Turn in here. Try a tunnel about ten meters up the cliff-face.”

  The flat craft made a smart left turn and headed straight toward the cliff. The pilot punched buttons. The mountain swallowed them. Hardly slowing, the matboat forged straight into a tunnel and then paused. Dulcifer sank back in alarm and covered his head.

  A wash of light, roughly circular, preceded them as they moved forward again. The way looked promising. There were tribal sentinels here, who ran in panic before them or passed themselves to the walls, crying in terror, hiding their eyes.

  “More animals!” laughed one of the officers. “We are on the right track.” He brought up a weapon and began to fire. A sentinel fell struggling and was lost behind in the darkness. The soldiers cheered.

  Dulcifer grabbed the officer’s arm. “Don’t shoot them down. They aren’t animals.”

  The tunnel curved, branched, twisted left. A barricade rushed toward them. A blaze of orange light from the front of their craft and the timbers disappeared in smoke. They swept through a cloud of angry ash and burst into the main cavern, lights blazing.

  Crowds of cave-dwellers, snatching up their children, ran in all directions. Screams rang out. The officers raised their guns again.

  “Don’t shoot!” cried Dulcifer.

  The matboat stopped a few centimeters above the ground. Officers, soldiers, Dulcifer, jumped out.

  In the temple stood Sygiek, Kordan, Constanza, Burek and Takeido, momentarily paralyzed in a tableau. The dead tribal leader lay at their feet. The leader’s retinue and various priests crouched nearby in attitude of worship. The rest of the congregation, now breaking away to run for their lives, had also been in kneeling positions.

  “You are all right? We are in time?” called Dulcifer, concernedly, hurrying forward to his friends. “My dear Millia Sygiek—you are safe!”

  Sygiek had drawn herself up against Kordan, who clasped her arm. She stood tensely, regarding Dulcifer with her grey eyes as he approached. Her face was expressionless. Dignitaries and priests gave way before him, but she did not stir.

  “You’re a mad dog, Utopianist Dulcifer,” said Kordan, putting out a hand. “You have broken the law with your use of firearms—that and all your other offenses will not go disregarded, be sure of that.”

  Dulcifer ignored him and looked intensely at Sygiek.

  “Millia, speak to me! Our ordeal is over.”

  “They fell down before us. They worshiped us. They accepted us as gods,” she said, in an amazed way. “How little they comprehend. And how little we comprehend about ourselves.”

  “Leave her alone, Dulcifer,” said Kordan. “When you shot their leader, what was to stop them tearing us apart in revenge? A lot you cared! By good fortune, we were so firmly embedded in a godlike rôle in their ritual that they accepted the killing as justified, as a sacrifice, and did us no harm. We could all have been dead by now.”

  Dulcifer tapped him derisively on the chest. “You’ve done little enough to save your skin, Kordan. Think yourself lucky that there’s someone in this universe fool enough to mistake you for a god.” He turned to Sygiek and embraced her, holding her against his clumsy body, stroking her hair.

  “They spared us,” she exclaimed, in the same dazed voice as before. “They must worship power and see us as all-powerful. Why else should they spare us?”

  “That’s a law of the universe—worshiping power,” said Dulcifer. “But I did worry for you, Millia Sygiek, just in case the laws of the universe happened to fail for once. Fortunately, there is also such a thing as mercy.”

  “Mercy …” Sygiek came out of her daze and clutched him fiercely. “Yes, even I have heard of mercy, Vul. I want to talk to you. Properly talk. When we get back home. Let’s dare to speak to each other.”

  He clasped her, out of words, as her eyes shone into his.

  As the dwellers of the caves stole away, two more matboats arrived in the cavern. Soldiers jumped out with guns at the ready, partly encircling the six tourists. The tourists were embracing and congratulating each other on surviving. Burek’s rumbling laugh sounded. Officers and soldiers were cheering.

  But Rubyna Constanza broke from Ian Takeido’s grasp with an angry exclamation and walked down the temple steps toward the official of the USRP. Takeido made to follow her, then stopped. Her name burst from his lips. “Rubyna Constanza!” Pale of face, she did not look back.

  The other tourists turned, caught by a sudden chill in the air. The soldiers fell silent.

  The USRP official, his boots twinkling in high polish, moved forward to meet Constanza. His seamed face was creased into a smile, his hands were outstretched.

  “Greetings! There will be much official relief to know that you are still alive and safe, Official Rubyna Constanza,” he said. “We have searched ceaselessly for you ever since rescuing the others of your wrecked bus party yesterday.”

  Constanza touched his hands. She straightened her back and spoke in a voice the others hardly recognized.

  “You took far too long. We have been much humiliated, Official Gunnar Gastovich, humiliated. Somebody must be held responsible.”

  “My apologies, Comrade Official. Deepest apologies. The strike obstructed our purposes—the guilty parties will be dealt with. Of that you can be sure. We will transport you back to Peace City at once.”

  Ignoring his remark, Constanza straightened her uniform and turned to confront the tourists.

  “Official Gunnar Gastovich, I order you to arrest these five tourists, Ian Takeido, Che Burek, Vul Dulcifer, Jerezy Kordan, and the woman Millia Sygiek. Take them into custody at once. I shall make a full report when I return to Peace City. I have uncovered a conspiracy against our beloved system.”

  Gastovich snapped his fingers and the soldiers began to move in.

  “She’s insane!” called Kordan. “Nobody is more loyal to the system than I. I am an Academician, an honored and respected Academician of the IPUS. You cannot arrest me. You shall be punished for this, Comrade Rubyna Constanza, when I get back to Earth. I demand to know the charges.”

  Takeido was weeping and calling her name.

  “Be quiet, Ian Takeido,” Constanza said severely. “You are showing manifestations of guilt, which are duly noted. The others will have to testify to your lengthy polemics against the state, which carry a maximum penalty. As for the rest of you—” She raised her finger and pointed it three times at Sygiek, Kordan and Dulcifer. “These three persons came to this planet for subversive purposes. They are members of a cell and shared possession of an illegal weapon, as will be testified.”

  Burek shook his fist. “Don’t leave me out of your roll of honor, you witch! I stand by my comrades. I hate the USRP as much as they do, and I will be punished as they are.”

  “Silence!” bawled Gastovich.

  “The charges against these c
riminals,” said Constanza. Her voice faltered and she started the sentence again. “The charges against these criminals include conspiracy, sedition, hostile logic, deformed thought-processes, misapplication of history, free discussion of Classified matters, treachery against the party, pessimism, collusion with traitors, and intent to conspire with degenerate capitalists who scheme to take over control of this planet. All five are enemies of the system—guard them closely!”

  She swayed as she spoke. Gastovich steadied her. He gestured angrily at the WUA officers, who were hesitating. Even the soldiers had paused, confronting the five accused where they stood in a tight group on the lowest step of the temple.

  “What are you waiting for? Arrest those scum!”

  The gun was in Dulcifer’s hands. He pushed Sygiek behind him. He held the gun at arm’s length, aiming it at the black-clad Reason Police official.

  “Stay where you are, everyone, or that piece of shit dies. Officers of the WUA, you are honorable men, I ask you—”

  One shot rang out. An officer from the third matboat had fired from the hip. Dulcifer back into the arms of Millia Sygiek, dropping his gun, clasping his shoulder. The soldiers rushed forward.

  Ignoring the shouts and cries, Gastovich bowed to Constanza. He gestured toward his craft. “The prisoners shall travel in one of the other boats. You will please accompany me. You have done good work and honors will be bestowed upon you. Now—the sooner we get back to civilization the better.”

  The five prisoners were goaded or carried into the other machines. Engines started. The craft turned in perfect formation. They sped from the cavern, through the tunnels, and into the night of Lysenka II.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.